#at least i'm going to have a hell of a lot to tell my french teacher when she asks if i've been watching anything in french

[narcjsistx]

𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 | kaiser x reader

— part twelve

plot: kaiser comforted you after a bad and slow breakup, but what will happen now considering what you two shared? is everything still unexpected or is there something you both simply have yet to realize?. fluff shit 'cause yeah!!

words: 3.2k (3203)

extra: it will probably become a multi part story, tell me if you're interested in a part thirteen!

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!. you can find the other parts of the story by searching in the section dedicated to bllk

If revenge took so much time, you weren't sure you wanted to take revenge against Gabriel and possibly Ursula. You had been spending all your time calculating your ex's steps in great detail for a month now, trying to find the tip of the iceberg that hid a world of mistakes underneath; but you couldn't find this tip, and you were starting to lose hope. You knew for a fact that Gabriel had a lot of secrets that the more hidden the worse they were, but you couldn't figure out where to start to unmask these secrets of his. You can't help but admit that he's a smart person, and he's definitely trying to use this potential to hide all his mistakes

After that night, Kaiser had decided to take his vacation early to enjoy some time with you, and in his humble opinion you yourself needed your boyfriend to work better and send Gabriel to hell. It was Kaiser's cute way of saying he wanted to be around you, you knew, but it made you laugh to imagine him as if he were at home planning some sort of murder with his soccer ball. Besides, since you had that hysterical crying fit, you had never found yourself without breakfast ready in the morning and someone to take you to and from work. Some paparazzi had intercepted Michael in the car, but so far you were not in any other current scandal. If they had started something you would have simply shut everyone, the media and the entire world, with yet another excuse

You pick up the phone, retrieving it after hours in the hands of the stylists, who have used your body for at least four consecutive hours with the clothes of the next fashion show. Today in the agency there are few models, you and a few others scattered throughout the entire building; Ursula should be in her office and there is no trace of Gabriel since this morning. It's a pretty boring day, the next show is still far away and many prefer to stay home and come in the afternoon, if they have to. You could have stayed in the arms of your beloved boyfriend in your soft and warm bed, but if you really want to find out something about Gabriel you have to be around all the time

And if that means wasting hours you could spend with Kaiser, you'll do it for now. You sighs, checking messages you've received

mihya ♡

— Return home at least for lunch is not an idea, right? — 12:08

— I take that as a no, schatz — 13:10

you — I was busy, sorry love — 13:20

— I had guessed it. But for dinner I want to order from that french food shop that disgusts you, so be ready — 13:21

you — Obviously I'll eat before I return home, disgusting boyfriend — 13:21

— You are hurting me badly. You might not find your favorite socks when you get home — 13:22

you — MICHEAL KAISER TOUCH THOSE SOCKS AND I SWEAR TO GO BACK TO ITALY, I SWEAR — 13:23

— You're always so sweet, schatz. Any news on your evil plan of destruction? — 13:23

you — None other than I'm thinking of giving up. That bastard seems to have everything hidden so perfectly, my god. I thought I had learned to read he at least a little after years, but apparently not. I'm thinking of just making up something far away that he might have done and making it the news of the century. It looks cool — 13:25

— You could say he cheated on you, manipulated you, maybe even slapped you once, and you wouldn't even be lying — 13:26

you — I don't know whether to be amused by the fact that you're absolutely right or to feel stupid for letting him act like that — 13:27

— The one that make you feel better, or the one that make you come home to me now — 13:27

you — Mihya :(( — 13:28

— Shall I pick you up then? — 13:29

As you are about to write 'yes' to Kaiser you notice someone passing by you, proceeding towards his destination with a certain hurry. You look up, noticing that that someone is Gabriel, who strangely did not bother you as he usually does. His face is a bit worried, and his pace is hurried as he begins to climb the steps that lead directly to Ursula's office. He has a folder in his hand, from witch a sheet of paper accidentally slips out, ending up on the steps

You put your phone in your pocket, making a mental note to answer your boyfriend. You walk a few meters away from Gabriel, who disappears from your life as soon as he passes the highest staircase. You run to the place where the paper fell, pick it up and sit for a moment on a nearby step, taking a long sigh. The last time you had to deal with secret papers you almost risked ending your friendship with Kaiser, but in the end the result is having him as a boyfriend. Will it bring you luck this time or not? You ask yourself this because, deep down, you know that this paper is important, maybe really important. You yake a little preparatory sigh as you begin to observe

The sheet is presented with simple data about the models and their paychecks. For some more information are written, such as their age and how long they have been working for the agency, but reading it you cannot find your name. You reread the paper several times, but you can't find yours. Why, even though you work here, you are not on the list of models?. You search for the name of some model you are more or less friends with, and at the bottom of the description of one you find a somewhat strange sentence

"Alleged friend of X. Seen with her more than a few times, probably they have an informal relationship. Seems to know about X's situation, possible collaborator. She might ask for a raise, a higher position at the next fashion show, or a transfer to another agency"

You reread the sentence several times, not fully understanding it. What should she be a collaborator for?. Also, she's a model who's been in the agency for a short time, and you're the only one she has any sort of relationship with. You'd like to avoid thinking about it, but you think X is a code name they gave you, for who knows what reason. You turn the sheet over, and in the white part you find a small erased note, still half legible

"She simply asked for a pay rise and more vacation days during the christmas period. She will provide information via messages during the day. X should have told her about deleted and maybe some details about her old deleted"

The girl in question then spoke, but on what topic? If it's really you X, you've never told this girl anything personal, except some old stories from when you were in other agencies, but those have nothing really important. Did she lie?. You get up from the step, walking towards Ursula's office with a cautious step, hoping not to find anyone on your way. Arriving in front of the door you look from inside the crack to see if there is anyone, but you are surprised to see absolutely no one and to find the door open, which is strange considering that Ursula is very reserved. You inadvertently find yourself opening the door, being careful not to let anyone nearby see you. You look in the office, but while you are looking on her desk you hear voices, two that you recognize well, talking; you think they are coming from the corridor, but when you check you don't find anyone. You go back into the office, and noticing the door of the personal bathroom slightly open you are convinced that the voices are coming from there. Cautiously you hide behind the wall that separates the bathroom from the office, trying to figure out why they are in the bathroom and why they are Gabriel and Ursula in question. Maybe you have seriously found the last thing you needed to unmask Gabriel, or at least you hope

"So?"

"You saw the papers I gave you, right? She has few relationships here, with the other models. The only one who agreed to talk said she'll call me tonight or send me messages, but I don't know why I can't find the paper where I wrote it... maybe it stayed at my house. I don't really care, I just need to know that I'll finally have some material in my hands"

"And will it be enough?"

"I suppose so, after all the media doesn't take much to ruin a person, and she's not in such a good situation already. Give me a week and you'll get what you want too"

"I've been waiting for two years, Gabriel. I'm fed up, if it doesn't work this time I'll do it my way, and you know my methods aren't exactly legal"

"Trust me, you'll get what you want and I'll get what I need. I just need to get those messages tonight and by tomorrow you can already say you're her"

"Now I really like the way you talk"

"Maybe you already love me but you don't want to admit it"

"Let's go step by step, I'll think about that later"

"Do as you wish, darling. Just think that from tomorrow Y/n will no longer be her but you will be her. The dream you have been living for will finally come true, and that slut will end up in some forgotten place. No longer the stylist, but now the model, my dear Ursula"

You are petrified, hearing their words. Even without knowing the situation, you already know that those two are doing everything they can to get you down once and for all, probably using something much more powerful than scandal.

"No longer the stylist, but now the model. And you, dear Gabriel, no longer the founder, but the general boss"

You pick up your phone, going to Kaiser chat to start a voice message. You need to record, you know you need to if you want to get out clean off this situation. You're ignoring the tremors that are plaguing you, because now you really need to concentrate, it's for your final win

"Anyway, I really don't believe it took two whole years to get to this point. On the one hand, I'm also sorry I treated her like that, it wasn't that bad... she's nice, more or less. But if treating her this way means I get where I want to go I don't care, or maybe I never really cared about her"

"Two years because, I don't know how, she withstood the scandal. I suspected she would swallow it completely, but evidently she still has some tricks up her sleeve. Then I can't imagine what's going on between her and her fucking best friend, the famous soccer player I mean, Kaiser Micheal. Will they fuck?"

"Maybe yes, maybe no. I honestly don't know if she hasn't let anyone else touch her after me yet"

Oh well Gabriel, you have pretty high hopes. You and Kaiser had fucked a few hours after you broke up, let's say you hadn't wasted any time

"You're just a junkie, Gabriel. You ruined that poor girl for your own interests!"

"Are you speaking, Ursula? Destroying someone who has never done anything to you is not exactly good behavior, dear. Being obsessed with the idea of Y/n just because she is actually a successful model, something you couldn't become, is a bit of bad behavior... you even went so far as to ask her beloved boyfriend for help"

"And you destroyed her to become the boss of the TraumLaufsteg, silly"

You've had enough, you get up and leave the office in a hurry, running as fast as you can towards your dressing room. Everything is so damn clear to you, finally something has formed with a logical thread, and damn, this time you even have the proof. You don't know how for two years you didn't notice anything, but finally everything is clearer to you; you won, really won. You arrive in your dressing room, closing the door behind you as you rush to the couch, once again taking up the chat with Kaiser where your most precious evidence rests. You sigh deeply, listening to the audio of less than 5 minutes, where Gabriel basically unmasks himself together with Ursula. You notice that Micheal has viewed the message, and because of the emotion you can't even write, so you opt for a voice message

"Mihya... we'll talk about it at home. But trust me, trust me, this time I've really won, this time I can make him look like a monster, this time I can seriously-" you say excitedly, but you turn when you hear footsteps in the hallway that you would recognize anywhere. The door to the room opens, and the smiling figure of Gabriel makes your blood run cold "Am I disturbing you?" he say "What the fuck are you doing here?" you say, getting up from the couch, and he shrugs "Nothing big. I just think you listened to too much" he says, as if he hadn't just dropped a bomb. He saw you, you don't know how, but he saw you. But this time it won't be a problem to be there, this time you decided that he won't hurt you "I heard, oh yes I heard, you piece of shit" you say taking a few steps forward "How good, my sweet Y/n. She still knows how to spy and listen" he say giving a small laugh, but grabbing your chin "So, what would you like to do? Who would believe the naive girl who everyone believes betrayed the genius of Italian fashion? Do you really think your opinion counts so much compared to mine?" he asks, mixing seriousness with a hint of sarcasm. You don't look down, but you suddenly have a little plan in mind, if everything is happening as you think "Gabriel... god, I hadn't thought of that. You're not entirely wrong" you say, faking a surprised and sorry tone, while you lower your gaze, as if you want to make him feel superior. He raises an eyebrow, smirking when he sees you so defeated, so naive and innocent "You see? You know it too"

Showing yourself weak might help the plan you just came up with. You hate to do it right now when you were showing yourself strong, but if the outcome is what you imagine, you have to do it

"And this time you want to send me down too. How did I not notice that..." you say mortified, and he seems to be convinced "You're so stupid, you don't act so strong when Kaiser's not around, right? Look, I guess you guys fuck, or maybe I don't even know, but I don't care. This time he's not around" he says smiling "And you are the umpteenth brainless and alone with a badly used potential. You could have remained silent in your place and lived at least another year without me having done anything to you, we would still be a couple and only then would I have spoken against you. And yet no, you acted like a bitch and unleashed a huge mess, coming here in Germany"

Gabriel continues, caressing your face "It was never my intention to hurt you, sweetie. The first year was beautiful between us, remember? We lived well in Milan and you paraded like a professional model, even though you had never been in the industry that much... good times. But then you found out about my first cheat, but you didn't leave, silly girl, because you loved me so much. And so, while you were growing in fame, I suddenly became 'Y/n's boyfriend' and no longer the fucking founder of the biggest Italian modeling agency of the moment, and it bothered me darling, it bothered me so fucking much, because I fucking created you. And so while I was looking for some German stylist to open a fashion agency in Germany I met Ursula, who coincidentally was so obsessed with you. She who has always walked the catwalk never got your fame, and she got fed up with creating clothes but not wearing them, and she wants to be you so much, amore mio. So while she became the boss of the TraumLaufsteg, keeping my identity a secret, I continued to cheat on you, and you always noticed everything, baby. The goal was to push you down as much as possible, I would become the official boss of the TraumLaufsteg, which I would later merge with my Italian agency, since Ursula would finally become a model and could give me the role. Because I depend on you, but you depend on me, slut. And if that meant making you the shittiest person in the world, painting you as a traitor, I would have done it. And I did, because I knew you would go down and I could finally take over as the boss of the TraumLaufsteg. And yet you got back up even after the scandal, and I don't know how"

Finally, everything is clearer to you. Gabriel's words come out like a raging river, and you don't know if you're still looking sad, because inside you're dying of happiness. You knew it was shit, you knew it damn well, and he admitted it. You loved a piece of shit that has now exposed itself, without him knowing it. You had been stupid, so damn stupid to let everything slide, but you finally had everything in your hands

"So you admit that you cheated on me...?" you ask sounding desperate, and he nods happily "More than you can imagine. You're gorgeous, I can't lie, but you're more type for a long term relationship, and in the fashion world relationships between people last as long as a fashion show. I've probably been with seven or eight different women... maybe a few more" he says thinking about it "And you painted me in front of the media as a monster" you say, returning to the main topic. He shrugs, sighing, "Give the media what they want, right? No one would ever imagine you would cheat on me, but remember, my opinion carries some weight. I've made up so much bullshit about you that I can't even remember anymore, but look where you are now... you're about to sink. And I love this thing"

You sigh, falling dramatically to the floor as you cover your face "I can’t believe this…" you say, but you’re hiding a laugh. It’s all working out, it’s all worked out, you’ve got it all. Gabriel chuckles softly, giving your hair a light caress before leaving the room "Sorry again, sweetie. Don’t make me feel too bad, good fall into hell"

He leaves, the room is finally empty and silent again. You stand up, moving towards the couch where the phone is still open, and the audio in Kaiser's chat is still recording, and Michael's online

You won. You fucking won

tag(s): @rroxii ; @kittenish0 ; @bungoustraydogsno1fan ; @sabrina-senpai ; @vannilaa16 ; @kaz-0e (if you want to be tagged tell me!)

[fructidors]

also one of these days i am going to make a post about the lighting in mlor and it will be very long and very well thought out but right now my brain cannot actually function like at all

[seriouslygoodomens]

Alright I'm back. Bare with me please.

We NEEEED to be talking about this.

When Aziraphale and Crowley have their first big on screen fight/break up(how ever you want to view it) we see Crowley start yelling about how he hates the "great plan" and Aziraphale goes on to say "may he be forgiven" this leads on to Crowley having a bit of a sad rant as below, even going as far as saying "i will never be forgiven, not ever. Remember, this is the Crowley that said "I didn't even mean to fall, I just hung around the wrong people"

Now what I want to add to this is how absolutely devastated Crowley sounds after this fight and how absolutely torn Aziraphale looks.

(Excuse my poor video, I couldn't find the scene online)

My rant doesn't stop there, no, no. I have more!

The ONE thing Crowley plays into is the "I'm a demon I'm not nice or worthy of forgiveness." And I think Aziraphale is aware of that.

1. He never gets mad when Crowley pulls the "I'm not nice" cranky pants act

2. He didn't even flinch when Crowley shoved him against the wall in the first seasons(but that could be for different reasons 😉)

3. He never, assumes Crowley is behind the wrong doing until Crowley says something dumb like "I got a commendation" regarding the French head cutting. He has learned over the years that what Crowley makes "evil" is usually not something truly bad like the whole bullets instead of paint but no one actually got hurt.

Aziraphale loves Crowley so much but he can't say it because they are always being watched. So you know what he uses instead? I FORGIVE YOU. We see it twice in the series. Aziraphale understand that Crowley thinks he will never be forgiven and that being a demon, he isn't worthy of anyone's forgiveness. So Aziraphale makes sure Crowley knows rhat he is worthy and that he cares so much about Crowley that even God herself won't forgive him, at least Aziraphale has. Aziraphale uses it as his I love you because in a way, it means so much more to them.

Here is the first "I forgive you"

Crowley is pouring his heart out trying to protect Aziraphale and get him to run away with him. He even tells Aziraphale how clever he is, granted he also called him stupid. This is another moment where Crowley is really trying to explain to Az how much he cares about him. Yes there is a LOT of miscommunication here because Aziraphale doesn't want to leave earth. He wants Crowley but he doesn't want to leave. He wants to fight for what is right. Crowley just wants to protect Azirphale and himself. He wants them to have peace together. The do argue and you can see Az is hurt again but instead of breaking things off like earlier, he says "I forgive you" which we can all agree doesn't just mean he forgives Crowley for being rude, he is forgiving so much

. The rude comments

. Lack of trust

. Showing he is worth forgiveness even with such a rushed apology.

Crowley could have left! By all means he should have but he could not abandon his Angel. There is nothing Crowley fears more than losing his Angel. He knew hell was coming for him, he knew they would destroy him for such a huge mistake but he stayed because his Angel is worth risking his life for. His Angel who forgives him time and time again for having to be a "demon" and put on the act. The Angel that has been by his side for thousands of years, just them against all else. Of course he stayed, and do we blame him?

Now let's move onto the second "I forgive you" scene and boy, there is a LOOOOOT to unpack there.

I'm not going into the last 15 because there is SOOO many posts that accurately portray the meaning behind BOTH of their song and dance. Especially Aziraphale's side. So I'm just going to cover that last scene in the shop together.

. Aziraphale knows they are being watched, just like season 1 all over again. The threat is much great this time, though, it's the actual Metatron

. When he first came into the shop, he KNEW what Crowley was going to say by the first words and Az even said "I know we ought be talking about..." he then looked outside and the scene continued. The whole time he keeps glancing outside!!

. When Crowley kisses him, you see Az lose himself in it. He leans in and holds him, ever so briefly before remembering they are being watched. The kiss is all they have ever wanted but it's the wrong time as they are being watched. Just watch him grab his back and straighten slightly

. The first place Az looks after the kiss is outside to the Metabastard. Crowley never once follows his eyes though, would it have been different if he did?

. That man is broken! He loves Crowley beyond words, beyond books and would risk everything for him, that's what he is doing to protect him right now in this scene. As stated in one of the flash backs in season one "I can't have you risking your life, not even for something dangerous" which means Crowleys life is more important to him than getting into trouble with the other angels.

. If your volume is up super high(we had a loud thunderstorm) you will hear "I..... Lo..... I forgive you" now you might think I'm hearing things but I'm not. If you slow the scene down and watch Aziraphale's mouth and tongue placement he IS saying the letter L not F. He couldn't possibly say I love you infront of metatron though, could you imagine what would happen? So he says I forgive you. It's the only way he could safely say "I Love You" without making the whole thing with Metadickhead worse.

. He grabs his lip and presses into it replicating the kiss! This doesn't add much to my rant, just thought it was super cute because it shows how much he enjoyed it and knows that he won't feel that again for a very long time, if ever.

[gavisuntiedboot]

We Can't Be Friends (but I'd like to just pretend)

Pedri x Reader

Part 1

Warnings: None

Word count: 8.7k

A/N: After a lot of consideration, I have decided to start posting my Pedri series. I think that I can get a lot of interaction with these, and I think it is a good way to feed my soul and get eyes on what is happening in Palestine. So please, if you enjoy this series, consider helping out Palestine. Even if it's just with a click (second link!)

(Also if there are any continuity errors pls pls pls lmk)

Operation Olive Branch is an org working to help raise money to evacuate people from Gaza. I have decided to highlight Anwar and his family, who need to raise $35,000 in order to survive. Please donate what you can:

I will continue to highlight this family on all my posts until they reach their goal inshAllah.

Synopsis: Moving to a new country can be a pain in the ass. So can starting a new job when your position is completely different to what you thought. But nothing is going to stop you from achieving your goal of being the next Law Roach. Not the language barrier, your aching feet on the wonky streets, and definitely not your annoying, full of himself client. Because everything is going to stay professional, right?

~~~

"Bryce, can you please pay attention? God, I hate Americans."

The slow and thick laughter flowed through the line, peppered with static and cutting off whenever a particularly loud vehicle rolled past.

"Self-hating much? You are also American."

"I'm Texan, sweetheart. We are basically our own breed. Now can you help me?" You were finally able to flag down a taxi, stepping in carefully to make sure you didn't flash the driver. The stark white of the flowy skirt contrasted heavily with your bright orange cowboy boots, worn to match the white "TEXAS" baby tee with orange lettering. Your bangles clinked happily against your wrist as the door closed, hair mused by the late September wind. It was a comfort-from-home turned fashion statement, a way to stay close to your roots but show everyone at the office you were the type of girl that people saved on their "cool y2k outfit inspo" Pinterest boards. At least, girls back home would.

"How the hell did you move to a foreign country without learning the language?"

"Because I was supposed to be in PARIS, remember? I didn't minor in French just for mierde and giggles."

"Yeah, yeah, and then Paris decided to self destruct. I've heard the story. Just put me on speaker already."

Through the phone, Bryce's Spanish flows fluently as she instructs the driver to deliver you at your new place of work. Style Di Fortuna was one of the best styling firms in Europe, if not the world. Located a mere two streets from the Passeig De Gracia, there was nowhere better for a young woman to start her career in the fashion world. Except you weren't supposed to be here.

The plan had been perfect. After 4 years working your fingers bloody at UT Austin, you finally turned the bright orange tassel and accepted your B.A. in fashion. You were able to say "couture" with the perfect amount of phlegm to be taken seriously by the French snobs you had interned with, the ones who were supposed to be your colleagues after you graduated. The dreams of smoky cafes, bike rides through the city, and the lights of Paris fashion week were often the only things that helped you push through your professor telling you that you sewed like a blind sloth.

But then the French did what they do best: went on strike. For months. And after the long periods of no productivity and the destruction of half the inventory, you got the concise email that you would need to find employment elsewhere. About a week before you moved to France. So in a blind panic, you applied to every job you could think of within Europe, desperate to not have your first year post grad be spent at the soup kitchen or bagging groceries. You finally heard back from one of your contacts, another alumni from your school who said they could get you a job in Spain, but it was a little far from the type of fashion you wanted to do.

A "yes please I'm begging" email and 24 hours later, you had a job with SDF. Hey, fashion is fashion, and if you have to start by styling TikTokers in sparkly mini dresses before you could get to the good stuff, so be it. There were dues to be paid after all. So you grabbed your already packed bags and changed your ticket from Paris to Barcelona.

"I can speak Spanish. I lived in Texas for 21 years. Just not... Spain Spanish." You said quietly, rummaging through your bag for the ID that had been mailed to you the week prior.

"Right, and my white ass took it in school and he seemed to understand me just fine. So you, Miss Texican, need to stop with the perpetual fear that people will think you're stupid. Be confident and just speak. The company is Italian, anyways. Most of them will probably speak English, and if not, they'll think you're exotic and sexy."

"Mhm I'm sure."

"You're going to do great, okay? Just be yourself. You had like ten billion friends at home. It's almost impossible not to like you. You got it girl - go hook 'em."

Laughter bubbled out of you at her cheesy pep talk, feeling lighter already. She was right - even if you had gotten this job on the fly, your portfolio was super impressive, and people had no trouble liking you. So what was there to be worried about. After bidding her goodbye and having the courage to thank the driver in Spanish, you stepped out of the cab to the front steps of the new building. It was much taller than the surrounding, standing out like a sore thumb amongst the lower buildings and pale stone. Making your way up to the 16th floor, you were quickly ushered past bolts of bright fabric, racks of shoes worth millions, and some very stressed (yet very stylish) other employees.

"So excited that you're going to be joining our team! It is going to be so helpful having some international input to make sure we are not pigeon-holing our clients into fashion that is not received well globally. You will be reporting directly to Katerina, and she will report to me. Your colleagues are mostly male given the nature of the division. But Tania, Silvia, and Maria should be a good support as you move into the role. We also have Juliana who is between here and the Milan office. So it isn't a complete boy's club."

Huh?

After years in fashion, one thing you definitely knew was that it often was not a "boy's club". Sure, all the suits and big investors were often old and withered men, but most of the creative side of the business had been run by almost fully female teams (and the exceedingly rare stylish man).

"I'm sorry, the nature of the team? What do you mean?" You asked, trying to keep smiling while running after her towards a more and more barren part of the office.

"Sorry, was it not included in your offer letter? You're working in our athletics division. We are horribly understaffed in that department, especially now that we have taken on all the Adidas athletes in Spain. My word there are a lot of them. Bellingham alone needs three team members for every event."

No no no no no. This cannot be happening. You had come in prepared to style a lot of things: prom dresses, lingerie, even the scraps of fabrics that were rented out by the local burlesque show. But sports???

Now don't get it twisted, this isn't some "I'm a girl and I don't know anything about sports!" kind of thing. On the contrary. You were at every football game rocking the longhorns, cheering on your friends as they crushed it at basketball, and even tried watching a formula 1 race (there was a three car crash and you fainted) - you were totally hip with sports. Although you were not a fan of stretch materials or athleisure, you were willing to bite the bullet as a first step. The issue was the hidden undertones of your job. It was the fact that you would be working with, from what you could surmise, a lot of male athletes.

Bryce was right - it did feel like you had ten billion friends back home. Everywhere you went, you spoke to strangers with ease, and people warmed quickly, conversation flowing and bonds forming. But that's the issue: everyone seemed to warm to you, and so it meant a lot of male attention. And despite your best efforts, you always made a "too flirty" comment to someone's crush or "inappropriately smiling" at someone's boyfriend. And so as fast as they liked you, suddenly you were public enemy #1, and the drama became all-consuming.

No one seemed to understand. There was constant advice to just brush it off, to ignore the people who brought pain to your life. But you couldn't help it, laying in bed, stomach in knots, questioning why no one could see that you were just trying to be kind to everyone around you. The cycle of worrying had created a very isolating experience.

"Tania! Where are the other girls? I want to introduce you to the newest member of the team."

A girl with blown out black hair turns around, double nose piercings taking a back seat to a piercing charcoal stare. She was in high waisted jeans and a leopard print button up, the first two unbuttoned to show off the black strap of her bra. Her neck was adorned with a simple gold cross necklace, and she flashed a cordial smile as she stuck out a hand.

"I love your shoes." You said sweetly as you exchanged a shake, eager to make your first friend at work (and maybe in all of Spain).

"Oh, thank you. Dolce and Gabanna - they're friends of the firm. Your shoes are..." She gave a glance to the cowboy boots you had on, "muy naranja" (very orange).

You crossed your legs, self confidence waning after she addressed you like you had traffic cones on your legs. You were introduced to Silvia (a tall girl with short blonde hair and vintage Adidas Sambas paired with boxer shorts) and Maria (dark blue hair slicked back to show off her Italian football jersey). All of them oozed the coolest essence, and you were excited to get to know them.

"Alright, girls, not too much chattering. Barca arrives in 15 minutes, and there is not a single jersey in sight. Lets go! Rápidamente!"

A gasp spread across the room, accompanied with a groan from Roberto in the back, and there was suddenly a mad dash. Stretch fabrics in a hundred different colors were flying across the room, and it seemed like no one could move fast enough.

"I'm sorry to ask but... what is a barca?"

Silvia's sambas squeaked loudly as she came to a halt, whipping her neck towards you. Her eyebrows knitted together, looking at you like you had just said Jesus was a goat.

"Who is Barca? You cannot be serious. Please don't say anything like that when they walk in the door. Just stand out of the way and do some googling. We will fill you in when the team leaves."

You stepped back towards the mannequins, trying not get trampled by the other employees. A quick search on Instagram gave you the basics. Soccer (or well, football now) team that was super famous. SDF was tagged in their post from their TV series premier, so you came to the conclusion that they were long time clients. You were so consumed with your search that you didn't notice the gaggle of young men enter the constricted space until you heard a chorus of voices chant "Bon Dia, Pedri!"

You glance up, trying to see the man that the girls were addressing, but he was covered by a crowd, which was comprised of Tania, Silvia, and girls from the other departments of the building (you could have sworn that red head worked at the café in the lobby).

"Bon dia, ladies."

The giggles that came as response were far too exaggerated for just politeness, and before you could roll your eyes, you heard the gag from beside you and turned to who was ultimately Maria.

"Don't mind the girls. They aren't usually like this, but their brain turns to mush around the magician."

"The magician?"

Almost as if planned, the swarm of girls parted in that moment, a pair of sickly sweet molasses eyes meeting yours, holding your gaze in something that felt warm and almost intimate. His stubbled cheeks spread into an infectious smile, and suddenly a gorgeous man in a hideous pair of jeans was giving you a subtle wave across the room.

"Pedri "The Magician" Gonzalez, current reigning golden boy at FC Barcelona. Who knew God could pack so much talent and trouble into such a small package? Anyways, the other girls in the office are obsessed with him. They all think they're going to be the special little snowflake to pull him away from the line of Instagram models waiting to jump in bed."

As you listened intently to Maria's rant about the sports star, the two of you couldn't keep your eyes away. As Tania and Silvia went back and forth, talking his brain into oatmeal, he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Who is the new girl?"

~

Pedri Gonzalez was many things: a generational talent, a laid back 20 year old, and (though less known) a shit-stirrer. These monthly team visits to SDF ranked very highly on his list of favorite activities. He was able to sit with his teammates as they watched some of the hottest girls in Europe fall over themselves just for a kind word or a prolonged glance. He just wished the boys would have seen the way they moved when he came in for personal sessions whenever there was a new Adidas campaign. Not even the king was served so wonderfully.

As the team bus parked outside the building, he lazily draped one arm over Gavi's shoulders, ripping his attention away from his phone screen.

"You know she does have a life outside of answering your texts, Gavi."

There was no attempt to hide or deny, just a continued scowl coupled with scrunched brows.

"She was really weird during the drive home the other day. After Martin was a little bitch on the field, she hasn't been the same. I think there's something wrong, but I don't want to push her away. I just want her to be happy."

"Ay, you'll have lots of time to make her happy after you confess your undying love in her passenger seat and kill her boyfriend." Pedri quipped back, taking a few careful steps off the bus and rushing into the building, the squeals of his name from adoring fans fading into the background.

"Okay, maybe not the best idea I've ever had, but now you do have work with Adidas and Springfield and all the other brands that want a piece of Pedri Potter." The nickname earned Gavi a light smack on the back of the head. "So in the end, I did you a favor."

The boys make their way upstairs, greeted at the elevator by Pedri's fan club.

"Bon dia, ladies."

"Bon dia, Pedri. We missed you."

Gavi tried to tone down the look of confusion that painted his features, watching these two girls trail behind his teammate in a way that was anything but professional. But there was a natural air to Pedri that had women swooning whenever he uttered a sentence, so Gavi supposed this situation would be no different than the one he had seen before in the club, at the beach, in the grocery store - basically anywhere Pedri went. He said a silent thank you to the powers that be that their types were vastly different.

The girls vying for his attention were promptly shooed away, with only the two who were actually part of their styling team remaining. Pedri scanned the room, making a mental note of who he would be looking up on the SDF Instagram once he was done for the day. He was a humble young man, but he wasn't self depreciating. He knew the number of women that wanted him was rising into 6-figure range, and he was not one to deprive himself of a pleasure that wasn't closely regulated by the staff over at Camp Nou. He loved entertaining the occasional tryst with an influencer or model or bottle service girl - whoever caught his eye for the evening. The world was his field, and boy was he ready to sow.

His newest playthings were his regular stylists. Since he was going to be spending a lot more time at the firm, he decided to at least enjoy himself a little bit. He dropped casual compliments, noticed the changes they made to their appearance, let them talk his ears off about how well he did in the previous match. Whatever they wanted he would provide. Why not? He was young and single. If they were to delude themselves into thinking he was going to settle down and take a wife at this stage of his career, then really they had no one but themselves to blame.

Tania and Silvia were nothing if not wholly entertaining. They always bounced around the office together, blonde and black hair making them look like a salt and pepper shaker set. Today, they dedicated themselves to dressing Pedri in the vintage Barca jerseys that were being photographed, leaving the rest of the squad to be dealt with by Maria, Roberto, and the bright spot in the corner of the office that caught Pedri's eye.

"Who is the new girl?"

He knew the question was going to cause the bile to rise in the throats of the two girls in front of him, who were already milliseconds away from killing each other if it meant he would take the survivor to dinner. But there was something about the flash of color that had caught his eye, hair falling in front of a pretty face that was glued to a screen and trying to stay out of the way.

"What new girl?" The response came from Tania, the more jealous of the pair by a mile. Pedri had often caught her stalking his account, his brother's account, and the account of every girl DeuxMoi "spotted" him with during the international breaks.

"Her. In the corner. She's new, right? That's someone I would remember seeing." He raised his head to get a better look at her, taking in the tight shirt and bright colors, watching her jewelry sway along as Maria (his least favorite in the office by far) called her over to help dress the rest of the team. The girls whipped around, taking in the same view that Pedri was.

"La naranja?!" Tania asked, disgust evident in her louder-than-appropriate tone. At the use of what was quickly becoming your office nickname, you looked towards the sound of the commotion, seeing Pedri staring intently at you once again. And while the depth of his gaze threatened to ignite a warmth somewhere within your chest, it was Tania's furious expression that had your heart racing in fear. You hadn't even been at work for an hour - what could you have possible done to have invoked such a murderous glare?

"I didn't think foreign girls were your type." Silvia said, much calmer but tone still icy.

"Maybe I just like the color orange." He replied smoothly, whipping off his shirt to slip into the one from 1980 that he would be modeling for the Barca site. The sight of bare skin was enough to make his playthings forget their rage, being replaced by lustful stares and lingering touches as they "adjusted" the fabric over his pecs about 20 times over.

"I think orange is a hideous color on girls." Tania couldn't help but mutter and she fixed his collar, putting in a couple pins so it wouldn't move as he walked to the photographer.

"I think the ugliest color on a girl is jealousy green." Pedri's eyes met hers in a silent warning. She was officially nothing more than one of his stylists. He was a busy man, and the last thing he needed was for his distractions to become a new stressor. He was notorious for being quick to cut girls off for the most superficial reasons, and Tania was not eager to be one of those deprived of his affections. She smiled sweetly, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Oh, of course. Especially when there is obviously nothing to be jealous of. Go welcome her on her first day - if she can even understand a thing you're saying. I don't think the American school system teaches Canarian." She left Pedri in that moment, calling sweetly to Ferran to come get dressed.

"Ay, Gavi, I knew you were short, but they can't even find pants that fit you now?"

The sudden voice behind you made you jump, causing a yelp from Gavi, who had been stabbed with a stray pin due to your scare. Your head whipped around, meeting that same smile that was brighter up close.

"Perdon, Naranja. Didn't mean to startle you."

Your eyebrows came together, a small frown on your features.

"I don't know what Tania told you, but that's not my name."

"I didn't think it was, but it's quite fitting, don't you think? A cute nickname for a cute girl."

The complement caught you off guard, and your mouth dropped open, reply unable to form in your mind. Was he seriously flirting with you? After half the office just threw themselves at his feet?

"Thank you, but I would really prefer if you called me-"

"Your accent is strange. Where are you from?" Pedri cuts you off, giving you a once over and taking in your figure, focusing intently on the writing across your chest.

"Texas. Can't you read?" You asked, growing more annoyed by the minute. Maria would be back any second to grab the boy who you were hemming, now identified as Gavi. You weren't eager to be seen as a slacker on day damn one.

"Houston?" He asked, accent preventing him from getting the "S" in the word quite right. "My brother used to live there for a bit."

"San Antonio, actually. But I went to school in Austin." As desperately as you wanted to make a good impression on your first day, something inside your chest wanted to make a good impression on Pedri, who was listening intently to the mini tour of Texas you were giving him.

"Is that close to Dallas? We are meant to play a game there in the summer. Maybe you can come along, show me around your city." He punctuated his sentence with a wink. You wanted to speak, tell him that Austin was actually several hours from Dallas, San Antonio even further. But your heartbeat was in your ears, and you could do nothing but nod along.

Pedri was not much better off. He had spoken to some of the most gorgeous women in Europe, maybe even the world in his mere 22 years on the planet, but something about the way you looked at him while speaking, eyes locked onto his, made his heart race in a way that was foreign but not unenjoyable.

"Hey! Hurry up - they need Gavi next. Or are you incapable of putting in a couple pins?" It was Silvia barking down at you, causing you to tear your gaze away from Pedri and back to Gavi's leg. Thankfully, the boy was typing away and didn't notice the break you had taken to chat with his teammate. "Pedri, stop distracting la naranja with your flirting and go get a pair of shoes from Maria."

You burned with embarrassment, the nickname turning from something affectionate to something sour, used to remind you of your outsider status as 'Cinderella' was reminded of her place by the coals.

"I was just being friendly." Pedri said, standing to follow her instructions.

"I think you have enough friends in the office." She bites back, shoving him lightly towards the wall of sneakers.

Your cheeks burn, embarrassment causing your hands to tremble as you continue hemming the trousers in front of you. Maria had gone out of her way to warn you that Pedri was off limits, and yet here you were again: persona non grata with your coworkers because some boy had taken an interest in you.

"You speak really good Spanish for someone from America." A quiet voice said from above you. Looking up, Gavi was gazing down at you, distracted by his phone every few seconds.

"I'm half Mexican, and most people in Texas speak Spanish anyways." You reply, trying to tone down the annoyance in your tone.

"Oh, I didn't know that. My friend- eh, physiotherapist also studied in America. She has this really cute accent when she says some of her words now." You watched his eyes glaze over in a way they probably shouldn't if he was just talking about his doctor.

"You don't have to make conversation with me, you know." You mutter back, scared that maybe this player was Maria's and you would sever the final connection you had left in the office inadvertently.

"Oh. I didn't mean to annoy you." The tone in his voice and his crestfallen expression made you feel like you had just kicked a puppy.

"Oh no! You're not. I just... It seems like I just pissed off the girls by talking to Pedri, and I don't want to make any other mistakes."

He laughed, eyes crinkling and head tilting back. "Pedri is a special case. When you flirt with everything that moves, someone is bound to be upset eventually."

The admission caused a pit to form in your stomach. Everything that moves? The romantic heat you felt earlier cooled into a slimy, sickening emotion. What kind of person toyed with people's feelings for fun? As you entertained the thought, you tapped Gavi on the leg, instructing him to hop off the stand and go get photographed. A shadow loomed over your form as you tidied pins from the floor of the workroom.

"So, I believe you were about to give me your address before we were so rudely interrupted." It was Pedri, returning with a grin, standing coolly with his hands in the pockets of his cargos. "Of if that's too personal, I'll settle for a phone number. Or an Instagram handle - I'm not picky."

"I can tell." You muttered back, unease still sitting in your chest. You avoided his gaze, chewing nervously on your bottom lip and directing your eyes to anything but Pedri.

"I'm sorry about Silvia. She can be... intense. And let me just go ahead and apologize for Tania as well, in advance. They're weirdly possessive over me for some reason." Pedri sounded sincere, eyes doing their best to catch yours and convey his message.

"Don't worry about it. I can see why you're so popular." You shuffled to collect stray pins off the floor. Pedri was not like any other guy you had ever been attracted to. Usually they were tall, lanky frat boy types, all blue eyes and khaki shorts. But the combination of beautiful brown eyes brushed by dark hair, chiseled jaw and plump lips, and strong arms that lifted a mannequin out of your way did weird things to your heart and your stomach.

"Can you now?" He was smirking. You could practically hear it in his voice, the amusement dripping from every syllable. He was obviously completely unbothered by your clear signs of distress.

"Yeah. Every girl I ever knew wanted to be the sugar baby of an athlete. Watch out or you'll get your bank account drained." Despite your best efforts to come across as cutting and sharp, he laughed at the statement. A full head thrown back and hands on his belly type of laugh.

"It's been a long time since I've spoken to a girl as funny as you." His eyes held yours, and the look was so captivating you simply couldn't avert your gaze. In that moment, it was also lost on you that you had, in fact, only made one joke. You responded with a half smile and heat radiating from you.

"Hey listen, a couple of the boys and I are going out tonight. You should come with us."

The invitation started to knock some sense back into you. Out? As in out out? Back home, going out usually meant getting shit-faced and riding a mechanical bull. It wasn't the best look to pull up to work the following morning looking like death and smelling like tequila. You were already on the way to holding the record for the worst first day in history.

"I don't know... I think Tania would put Nair in my shampoo if we were seen together when not contractually obligated."

You looked up shyly, and a part of you waited for him to insist, to feel somewhat special.

"Ah, I won't make you do anything you're uncomfortable with. Just DM me on Instagram if you change your mind. I'm not hard to find."

"Do you answer DMs from every girl that finds you?" You asked, rocking back and forth on your heels.

"No. But I'll be looking out for yours."

Another voice called out to Pedri, and he left you standing there slack-jawed. Who was this man? And what was so special about you to have piqued his interest? You asked these same questions of Bryce, who was now fully awake.

"Girl, the answer is obvious." She said through face time, words garbled by her teeth-brushing.

"Please don't say-"

"You're hot."

"That. Bryce, these girls in the office, they're stunners. 10s across the board. If he was going for looks, he wouldn't be going for me."

"I think you're over-thinking this whole thing. He just wants to talk to you for now," She paused to spit, "So talk! What's the worst that could happen?"

A shrill voice cried out 'Naranja!' and the trill of your new unwelcome work nickname was the signal that your lunch was over. You trudged back into the office, abandoning the warmth and sunshine for the cold front put up by Tania and Silvia. They bumped you every time they walked past, making comments about your clothing, your hair, the speed of your work, your taste level - everything. You stuck close to Maria, getting only two smug "I told you so's" before it was back to business. The boys left a disaster in their wake, with jerseys, trousers, socks, shoes, and all manners of accessories scattered about the workroom. Maria exchange stories of her childhood in Rome for your escapades in San Antonio and Austin, and the day passed with relative ease. Katerina click-clacks into the room an hour before your sweet release, huddling together everyone who worked with the team for a summary of what was accomplished.

"Great job team. I think Barca will be very happy with the photos, which will make me very happy. Now," Katerina handed out a series of files to everyone in the circle. "As some of you know, we have been fighting tooth and nail against Fordham Fashions for the new Adidas Rising Stars contract. Well, we have finally won! Here are the clients that we will be working with closely for individual Adidas campaigns, collaborations, and so on."

Opening the file, a familiar face grinned back from the first page.

"Everyone already knows Pedri, so we will move past him. Now, let us begin the style briefing for Bellingham..."

You stared for another moment at the bright grin on the page before turning it to take notes on everything Katerina was saying. The meeting wrapped 30 minutes later, with one final request from the boss.

"The new Predator boots have just come in from Adidas. We will be sending a pair to each of our athletes to allow them to adjust before we style and shoot in the coming weeks. And to avoid another, ehem, hair pulling incident, the new girl will be sending Pedri's. Sort the rest out among yourselves. See you tomorrow!"

The glares burned your skin before you even had the chance to process that the 'new girl' in question was you. Everyone scurried to the wall of blue shoe boxes as you looked over the brief again to find the man of the hour's shoe size. Pulling it out of the pile, you moved to a far corner of the workroom, but that did not seem to stop Tania from coming your way.

"So, you think Pedri likes you?"

The statement caught you off guard, hands slowing and your eyes widening at your coworker.

"Excuse me?"

"You think that now he's going to date you just because he laughed at one of your jokes? Because trust me, you're not his type."

You were prepared to rebut, tell her that she had completely misunderstood the situation, and you were just being nice to a client. But it died on your lips as the meaning of her words washed over you like an icy tidal wave, leaving you to pathetically whisper out,

"Why not?"

Her laugh trickled out lightly, delicate and beautiful and cutting all at once.

"Just look at you, Naranja. Anyways, this is a note from the agency that needs to be included in Pedri's box, so slip it in there, 'kay? See you tomorrow!"

Swallowing thickly, you didn't watch her walk away, staring at the table top to stop the flood of emotions that was clogging your throat. You knew you weren't ugly. Quite the opposite actually. It usually only took a coy glance and the bat of an eyelash for you to have people eating from the palm of your hand. But the self doubt started to eat away at you. What was wrong with the way you looked?

And then your eyes focused on the crisp white envelope on the table. The girly scrawl of Pedri was too... romantic to be a formal note. The green slime of jealousy seeped through every one of your veins. You took a quick look around the room, and finding no one, you carefully opened the envelope. Immediately a strong perfume assaulted your senses. The letter was a quick confession of love, and you couldn't help the increase in your heart rate. If your coworker was determined to hate you, then you should at least give her a reason.

Your childish antics came two fold. First, you tiptoed over to the cabinet with the stationary, grabbing a blank envelope and some corrector fluid. You carefully removed Tania's name from the bottom of the letter, writing in a little "S" with a heart beside it. You refolded the letter and placed it into the new perfume-less envelope. The letter found its home in the shoe box, and on your way out of the building, you dropped it off at the mail room. As you waited for your cab home, you typed five familiar letters into the Instagram search bar, and sent a message asking,

"Am I still invited out tonight?"

~

Pedri could not contain the Cheshire cat grin that lit up his face when he saw the DM from you. Scrolling quickly through your Instagram, he zoomed in on your pictures from the summer, swimsuits the same bright orange that had hugged your chest earlier that day. He responded quickly, telling you that you would be the highlight of the entire outing, and as he predicted, your phone number quickly followed.

"See, Gavi? I told you." He turned the screen to his teammate, who could not possibly be less interested. Being met with silence, he quickly snatched Gavi's phone from his hands, eliciting a protest.

"Gavi, this is an intervention. You need to stop this sad puppy behavior. After the sixth unanswered text, it's time to accept that she's not going to respond."

Pedri almost regretted it as soon as he said it, the sunken look painting Gavi's features being too much to bear. It was like taking a baby's favorite toy away.

"I just mean that she's probably busy, hermano. She'll respond when she can. Now, back to me."

Gavi rolled his eyes and leaned back against Pedri's couch. He displayed his most exasperated expression.

"Please, Pedri. Tell me again how you got a girl to swoon for you in a matter of minutes. It's always my favorite story."

Gavi barely missed the pillow chucked at his head, but pressed on anyways.

"Come on, Pedri. It's the same story every week. Find a cute girl, flirt, invite her out, sleep with her, and then block her on all your socials."

"Okay but this one is different. She's my first American."

Gavi gave him a look that told Pedri that maybe the joke should have been reserved for Ferran. Despite all the wisdom Pedri had imparted, Gavi hadn't listened. Instead of taking advantage of the swarm of women ready to show him heaven, he had gone and fallen in love with one of his coworkers. Sheesh. What a stupid idea. But he had never seen Gavi, or anyone really, care so much about a person. So he was being a good friend, just pretending that this love story wouldn't go down in flames (badum-tsss).

Pedri was not willing to be a hopeless lover boy. He killed himself on the pitch, and there was no way he wasn't going to enjoy life after the whistle blew.

"I just don't think it's an idea to start involving girls you're going to have to see again."

The statement cut straight through Pedri's daydream of what you would wear to the club that evening. Gavi may have been right. When messing with Instagram models, it was easy to avoid previous flings. A block online, a slip of their photo to Camp Nou security, and worst case scenario, when they came up to him at an event, he just put on his best confused face and asked, "Do I know you?"

But this was new territory. He had toyed around with Tania and Silvia for months now, but it never left the office. Inviting a girl who he would have to see again and again for work out was risky. But the risk-assessing brain cells were on vacation. All that was left were the party neurons, the ones that craved dopamine and finding out what your skin would feel like against his palms. So he pushed all of Gavi's valid objections into a dark corner of his brain. He opted instead to ask,

"So, are you coming out tonight as well?"

Gavi lifted his hoodie up to cover his face, using all his self control to not grab his phone from its place on the coffee table.

"I don't think so. I'm not in the mood to see Ferran or... anyone really. Just want to sit home and watch my show."

"Suit yourself then. I'll let you know how the night ends."

"I'm begging you not to."

~

You smoothed your hands over your dress one final time. You were pacing around your living room, eagerly waiting for Pedri to pick you up. Despite your best efforts to assure him that you could Uber yourself to the club, he refused, and you couldn't help the giddy feeling at the gentlemanly antics.

Staring at yourself in the mirror once again, you thought of the dates you had been on in your senior year of college. From darties on frat lawns to drive-thrus to fine dining, many guys had tried to win your favor. It wasn't that all of them sucked (even if the majority did). It was just that the guys back home in America were... boring. All of them were pretty self centered and shallow, nice to look at but nothing deeper. While a pretty boy was nice at 19, it was time to grow up and look for something more.

The buzzing of your phone knocked you out of the trance you were in. "Pedri from work" illuminated the screen as you rushed to answer.

"I was going to come in and knock on your door, but I can't get into your building."

You laughed lightly in response, apologizing about the door code while grabbing a jacket and heading downstairs. A low whistle greeted you, dark eyes tracing your figure with a look that you tried not to interpret for your own sanity. A shy smile played across your features as you allowed Pedri to open your car door, sweet talk you throughout the drive, and escort you in to what was more of a lounge than a club. Live musicians played just loud enough for ambiance, but not enough to completely drown out everyone chattering amongst themselves. The two of you walked up to a table of Greek Gods, which you assumed were his teammates.

Pedri introduced you to the group, making sure that his body was physically situated between you and Ferran. He was a good guy somewhere deep, deep down, buried under the anguish of his last girlfriend, who left him upon finding out about the pay reduction that came with moving from Manchester City to FCB. Pedri tried to stop him from taking out his rage on a coworker (and Gavi's crush), but he was hard headed and couldn't be swayed. Eventually he would calm down, and they could go back to being young and single and not bitter. Pedri's phone glowed with a notification from the boy on his mind.

[Gaviiii]: dude i foujd her outside my house just sitting in her car n cryng so im gonna take care of that

[Gaviiii]: dont tect me or call me im not gonna answer

The typos were normal, as it was hard for Gavi to avert his eyes for even one second when his most precious was in sight. Pedri shook off the text and turned his attention back to you, arm coming to rest around your waist in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.

You were not comforted. On the contrary, you were on the verge of throwing up. You were one of only two girls in a circle of incredibly attractive men, the other being someone's wife. You couldn't remember the names of any of them, except for Ferran, who you had been specifically warned about on the drive over. The devil really is a charmer. His short cropped hair showed the angels of his face beautifully, long lashes fanning against his cheeks. A few tattoos peaked out from under rolled up sleeved, and you had to remember that you were with his friend on a... what was this exactly? Pedri had never said anything more than that he wanted to be friends. But he asked you to go out with him, picked you up, gave you the pre-date compliments, and now was shielding you from other men. Were you on a date?

You tried your best to participate in small talk, listening to them go back and forth about football and training and life in general. The various accent were not kind to your brain that was barely used to the Canarian lilt to Pedri's speech.

"Are you okay?"

The whisper came softly in your ear, hot breath against you skin causing an eruption of little bumps. Pedri's arm had not left your waist, but now he was rubbing delicate circles into your skin.

"I'm fine. Just... a little overwhelmed? I feel sort of out of place."

"Don't worry, linda. No one can take their eyes off you."

The affirmation only increased your heart rate once again, the thump against your chest beating in rhythm with the base from the speakers. You were acutely aware of the warmth of his palm against your skin, radiating through the fabric of your dress. You loosened up as the evening progressed, participating in the conversation more confidently and laughing more freely. Slowly, the boys excused themselves from the gathering one by one, and soon it was only you and Pedri in the low light, talking about the most beautiful scenery you have ever seen.

He was lost in describing his home island, the clear waters and lush foliage that he called home. You leaned forward, enraptured by the passion that he spoke with about the places and people he loved. Slowly, you found yourself getting closer and closer, until there was only a few inches of space between you. The gold flecks interspersed in dark brown became clearer, and you struggled to breathe as you watched Pedri's gaze drift to your lips.

"I am getting the impression you want me to kiss you. Please correct me if that's not the case." Pedri breathed out slowly, more strained than you had previously thought. You don't know what you were thinking. Maybe you weren't thinking. You just acted on what felt right. Closing the distance, you joined Pedri's lips to yours, arms around his neck as you kissed with a hunger borderline inappropriate for the public.

You weren't usually this person. It was usually a couple dates before you would allow for a goodnight kiss, let alone the almost make-out you were currently engaged in. You pulled away from Pedri, the heavy breathing a commonality between the two of you. Maybe it was the being in Spain. Maybe it was that he was hot and young and famous. Maybe it was that of all the girls throwing themselves at him, including your coworkers, he picked you after an hour of conversation. Something told you to take a chance on what could be your love at first sight moment. So when Pedri leaned close and asked,

"Do you want to go back to your place?"

There was no answer but yes.

~

The following morning was filled with bliss. Pedri had woken up just as the first rays of sunlight were painting the stone. He kissed you on the cheek, whispering something akin to "see you around" before he left to training. You floated through your morning, making a coffee in a daze and dressing with a permanent smile. Bryce was still fast asleep, so you left her about 30 minutes worth of voice messages before you had the guts to step out and hail your own cab to work.

You walked into the office still riding the high from the night before. Your skin was ablaze, and every time you thought of the "activities", heat spread through you rapidly. Luckily the November chill kept you from sweating through your bones. Your bliss lasted for most of the morning, as you worked with Maria and a couple of people you had never met to create a mood board for an upcoming photoshoot. As you flipped through paint swatches, a piercing scream split the air, causing you to drop to the ground and cover your head.

"Why are you on the floor, Naranja?"

One of the boys looked at you with raised eyebrows, and a part of your brain registered that your new work nickname had trickled into other departments.

"Oh, sorry. I went to high school in America. Screams like that meant someone was getting jumped. Or shot."

Another scream rippled through the hallway as Maria helped you up.

"That was Silvia. Given recent history, your prediction about her being attacked might be correct."

The both of you scurried down the hall, the clicks of the other department workers followed behind you, eager for the newest and juiciest chisme. The sight before you made you stop dead in your tracks. Roberto was holding Tania by the waist, apparently the only thing that was keeping her away from Silvia, who was on the other side of the room crying and grabbing her head. There was a trail of silver thread between the two hysterical women. No, not thread - hair.

"She cut my hair! She came up behind me and cut my hair!"

"She's a traitor and, more importantly, a whore! I should've slit her throat."

Katerina had finished ushering everyone who didn't work there out of the room, and now she was standing in the middle of the room ready to mediate.

"You two have 5 minutes to explain what the hell happened and why I shouldn't fire you."

Tania had calmed, no longer straining against an iron grip and gaze filled with slightly less murderous intent. She released the clump of hair that she had in her hand onto the floor, revealing the absolute carnage that had taken place. Safe to say Silvia was going to be rocking a pixie cut for the next few weeks. Both of the girls remained silent. The prisoner's dilemma in real time. Katerina clicked her tongue after the moment of silence and simply said, "Roberto."

You could swear you saw a smile on his face briefly before he cleared his throat and began.

"Tania gave the new girl a note with her phone number in it to send to Pedri. Pedri texts the phone number, but instead of addressing it correctly, he says-"

"HEY SILVIA. THIS MORNING HE TEXTS MY NUMBER WITH HER NAME." Tania's outburst had everyone stand up, fearing that she was going to lunge. She remained in place, but no one sat back down.

"So you decided to attack her because he can't tell you two apart?"

"She must have done something to my note. She-"

"No." Katerina interrupted. "I have hear enough. Both of you are no longer working on any project Pedro Gonzalez is involved in."

Protests came from both of the girls, suddenly sullen and docile. They began to plead to be punished with anything else, but not exile from their favorite footballer. As they whimpered to your boss, who reminded them they were lucky to still be employed, it dawned on you. This morning. He texted who he thought was Silvia this morning. In response to a flirty message. After he left your bed. Maybe before he had even left the apartment.

There it was again. The nausea. The urge to projectile vomit. All because of Pedro Gonzalez. Fuck a nickname. He was a rich fuckboy that had played you like a fiddle. You held the tears back as you went back to fabric swatches, taking a moment to block him on Instagram.

"So, how does it feel to be Pedri's personal stylist now?" Katerina startled you, and the shock caused a delay in processing what she had just said.

"His what?"

"Well, now that those two are not allowed to be within 50 meters of him, it's only you and Maria working the Adidas contract. Especially now that Roberto is part of the Olympics team. So you get Pedri, and she gets Bellingham. Perfect, no?"

You nodded, swallowing hard to push the bile back down. This very unfortunate one night stand maybe have been the worst idea you have ever had. You walked through the rest of the day with disgust and rage flowing through you. You decided to brave the cold of the November afternoon and walk home, stopping by a bakery to get something with chocolate to keep the tidal wave of intense depression at bay.

How could this be happening? You weren't this girl. You weren't someone who let yourself be gullible and played. Hell, you had gone the last four years with all of Texas and parts of Mexico vying for your affection. But this little Spanish boy took advantage of the connection you felt, and he had barely left your bed before starting to text your coworker. Your phone buzzed with several messages in rapid succession.

[Pedro Gonzalez]: My agent just told me you were my own personal stylist

[Pedro Gonzalez]: that's good to hear.

[Pedro Gonzalez]: At least I'll have a friend at all these long and boring photoshoots

No mention of the night before. No "I had a good time". No question about your wellbeing. Nothing except his own self interest. How the situation would be good for him. Again. You felt awful as you pushed a teenage boy out of the way, barely making it into the bathroom before throwing your guts up. What the hell. How did you manage to fuck up so poorly so quickly? It was day damn one. And now you were throwing up in a bakery bathroom in Spain because of a man that's 5'9". You sat at a table, cake and coffee cooling in front of you. You didn't trust your legs or your stomach just yet, so you decided to type out a response instead.

Pedri was in overall low spirits. His injury had had another flare up, causing him to limp to the locker room. The email from his agent brightened his day, as he saw your name in the email. He shot a quick text your way, excited at the prospect of seeing you again, only to sour at the response.

[Naranja]: dont speak to me pedro

[Naranja]: we are not friends

[Naranja]: and we never will be

[You can no longer send messages to this user]

~~~

A/N: Here it is! The first part of the new series! Just some preemptive answers: I don't know what my posting schedule will look like and idk how many parts it's going to be. I hope you enjoy this first part. It might be a little rushed because I just wanted to set up the main story. Please let me know your thoughts in comments and asks! I'll try to reply to as many as I can. I love you all <3

Palestine: I will try to donate $1 for every comment that has a watermelon or an olive in it. I will keep y'all updated with how it goes.

Here are some more links to please please please look at while you're here.

Care for Gaza: an org that has been getting help and aid to people on the ground -> https://www.gofundme.com/f/careforgaza

Daily click that donates money to help Palestinians -> https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/

[trainsinanime]

The following post is intended to be seen as levity and joking, not salt.

Chloé this, Chloé that, "Redemption started?", "Redemption interrupted?", "Redemption cancelled?". The discussion is getting old. What I haven't seen enough yet is how the show did Sabrina really dirty, by giving her the worst thing of all: A conscience.

The early parts of the show toyed a lot with how exactly Chloé and her relation to Sabrina works, which was clearly not well established when the first episode came out (hell, they didn't even seem to know who Max and Kim were yet, they only had their character models). Sabrina's deal is easy enough in the abstract, but difficult to pin down in the early episodes: Is she more meek or mean? More of a victim or more of a bully? Does she share Chloé's values whole-heartedly, opportunistically, or is she pressured into it? Does she have scruples or is she just a coward? Those are all elements in her character to some extent, but the exact mixture did not really solidify until she got an episode to shine and be away from Chloé, in Evilstrator.

That episode did the fairly obvious plot of Marinette going, "you can stand up to your bully instead of doing their homework for them!", and then showed us how Sabrina reacted. And the reaction was: Sabrina is every bit as unhinged as Chloé, just in completely different ways, and their dysfunctional relationship might just be the only one in which either of them can function.

This choice is not fully unproblematic, but ultimately okay in my book. I think die-hard Sabrina stans might call this character assassination, but I don't think there are any die-hard Sabrina stans. I feel like I should become one just to even out the numbers. Anyway, the choice clearly telegraphs that the show is not interested in long-running redemption arcs, which, you know, fair enough, it is designed for six-year-old French kids after all. (Yes, season 2 and 3 looked rather different here, but that's later)

The show did not exactly use Sabrina consistently after that, but for a while, they leaned into it. Early Sabrina was often mean, materialistic, codependent (I don't actually know what that word means I'm just guessing) and toxic in her own way. She broke into Marinette's room, helped steal Marinette's designs, lie and cheat for Chloé.

And then that was basically it. The show mostly forgot about her. She was an appendage to Chloé, usually frightened and a bit incompetent, but not much more. When Chloé showed signs of a bit of a hint of a redemption arc, Sabrina was not part of it. When Chloé gained a sister for, I actually don't know (I still maintain that "replacement bee" makes no sense for anything but selling merch), and there were hints that this might be relevant to her story, Sabrina wasn't there.

What did happen in the moments we saw Sabrina was that Sabrina got more meek, more scared of Chloé, and less mean. There were no more hints of her playing superheroes with Chloé and being at least somewhat of a friend, and also none of the meanness of Miraculer, one of the worst Akuma names in the show. Instead she was now in a closet doing Chloé's homework.

As she becomes less effective, she becomes more sympathetic, with some moments e.g. in the New York special, until she finally becomes Miss Hound. At this point we have basically the exact same thing that Evilstrator rejected: Sabrina is really just an oppressed underling who is too scared to tell Chloé to stop, instead of someone with at least some of her own ideas that happen to overlap with Chloé's in all the worst ways.

This all comes to a head in confrontation, when Sabrina's defining character trait is suddenly, out of nowhere, that as a police officer's daughter, she hates lying and stealing and hates that Chloé makes her do it. Since when!? Sabrina, weren't you around for Darkblade!?

Sabrina breaks off her friendship with Chloé and is now officially a good girl. And that sucks.

Old Sabrina had a certain edge to her. She made sense as an Akuma threat on her own, and even as a threat to Chloé as Vanisher and Miraculer. Now, she's only an Akuma effectively when Chloé tells her to, and she stopped listening to Chloé anyway. Her personality is now strictly: A good girl. Not like Chloé.

Ironically, in her emancipation, she has lost almost everything that made her unique, and become entirely defined by Chloé in every way. She's her own person, but with barely any personality traits except "not like Chloé anymore". No hobbies, no meaningful relationships with anyone, she's just there, and nice now I guess.

There are so much more interesting things you could have done with a mean Sabrina, which we know for sure because the show already did some.

But that's really part of a wider issue: When people talk about Chloé, they mostly forget Sabrina, and Sabrina isn't interesting enough to stand on her own. The ideas of a Chloé redemption throughout season 2, 3 and in some form 4 focused on Chloé's relationship with Ladybug, Marinette, a bit Adrien, Audrey, and a bit Zoé. Chloé's super-duper villain arc in season 5 focused on her relationship with Lila. Sabrina, who has been here from day one, who has the longest and most complex relationship with Chloé out of any character, is not a part of it at all.

I think that sucks. I think Sabrina has more potential, but in particular I think Chloé is more interesting if we include Sabrina in the discussion as well. Their relationship is something deeply weird and unique, and any Chloé redemption that brushes it off leaves a lot of very tasty crumbs on the table. It sucks that it ended like that. Yes, Sabrina is now redeemed, but as a result of that, she's boring, and isn't that much worse than being evil?

In short: We should all write more Chloé/Sabrina fanfics.

[letsatomicbanana]

Have any headcanons about my boy Ink sans??

Oh boy, i sure do!

It's yapping time!!! but it's bellow the 'read more'

(spoilers: It's long as hell)

-First of all, Ink can not stand normal texturized clothing and textures (like cotton, fur, silk etc...) which is the reason to why their clothes are always created by him and is used a more paint-like 'esque' to it. (which is canon).

- Case in point, he suffers from 'unable to have normal fashion tastes' disease. He's the type of motherfucker to wear baggy pants under a dress, sandles with socks on, a crop top over a long sleeved shirt etc... They does not care nor follows society's fashion sense/brands, he only gives a damn if the clothes are comfortable or not lmao.

- Genderqueer, no explanation for that one (c'mon, just look at them) also AroAce but that's already canon.

- He definetly has a whole collection of autographs of random sanses that he managed to get. (The obvious one is fell sans but he prob forgot to who the other's belongs to).

- Besides from being able to speak french, they can also speak fluent mandarin and japanese!

- Has a whole collection of random objects he found while travelling AU's. It's not anything particulary useful or collectible (like toys etc..) more so 'things he found interesting' (like that one chesse from the ruins)

- Since he has a canon hyperfixation on Underfell, i like to image that he defends the AU with his whole tiny body, empty mind and non-existent soul (he can't STAND uf slander, it makes his blood boil lmao). Also, they treats fell sans like you would treat your favourite fictional babygirl male character as.

- Definetly engaged in the consumption of illicit drugs at some point in his life, you cannot tell me that this curious asshole never had any interest in drugs, even if it's just recreational consumption. Very open to any options, but they has a thing for marijuana, alcohol, and nicotine (it makes him ADHD go bonkers).

- Now that i've mentioned it. He has ADHD-C (combined type), probably got diagnosed because he saw a random 'Does your child have ADHD' pamphlets hanging around in the wall of some random AU they visited, which made him to be deeply curious (he thought they didn't had it) and eventually diagnosed with it. Note! He's currently unmedicated (i think he would have a problematic history with medications, if i'm going to be honest). (him having adhd is kindaaaa canon??? semi-canon at least)

- Also has undiagnosed Autism and ASPD (sociopathy) in which he has no idea that he has lmao (i made a whole post about this too). Note but i'm killing anyone who says that Ink is evil due to being 'sociopatic'.

- Doesn't engaje in social gatherings of any kind unless extremly necessary, he's energetic but an introvert at heart (this is canon btw).

- Has a better conection to inanimate objects than people, oh! and he's also Objectum!

- They're an ISTP! Which stands for 'Introvert', 'Observant', 'Thinking' and 'Prospective'.

- A lot of times deeply wonders to his apparent lack of family and AU, he won't admit but he's feels a sense of envy for other sanses that have brothers. They also often wanders through the vast multiverse looking for his original family/AU, but he can never find it :(

- Extremly sensitivite to any topics of discussion/conversation that relates to his soullessness, he also cannot stand being called 'emotionless' or a 'tragedy' because of his condition. Has a tendency in de'humanizing' himself over his lack of soul.

- Since he has a very hard time understanding social interaction, they often uses their interest in art as a way to form attachments with people, like painting them outfits or portraits (insert the 'Im bad at people, but i am good at tech' entrapta quote). Art is his special interest!

- He's a very dedicated brony and their favourite pony is Derpy Hooves/ Ditzy Doo!! She's literally him, for real! If he was part of the fandom at it's peak popularity in 2012-2014, they would prob be those famous fandom artist/musicians!

- Reast in piece Ink sans you would've loved Dungeons and Dragons. (/ref)

- Besides from their obvious interest in drawing/painting, he also has a deep interest in music! He canonically can play the flute but he also enjoys playing the trumpet, the piccolo and the clarinet!

- They're generally extremly under-responsive or otherwise sensory seeking to any kind of sensory stimuli. He's also a very oral artistic and often chew/bites on stuff for stimulation. Can often fall into Nonsuicidal self-injury style of stimming such as picking or pulling,when overwhelmed/underwhelmed.

- Another headcanon that he has PICA, where he often eats/craves for things that are not food, like crayons (canon).

[talesfrommedinastation]

My Redneck Neighbor Doug has watched The Bad Batch Season 3 opener:

LEEEEET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!

This is more pithy than normal: Doug's been busy with work, as have I. But I'm determined to hear his thoughts on The Daddy Warcrimes 'n Company so here we go!

These were all via text messages, btw.

CW: Doug Doug's as you know Doug will do. Away!

---------------------------------------------------

Episode 1: 'Little Orphan Blondie's Shit Internship at The Museum of Science and Industry'

Poor Little Orphan Blondie, stuck in The Museum of Science and Industry in a shit summer job because they got bills to pay. Except they got rid of the dinosaurs and walk in heart and filled it with gross shit.

Hey look, they still got the coal mine exhibit! Man I miss Chicago.

(Doug, that museum has never had dinosaurs. “What, since when?”)

MUTANT JIMMERS EVERYWHERE! Aw, Little Orphan Blondie gave one her chicken nuggets! And it’s shy, aw, I hope it’s okay.

Poor Mutant Jimmers…she named her?! Swear to Christ Almighty if that dog gets Old Yeller’d I’ll just lose it. 

That freaky alien thing that ran the mall on the ocean looks sad, I bet she wishes she fell into the water and got eaten by a shark or something. I wish you did too, lady. 

The Sons of Robocop really are everywhere, they must be a cult or something. They look cool, I’d join, why not. Think they get 401ks?

Oh man, Daddy Warcrimes is down bad. Poor Daddy Warcrimes. Man, all my clone boys are stooped and sad…this ain’t good. 

At least Little Orphan Blondie can craft! Man, she should start selling those at the Museum of Science and Industry’s gift shop. Maybe Tarkin can bring one back for the grandchildren he’s not allowed to talk to since the restraining order was put in.

Oh, there’s Stepsister Beth, she seems on edge. Must’ve gotten divorced recently, don’t blame her ex, I bet she screamed at him for leaving cabinets open who knows. How do her eyeballs not hurt after wearing those dumb glasses all day?

Episode 2: 'Night Elves and Neverland Ranch'

The night elves from Warcraft invaded Star Wars and got horns or something and now they have a castle that looks like a boss level in Diablo IV or V or how many Diablo games they got now.

Now they yelling at people and throwing them in the basement today. Makes sense, gotta fight the orcs and stuff. Think they fight the orcs in the basement?

The Night Elf Horned Queen hired Daddy Rambo and Julio to get people, I guess they’re turning into Boba Fett or something. They got her son's horn back, guess that's good. Oh they need new paint jobs on their armor.

Do they end up in the basement in the Diablo Boss Level? No? And off they go! 

Daddy Rambo and Julio are in their homeland of FLORIDA! Hell yeah, SPACE FLORIDA! And they’re bringing the talking trashcan with them using straps! Go Julio go!  Yeah, boa vines, this is TOTALLY the Everglades! 

Escaped clone boys! Oh man! Shit, is Neverland Ranch in the jungle? Oh man–oh, they know what they’re doing. Good kids. Real good kids. Oh what happened to the rest of them? Oh Meat Muffin, this ain't good :(.

You know what? Them clone boys are smart, take it back, this ain’t Space Florida, this is Space Louisiana! Them baby boys gone get feral and run off into the bayou and live in the caves and now you know my origin story, Meat Muffin! 

If this was Florida they'd just end up working the late shift at Zaxby's and smoking rocks in the parking lot. We know better, we French and all.

I bet they’ve been living on nutria and half-empty chicken boxes from behind the gas stations. Resourceful scrappy kids and I can tell its making Daddy Rambo proud.

Oh holy SHIT, there go them vines! It's like the kudzu all over again, maybe this is LaFourche Parish?

See, them boys are definitely white trash, Mandalorian rednecks. Look at em, living in the woods and hijacking a plane, but they good kids, saving their brothers. Even saved the robot too. 

Man, all the feels, them poor little boys. What will they do now?  Oh, they're going to Space Daytona! Good, wait, I saw the trailer, doesn't the Empire invade it? THIS AIN'T GOOD MEAT MUFFIN!!!

Wait...where's Toaster Strudel and Rex?

Episode 3: 'Blondie Got a Gun'

Well here's the Emperor. He wants to be immortal. Gotta make that other movie make sense or something.

Where's Darth Vader? Is he running the government when the Emperor is running around giggling?

Don’t you DARE kill Mutant Jimmers, you damn droid. I hate that ugly assed stupid thing. It looks like its scarecrow daddy fucked a microwave and then left it enough money to go to Planned Parenthood but instead spent it on crack and there ya go.  

Oh shut your goddamned yap, Jimmy the Scientist. I bet he gloves that hand up because he keeps shoving it up his own ass and that's why he walks funny all the damn time.

The Emperor also has a Diablo IV or VIII boss level all to himself too at the Museum of Science and Industry. How many Diablo games are there, Meat Muffin?

YEAH, LITTLE ORPHAN BLONDIE! GIT ER DONE!!! They're out! Oh wow! There she goes with Daddy Warcrimes! Kill em all and let GOD SORT THEM OUT! That's my GIRL!!!!

Blondie’s got a gun 

Blondie’s got a gun

Her whole world's come undone

Shooting droids is FUN!

GO MUTANT JIMMERS GO!!!! 

YEAH BLONDIE DADDY WARCRIMES AND MUTANT JIMMERS!!!!!!

I AIN'T A BULLS FAN BUT REPEAT THE THREE PEAT! YEAH!!!!!!

....so when we gonna get Toaster Strudel and Rex? Next one? Where's my reg boys?!

-----------------

Tagging those who missed my Cajun neighbor. LOOKS LIKE REDNECK DOUG IS BACK ON THE MENU, BOYS!

@skellymom @amalthiaph @eyecandyeoz @cdblake1565 @sued134 @merkitty49 @supremechancellorrex @yeehawgeek @wrenkenstein @techs-stitches @deezlees @autistic-artistech @perfectlywingedcrusade @auntie-venom @megmca @thecoffeelorian

[caineinthecorner]

Languages (The Others)

★ Based on my language general hcs + the brothers' hcs.

Hi I am sleep deprived. Behold part two of my shitty hc delusions wooooo.

"Caine you missed some" yeah I'm lazy (+ don't know their characterization well enough). If you want to add hcs for the guys I skipped you can but in the meantime I'll go with the basic bitch options

Gentle reminder I make shit up. (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠��⁠)

★ Solomon.

Okay so like I said with Asmo he knows french (and they're both nasty with it)

Basically he rizzed up Asmo in french

Using the dude he was in based out of he also knows English (native probably), Welsh, German, full-ass Demon Tongue and like some latin for magic bs. Idk

(bcs the guy lived nearby those countries in ye old Europe(tm) and something something immortal so why tf not learn languages while at it)

(also of course he learned demon tongue. He wants to rizz up demons and what better way to do that)

He learned demon tongue from random demons and a lot of trial and error

Plus he knows japanese if we are under the pretense that mc is japanese.

So like Solomon tries to use language rizz to get close to you as the other human student in Devildom. So basically using the Asmo trick with you.

... He's kinda painfully obvious with it

(how tf did Asmodeus fall for this shit?)

If you don't speak any of the languages he is fluent in his ass will ABSOLUTELY pick 'em up and be like "hey I want to learn:)"

He uses language as a tool to get what he wants basically

No wonder him and Asmo get along

If you know a language that is not loquar-translatable and he speaks it as well prepare to get secret-talk'd a lot.

Not having people spying your convos is a incredibly valuable asset in Devildom

Especially since you're around the brothers almost 24/7 and they're fucking VIGILANT

Oh also he 100% knows that Asmo fakes being shit at English.

But he's a simp so 乁⁠(⁠ ⁠•⁠_⁠•⁠  ⁠)⁠ㄏ

★ Luke.

FUNNILY ENOUGH. Two things:

Yes he doesn't need Loquar to communicate with you since he's an angel BUT

For some reason (cough your heritage cough) he keeps messing up in which language speak to you with.

Angel instincts are telling him to just use whatever language with you but the thing is that You Don't Know Whatever Language

Which is odd because that's something he only does with fellow angels????

But you are human so

He doesn't think much of it. He's probably just confused because he's around mean demons! >:T

(His basic subconscious instincts are harder to control since he's low ranking and his Angel brain is going "You = angel = language doesn't matter")

But since he keeps somewhat messing up around you he decides to gesture to hell when talking to you just in case

so you get the gist through his mannerisms in case his words get fucky

His least favorite language ever is Demon Tongue. Even outside of Not Liking Demons he doesn't like how throat-y and intensive it is.

↑ that is a popular Angel opinion btw. Demon Tongue in general is just annoying to use for them and barely any Angels use it outside of in-the-moment communication with Devildom natives.

If you ask him his preferred language he'll say some form of Latin since it's the preferred language of most high ranked angels, as well as Michael's.

But it's actually English.

★ Simeon.

Since he is was a high rank angel, he doesn't mess up what language speak to you with. He has real good control of stuff like that that comes with experience and age.

(in fact he's very confused why Luke keeps messing up so bad around you but doesn't think much of it since Luke is technically still a fledgling)

I already said this but yeah his preferred language is Archaic Latin (shared it with Lucifer pre-fall).

Ever since Lucifer's fall he switched to plain English and that's the answer he'll give you if you ask.

Only Angel that isn't bothered speaking demon tongue and will do so at his own leisure.

If you try to learn the demon language he is unironically so helpful because he isn't a spiteful bitch like Lucifer and actually teaches you shit without throwing you into the wolves

In fact Simeon is amused as hell over the fact that Lucifer is making you learn the hard stuff first. That is so him.

He's like the good cop of the learning dynamic. Cool substitute teacher vibes

Simeon finds accents to be the cutest thing ever since it is an inherently odd concept for someone fluent in Everything Ever

He has (jokingly) cooed over Luci's accent when he speaks Latin nowadays. Lucifer is not at all amused.

★ Barbatos.

He knows every language.

... Yeah that's it that's the list

Look at me dead in the eyes and tell me this motherfucker does not speak Sumerian

Ofc he knows every human language ever. And Devildom's. He knows™.

Funniest thing is that he doesn't even need Loquar to talk to you. He just deadass speaks your language with full fluency and you Never Notice

You only notice one day while having a normal convo with him and then Diavolo walks in speaking full deadass gibberish somehow and you're like ????? and Barbatos says "oh apologies I forgot to apply Loquar to you here you go"

Like deadass he would fuck with you so hard when it comes to languages.

Do not go to this man for language advice he will teach you proper stuff in the most incorrect way possible

(Probably! Or probably not! It depends! On what? Who the fuck knows™!)

He's deadass a roulette of proper, legitimate advice or literal shitposting

He wrote the Voynich manuscript. It was a housekeeping journal he was keeping in a dead Devildom idiom that ended up in the human realm by accident

He didn't retrieve it solely because seeing humans go insane over it was funny as hell and he has a secondary copy anyway. That book has nothing relevant in it besides like two recipes.

He did go to check back on it once to write down a meat pie recipe Diavolo's father liked bcs he didn't have on the copy

Barbatos is the definition of "wtf what language was that" "yes."

He and Lucifer have random days where they just pick a language to speak to each other. It helps to maintain fluency.

Barbatos jumpscared Satan once by going, full ass unprompted mid convo, "Oh right you speak Tagalog."

He knows what languages everyone speaks like a white girl knows zodiac charts

★ Diavolo.

Ok so he probably knows English since it is Solomon's native and humanity's current universal(ish) language

Like of course he wants to communicate with humans! Of course he'll learn their language!!!

Unlike Barbatos and Lucifer who are very impressive Polyglots he's realistic in his language stuff. The more down-to-earth of the three

His English is hilarious

Not particularly because he says things wrong but his accent and tone just makes it sound incredibly funny

He sounds exactly like a dubbed-over superhero doing a friendship monologue At All Times

He is so earnest with it that you don't have the heart to explain why you're laughing

Anyhow fun fact:

Loquar for some reason translates what he says in Demon Tongue the most literal ass sense possible for literally no reason

Which is odd(tm) but mostly just funny as all hell

Everyone has been troubleshooting whatever the fuck happens to Loquar Ad Vos with Diavolo but no idea so far.

The phrase "have you tried unpapplying it and applying it again" has been uttered more than once unironically

The working theory is that since Diavolo is royalty and Loquar Ad Vos was created with the sampling of normal demons it works wrong on him since there's something different(tm)

Reverse engineering the Loquar spell to work on him has been in the works for a while. Loquar is drafted like shit since it is an old human-oriented spell (Basically like spaghetti code needing to be rewritten), so it proves a bit troublesome.

You later find that Diavolo speaks in a very uniquely pronounced manner

↑ Think of it like Devildom royalty has a very distinctive Way Of Speaking. Like an accent but also not. Probably magic related in some way(?)

"do you want to consume nourishment" ← Diavolo's ass getting mistranslated

So yeah Barbatos or Lucifer kinda have to lend a hand when you two communicate.

If you're English speaking then you two kinda communicate that way sometimes. You reassure him on his accent and help him along if he gets anything wrong.

(he's fluent-ish in Japanese as well if we are running in the assumption that the reason why MC's canonically japanese is because they needed someone who A) speaks a language translatable by Loquar Ad Vos B) is also a language Diavolo knows and C) is not of the same social background as Solomon)

He will get so unapologetically excited when you start learning demon tongue. You two can!!! Communicate even more!!!!!

Demons will be genuinely mortified if you gain Diavolo's accent while speaking demon tongue. Why does this random ass human speak like royalty ತ⁠_⁠ತ

Very (un)subtle way to tell everyone that you're besties/partner/whatever of the literal prince of Devildom.

Something something dragon being possessive something

[siriusblack-the-third]

ok, any headcanons on james that compliment the ones you've done for sirius?

i absolutely loved those and i'm really curious about james

HELL YEAH LETS GO

ADHD. This dude has to be moving, fidgeting, doing something, always. It tires him, and he sleeps very soundly for a full seven hours. Doesn't wake up even for earthquakes (Sirius once did a mini earthquake spell on the dorm room floor in the middle of the night as a prank. It did not wake him.)

Wakes up at an ungodly fucking hour. He doesn't own an alarm clock (it has no effect on him), but his internal clock is set to wake him up at exactly 4:30 in the morning for quidditch practice. He is done with jogging through the entire castle, half an hour of yoga, and an hour of quidditch before 7 A.M. rolls around. Sirius calls him "a demon from muggle hell" for it.

The only one who can keep up with Sirius' intelligence. He is scarily smart, but because most of his time is invested in quidditch and pranks, nobody realises just how smart he is until the results are handed out and he's right there next to Sirius on the top of the rankings. Both of them are always exchanging ranks 1 and 2 on overall performance. It annoys Snape and Lily to no end, because those two are always exchanging ranks 3 and 4 on the list.

The definition of Reckless. If Sirius hadn't stopped him, he would probably have turned the castle to rubble in less than five minutes. This was the exact reason why people (who were in the know) were surprised when Sirius was the one that sent Snape to Moony. They had all thought it would be James' fault.

A fucking bookworm. My dude reads literally everything from mystery to romance to encyclopaedias to research papers to fucking dictionaries of different languages. Even when he doesn't speak the language, the weirdo (affectionate and derogatory).

Indian. Specifically, from Pune city, Maharashtra.

About languages, he's learnt a lot of them. The order of learning of languages, starting from his native tongue, is thus: Marathi, Sanskrit, Hindi, English, Ancient Greek, Tamil, French and Latin. He learnt the first six at home, and French and Latin from Sirius. He's good with languages.

Photographic memory. The reason he never has to study, and also the fact that he understands everything he reads on the first try.

He and Sirius both have twelve OWLs and eight NEWTs. They have Outstandings in all of them.

My dude has the widest, largest doe eyes possible. The only people who can withstand them for more than two minutes are his parents and Sirius.

Bharatanatyam dancer. Has his Visharad certificate, and genuinely enjoys dancing. Gives at least three evenings per week for dance practice to keep up his muscle memory.

Doesn't actually hate Slytherins. Neither does Sirius. Both of them have several friends from the house of Serpents, they just hate the ones that actively use Dark Magic on muggleborns, and Snape and his gang are a part of that.

Lmao the sheer arrogance in him, oh my fucking Gods—

Doesn't give a shit about the rules set by other people (unless they're set by his parents), but has a set of rules for himself that he strictly follows. No one can tell what these rules are, but he has them and he follows them. At the top of that list, there is "never betray your loved ones". He followed that one until his death.

Nevertheless, he will break every single rule. Every. Single. Rule. For Sirius. For Sirius, he will do anything, from taking care of him when he's sick to burning the world for him.

The Hat would actually have put him in Slytherin, except he had no ambitions except to cause chaos at the tiny age of eleven years. Otherwise, he's almost a perfect fit for Slytherin— determined, strong willed, cunning enough to pull difficult pranks, resourceful (because how else you gon plan epic pranks?)

He went to Gryffindor for three reasons and three reasons only: Sirius was there, he had no particular ambition, he wanted to be with Sirius.

M O T H E R H E N. Such a mother hen, but only for a select few people (the marauders, Lily, and Harry). He doesn't give a fuck about anyone else, but these are my people and if I weren't here they would literally get themselves killed put of household related incompetence how are you still alive by the Gods—

Follows ancient Vedic religion (because I do hehe)

Very very panromantic. Demisexual.

Had a crush on Sirius for a short while in fourth year, and then on Frank Longbottom in sixth year after he had one (1) glance at the older boy dressed in full Auror robes.

Loved his mother so much omg he was such a Mama's boyyy

Gave shit to Remus for looking like a professor at the tender age of fifteen, but wanted to become a Transfiguration Professor himself. He was also excellent at Potions (another reason Snape hated him) but decided ultimately that Transfiguration was his calling

Was in his last year of his Transfiguration Mastery on Samhain of 81.

Died with a Killing Curse on his lips. He was ready to cast it wandlessly, for his wife and child. Died with a Killing Curse on his lips.

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S02E10 - The French Connection

The episode from which I found out that there are some islands close to Canada that belong to France somehow. And apparently now there's also a crime show set in those islands?

From Wikipedia: Saint-Pierre is a Canadian police procedural television series, slated to premiere in the 2024–25 season on CBC Television. The series stars Alan Hawco as Donny "Fitz" Fitzpatrick, a police officer with the Royal Newfoundland Constabulary; after one of his investigations gets uncomfortably close to the corruption of a powerful local politician, he is exiled to the French territory of Saint-Pierre and Miquelon, where he partners with local police officer Geneviève "Arch" Archambault (Joséphine Jobert) to to solve local crimes.

Now, wait a second. That's about half the plot of this Hudson and Rex episode!

Anyway, on to the episode.

A girl carrying baguettes on a bicycle???

"I hope he's not some pretentious Godard-quoting chain smoker." Just once, look around before you speak.

I got you now, mister Black Coffee. That's more milk than what I put in my latte.

We've already established some of the most popular stereotypes for French and Canadian people. Valerie is already snobbish and Charlie has already apologized once.

While on duty?

Oh my god his face when the dude spits out the gin in the spit bucket lmao

I like many kinds of drinks but I admit that gin leaves me uninterested. I don't know what it is about it.

Well, hello there, Aaron Ashmore, twin brother of Shawn Ashmore. For anyone who doesn't know, this not the guy who's on The Rookie, but he is the guy who was on Killjoys, with Mayko Nguyen.

People keep handing Valerie drinks and Charlie keeps saying "we're on duty". Just give up.

Why does he look so happy to be digging through trash???

Claire just said that there's no law against lying to the police. What?

Valerie, when you doubt Charlie, it's funny. When you doubt Sarah and Rex, you sound like a twat.

Well, don't sound so proud about it.

"You're more comfortable with dogs than people". Probably, but that's because people are often twats.

Charlie's face is pure comedy in this episode. So funny.

Sarah gets to go undercover AND drink gin. Well, if we call that drinking.

She says "you guys" but only looks at Charlie. You're not even subtle.

Charlie: Oh, hell to the no. This is a trap.

Valerie is not wrong here. That's gross, not to mention unsanitary. He'd put so much milk in it that it must have gone bad by now. And judging by his reaction when he takes a sip, it probably has. Never drink coffee with dairy that's been left out for more than two hours, folks.

I only wish I could capture the following scene with Sarah and Jesse competing on who's going to deliver the new evidence that they have found out. But I think Sarah's "I'll fucking murder that twink" face is very telling.

Now, cognac, I like. Although, according to google, the most expensive cognac is Henri IV, not V. I'm sure they've written that intentionally. The real cognac is worth up to 2 million dollars, by the way. People are crazy.

Charlie does not understand any of this and to be honest, neither am I. Any bottle of wine that costs more than 20 Euros is a scam. Any clear alcohol like whiskey, gin, rum, vodka, that costs more than 50 Euros is also a scam.

"No CCTV cameras anywhere. You might say that it's the perfect place for murder". I don't remember a lot of cases outdoors that were solved by watching CCTV cameras either way. Which makes sense. I mean, how many CCTV cameras does a city like St. John's need?

This is such a funny episode, really.

We must do this at least once in any Rex adaptation. I bet it's in the contracts lol

Joe: *counts* One [Valerie], two [Charlie], *skips Jesse* three of you [Rex] are going on a trip. lol poor Jesse.

*tries to speak French and gets guns pointed at him* Come on, it wasn't that bad, was it? (Yes, I'd have put that line in there if I could.)

That's why he'll move soon!

The chase scene was good too.

Ugh, Valerie has her finger on the trigger. No.

Joe: "Can anyone explain to me why I was asked to comp a 300 dollar cognac bill?" Justice isn't cheap, Superintendent. Although for that many bottles... I mean, I can't find cognac that cheap here.

We had whiskey glasses in S1, what the hell happened?

Well, I enjoyed that. I didn't remember it was such a funny episode. And I maxed out the image limit again.

[wanderingpages]

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾Gentle Sins AU☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

“Are you going to help me take my clothes off too?” I meant it to sound teasing – I wanted to show him I could play his game too – but I was breathless, I was buzzing with anticipation.

“You know it wouldn’t end there, Jude,” he gave me a wry look. “It's a shame,” he rose and ruffled my hair, “It's a shame you’re my sister,” he murmured, needlessly reminding me. “Because that was some damn fine pussy, baby.”

TFOTA // All Human // AU : Jude and Cardan do things step-siblings shouldn't do.

Trigger Warnings: Crude language, Allusions to Drugs/Alcohol, Debauching Catholicism/Religious Metaphors, Taboo Sex.

Shoutout @headcannonxgalore for holding down the set ❤️

Jude's POV

Cardan is never home – at least not when I am, which is usually always. As far as I knew, he stayed with his dad, went on long vacations, and otherwise only met up with his mom once in a while. So, it irks me a little when I see him waiting for me after my last final, asking, “Are you ready to head home?” Home – as in my home.  

He waits for me to pack and say goodbye to my friends, then leads me to his car, and holds the door open for me. “You’re staying with us?” I ask a few minutes into the drive, finding whatever was on the radio to be a little annoying and dull. I open the glove compartment, nosily, sifting through the pack of wipes and snackbars, and pull out a thin worn out book. It’s mostly a discolored yellow, with red writing, in french, La Chute – The Fall by Albert Camus. I flip through the pages, surprised to see dog ears and sticky notes throughout. 

“My father isn’t in the country, and why be alone, when I can be with my favorite sister?” His eyes are on the road but his wry smile is directed at me when I glance up at him. He reaches over and takes the book from me, tossing it to the back of the car. “You don't need existentialism now, Jude.”

I grimace; it’s not as if I could read French anyways, though it is surprising that Cardan has that copy in its original language. “Is it your favorite?” I ask. I wiggle my brows, “Do you think you, too, have fallen from grace?”

His smile is Cheshire in response, “Since the day I met you, little sister.” I cross my eyes upwards. 

I scrunch my nose,“You can be so….” I trail off, wanting to say infuriating or annoying, but I didn't really need to, he already guesses it. 

He responds, “Likewise.” He must sense the incredulous look I give him because he checks me, “You could have said no. To the drive home,” he says, for instance. “Me, in your dorm,” he begins to list, making me feel incredibly self aware. “Walking you home from the party – being in the same room as me at that party, actually. Ghost would have found someplace else if you asked. Even prior to that,” Cardan tells me, “You could have told me no at the reception. But you didn't. We have these cute little trysts for a few hours and then you pretend it’s never happened. I guess you’re kind of like your dad, in that way.” He says the last bit quietly, but I frown all the same. Before I can ask him what he means, he admits, “It’s okay, I’m like my dad too, for even putting up with it. I guess I like being strung along.”

“Cardan…”

“I like stringing you along, too. It's fun to see who’d last the longest. It’s fun to see how far this would go. Do I get to drag you to hell with me, little sister?”  I should be bothered by Cardan’s words, but he’s not wrong. His introspection makes the car feel stuffy, so I roll down the window and let the air rush in. He grins and turns the dial on the stereo louder, singing along softly to the lyrics as if they are proving his point. “And you'll find yourself praying up to Heaven above, but honestly I never had much sympathy 'cause those bad things, I always saw them coming for me…I'm gonna run, run away, run, run away, run away…” Bad Things by Cults – it is a jarring song; calm and disruptive, a lot like how it feels being in this small space with him. My pointer finger grazes the knuckle of my thumb absently. I rest my head back, listening to his voice. 

“You’re kind of a dick,” I finally tell him. Of course he knows this, but saying it out loud made me feel less lousy about how he’s painted me.

“I must have gotten it from Mom.” I frown at that, finding it to seem untrue. The more time I spend with Cardan, the more my view on my stepmother starts to shift

I hesitate to ask about his dad, to go back to the reason he’s driving me home – Asha’s first husband. Did Asha string him along? Is that what Cardan was getting at? Is she doing the same to my father and I? Is my father aware? “Why didn’t you…” I trail off when I realize it really isn’t  any of my business, but still, he prompts me to continue. “I mean, I guess, why didn’t you spend more time with Asha? Did she not have shared custody of you or something?”

His eyebrows shoot up, and I turn in my seat to look at him, waiting to see if he’d tell me to fuck off or not. What he says instead, throws me off, “Asha was deemed unfit to parent.” I blink hard at this, in disbelief. If he notices, he doesn't say anything about it. Instead, he shifts the conversation to me; asks about my mom.

“She… I don’t know,” I admit, probably for the first time in my life. “She left me – us, Dad and I, when I was five. I don’t know where she is. I think she’s started a new family somewhere else.” I face forward and rest my elbow on the door handle, absently nipping at my thumb. As an afterthought, I say, “Maybe she’s dead.” he hums out a response, but he has no clue of the spiral he’s sent me on. Or maybe he does, and that's why when we stop for gas at the next rest stop, he tosses me a first aid kit. He waits until I put the antiseptic cream on and wrap thin gauze around my knuckles. My cheeks heat; he had noticed when my fingers started to bleed. In truth, Cardan doesn't really even need gas, so I say thank you and give him a bright smile when I’m done. 

He tilts his head and reaches for my hair, brushing it back behind my ears. He looks like he wants to say something but thinks better of it at the last moment and instead asks if I’m hungry. “There’s a diner a few miles ahead.” biding more time with him, I nod my head and let him pay for a meal. 

The diner is cozy, but I’m not in the mood for a big meal, so I settle for a slice of cherry pie. We are at the darkest corner of the diner, and while it feels pretty private, I’m still keenly aware of the scatter of guests coming and going. Because of where we are seated, it takes some time for the waitress to notice, then even more time for our food and drinks to arrive. We are mostly forgotten here in this pocket of the diner. I don’t think I mind much, though.

I steer the conversation to less heavy and more neutral topics. I ask about the frat house and why he’s not actually a part of it. When he tells me his dad donates a hefty sum of money to the college, that surprises me. I guess, there really is a lot about him I had no idea of. “I'm an honorary member,” he shrugs, “It’s kind of hard not to be when Daddy funds their lifestyle.” I crack a smile because Cardan can be dorky sometimes. I ask about his relationships with the other members, I suppose wanting to know more about his stance on Ghost, really. If he would have been okay with anybody creeping into his room with me that night. “Ghost is my best friend. It would have been a fight had it been Locke or anyone else,” he divulges, and though I shouldn't be startled by his honesty, it still makes me feel a little too warm. Then he admits, maybe selfishly considering his track record for the past few weeks, “If he had gone further, I would have buried him.”

My eyes get wide and when I say, “That's not fair,” it comes out in a whisper.

“I know.” 

Cardan had ordered a burger, so when it finally arrives, he pushes the platter more to the center of the table and tells me to eat some of his fries; he halfheartedly jokes that I'd probably get sick if I only eat sugar for lunch. I take a few to appease him, nibbling them almost thoughtfully. “That's a visceral reaction,” I come to terms with. “Your best friend?” I blush when I remind him quietly, “you’re the one who told me to open my mouth.”

“I rather his load in your mouth than on your body or in your cunt,” he says graphically. I cough in shock but he’s not bothered. “Plus, I think you look cute with a dick in your mouth.”

I scowl at him after reaching for a sip of soda. “What makes you think you have any right over my body?”

“I know I don't.” He picks at a fry, “I told you, baby, you could have said no.” I’m taken aback but I should know by now, my step brother is anything but a liar. I ponder his admittance of jealousy, but also his acceptance that he really had no say - only what I let him have say over, and I realize, I let him have say over a lot. “You could have ignored me and hopped on his dick. Maybe it would have been a blow to my ego, but then I probably wouldn't be in this diner right now with you.” He always says so much while saying so little, doesn't he? “Anyways, if you decide to tell me to fuck off and pursue Ghost instead, you should walk around with condoms, because I know he doesn’t.” It’s so offhanded that I don't even really process it as anything more than banter. 

“I’m on birth control,” I tell him indignantly, willfully ignoring all else that was said. “I don't want to be with Ghost, anyways.” I let him take that as he may and I dig into my pie as if to end the conversation there. I want to let him know I don’t want to be with him either, but that would be lying and despite myself, I just couldn’t tell Cardan to fuck off.  After a while, I notice him staring. “Do you want some of my pie,” I offer.

“Is that a euphemism?”

I shift my head to the side as if I’m actually thinking about it. My feet finds his under the table, and with my legs crossed, I have enough leverage to use my ankle to softly graze up his leg. “Do you want it to be?”

He catches hold of my ankle, uncrossing my legs to place my foot on his thigh. I lean back in the booth a little awkwardly, and lick at my cherry coated spoon. “What's the pipeline between mommy issues and wanting to bend your sister over the bathroom sink?” Cardan muses.

“Stepsister,” I tell him. I wiggle my foot in his grip. I have on snow boots and leggings, not at all looking as sexy as I feel right now. 

He shrugs and with his free hand, reaches across the table and dips two fingers into the center of the slice. “It makes no difference to me, Jude. Sister or not, I’d want you the same way I wanted you then, the same way I want you now.”  I watch as he pulls them out slowly, completely coating his fingers with the sticky sweet maroon. I follow his fingers to where he hovers them in front of his mouth then sticks his tongue out and flattens it against his digits, tasting the honeyed tart. I shiver and twist in my seat, eyes slowly drifting up to find his dark ones already piercing into my soul. 

“And…” my words come out breathy against my will. “How do you want me, now?” I play with fire to condition myself. Hell is hot, I’ve heard, and maybe Cardan does get to drag me there with him.

“I want you to copy me,” he says, huskily, startling me, my eyes growing wide. “I want you to stick your fingers in your panties and do what I do.”

My breathing gets erratic in mere seconds. I look around the near empty diner, like if I’m actually contemplating it. “You’re crazy,” I whisper. His eyes are teasing, daring me to say no to him, proving his point all over again when I don’t.

Cardan grins, “Take your jacket off, put it on over your lap. Don’t worry, baby sister, it’ll be our little secret.” His teeth scrape the tip of his fingers. I’m crazy, too, I think, as I do exactly what he asks. “I bet it’s already wet,” he leans over the table, talking quietly. I slip my hand beneath the elastic material of my leggings then under the cotton of my panties, glancing to see if anyone had caught on. Cardan catches my chin, fingerprinting it red and turning me to face him. “Is it?”

“Yes,” I whisper, embarrassed, but not enough to stop. “Soaking.”

“Good girl. Now watch,” he instructs, leaning back. He guides my leg to the side of him, spreading my thighs wider. He takes his cherried fingers and separates them into a V Shape. The tip of his tongue traces the inner part, slowly. I swallow thickly, shaking as I let my fingers follow along, circling the outside of my pussy, mirroring his movements. 

My leg beside him starts to tremble, but with his free hand, he holds me still, caressing me soothingly. He tongues the crook of his fingers and I hesitate before I begin rubbing my clit with matching vigor. My eyes flutter, and I try to hold in an embarrassing noise as my head falls back against the cushioned seat. My eyes are still trying to focus on him, matching the pressure, matching the rhythm, though struggling to even stay at half mast.  I bite my lower lip when he presses his fingers together and strokes between them wetly. He licks his own lips then asks, “How do you feel?”

“Good,” I mumble. Scared – “Nervous,” I admit, looking at him with blown out eyes and heat erupting all over my body. My fingers shake, but the shallow caresses make me shamefully wet. “Cardan,” I silently plead, my chest moving up and down sporadically, my stomach tightening, muscles contorting. “Come here,” I beg.

Without a word, Cardan complies, getting up from his seat to sit right next to me. I pivot slightly, leaning sideways into the booth. He strokes my hair back soothingly, and traces my lips with his still stained fingers. My lips part, just a taste of the cherries slipping through. I moan quietly and he says, “Don’t stop, okay, Jude?” I nod my head as much as I can with the way he holds me. He paints my lips methodically, over and over, and I find my fingers mirroring him between my legs. He watches, fixated on the way my mouth parts and moves, gasping and widening for his fingers to slip through. “I think…I want to do to you what Spring does to cherry trees,” he murmurs. “Open you up…watch you bloom.” 

My eyes screw shut tightly. His fingers probe my mouth, pressing down on my tongue. My fingers slide in too, entering with a slow pressure. He strokes inside my mouth and when he tells me to suck it clean, my stomach knots in response. I do; I suck until there is no trace of cherry left, no red stains or residue, and I finger myself in tandem. He pulls out of my mouth, a trail of spit losing connection when he finds his way under the jacket, following my hand, and adding his finger to my two. I whimper at his intrusion, and think, disoriented, three. Three fingers. 

He licks up my chin before he kisses me, letting me taste the forgotten smudge he’d left on me, while he slowly works both our digits inside of me the way he wants. I hold on to his sweater with my free hand, fingers gripping tightly as my toes begin to curl. My painfully quiet whines are being swallowed by him greedily. 

I yank him closer to me when the waitress comes by. I forget to breathe when she makes a squeak and with horror, my eyes flit to her blushing cheeks. She smiles bashfully, “Oh don’t mind me,” she says, not at all realizing what is happening under the table, “Here’s the bill, you love birds,” she giggled. God, we must look like teenagers making out back here.

Cardan pulls away only slightly, fingers replacing my frozen ones gently pushing them away, and sliding his two fingers deeper into me. My head falls forward, hiding my face in his sweater when he curves them just right. “Sorry,” He tells the waitress, holding my gaze. “I just missed her so much,” he lies. “Missed her in my arms,” he murmurs.

“Oh hush, don't be sorry,” the waitress says almost fondly and I feel only partially sick over it. She sounds further away, “I was young once too.” 

“Missed her pretty face when I made her come,” Cardan continues, speaking to me alone, lips touching mine every so often. He pumps me faster and I take a chunk of his sweater into my mouth, biting down on it so hard my jaw hurts. “Missed the way she felt when her pussy gripped my fingers.” I feel like I’m on the brink of death, gasping for breath, eyes starting to gloss. He holds my head back, making sure I’m in view of him. My ears feel like I’m underwater; everything is static except for Cardan and his words. For a moment, I forget where I am. He swallows my screams when I can't hold back, rubbing his fingers roughly, forcing my body to twitch against his. I bite down on his lips so hard but he takes it in stride, until I’m slumped against him, feeling absolutely weightless. He pulls away from me to kiss my forehead too softly for the utter seismic orgasm he’d just given me. When I lean back, Cardan looks as flushed as I feel. For once, his cheeks are the ones that are red and his forehead is glistening with sweat. His eyes are dazed, his lips swollen and red. 

“I… Are you okay?” I asked almost in a slur. I trace his cheek up to his ear, flicking the cross earring dangling from the first piercing. His dark eyes pierce mine when he brings his still wet fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean.

He smiles languidly, reaching in his pocket for a few bills I know is far over the actual amount necessary. He gets up first and leads me out of the booth. I use my jacket to cover myself up, and in a muddle, we walk out of the diner, hand in hand. 

He kisses me sweetly when we get to his car, and I kiss him back, because we can, for right now. He opens his trunk and I dig out the first pair of necessary clothing I find in my overnight bag and then he opens the door to the backseat for me, standing lookout as I awkwardly try to change.

“Cardan?” I ask when we’re on the road again. “Are you okay?” he’d been silent since I asked the first time back at the diner, I realize belatedly.

His smile is lazy and maybe even disoriented. “I don’t even like cherries,” he finally mumbles. 

I glance at his fingers instinctively, like I can still see the filling there. “Is it…is it out of your system?”

His brows furrow almost comically. “Cherries?”

“Me,” I tell him. When he doesn't answer, I explain, “We can't do this at home, Cardan… our parents…” he snorts at that, but never really gives me an answer.

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Masterlist

Gentle Sins Masterlist

[dipperscavern]

Who up pondering they orb rn? Dipper, that's who!

It's me, chonky, and I hereby request your finest 🔮 reading, please and thank you. Also, sorry for the oncoming wall of text.

As my self-proclaimed title suggests, I am chonky. I'd say I'm probably mid-sized actually but that's only really because I lost some weight when covid happened and the depression rolled in. Anyway, I think I'm 5'5/5'6 but I actually don't know so that's just an estimate based on how tall I am compared to my mom who's 5'11.

I'm biracial but my father's irish-italian genes colonized me so hard, my only afro-centric features I inherited from my mom is my nose, lips, and curly hair, textured around the 3a-3c mark depending on how agreeable my hair is.

I also used to speak spanish when I was way younger because I grew up around my mom's family and she's half puerto rican on her dad's side. Unfortunately, that got whitewashed too when me and my parents moved and I know longer know the language.

I'm from New Jersey but was primarily raised in the New England area of America. I'm (almost) 19 and unlike Jared, I did learn how to read and I enjoy it very much.

I love music of all kinds except country and k-pop is on really thin ice. I'm self-diagnosed autistic and incredibly socially awkward. I make a lot of race jokes but in the "white people can't season their damn food" way instead of the "racist remarks and racial slurs I can't reclaim" way. I'm here, I'm queer, and I really, really need a beer because these damn politicians are going to turn me into an alcoholic, I swear.

I'm a switch but I prefer to dom. Or at least I would. Unfortunately, I get no bitches for I have no rizz. I also have questionable taste in men and women because best believe, you put me in a room alone with Cersei Lannister, her brother (or her lover), Aegon Targaryen II, Aemond Targaryen, Alicent Hightower, or Criston Cole, all them bitches walking out pregnant and I will not apologize for that.

I think that's it. Sorry for the yapfest. All that not talking to people irl manifests into being a blabbermouth online.

-chonky anon

who up pondering they orb rn (me), ANYWAYS, come, dear chonky, and let my crystal friend tell us which man will you love until your timely end 🔮

hm… i see… who is that? no, seriously, who the hell in my orb rn?? OH A PARTRIDGE IN A PEAR TREE— excuse my french, that’s your brother jared. *i outstretch my hand, and a nearby unseen hamster gladly walks on it. i flip it, using its back to rub my eyes clean. you watch in horror as i finish my business, setting the hamster down, and returning my gaze to my crystal ball*

ah, that’s more like it. yes yes… i gaze upon (the first) king in the north, robb stark. the thing that solidified that for me was the race jokes 😭 he’d think you’re sooooo funny, and you remind him a lot of theon (whether or not that hurts his heart after theons betrayal, we’ll never know). and your attitude about politicians is exactly how robb feels 24/7. he’s a great battle strategist, but politics make his head hurt, and he’d love being able to complain with you. the part about being socially awkward and preferring not to speak with people much would tickle robb’s fancy at times, because he feels like he gets you allll to himself. and don’t even worry about the rizz!! robb is a-okay being the charming one, and relishes in being able to tease you all he likes <3

[noahsresources]

SWEET TOOTH ( 2021 NETFLIX SERIES ): S1E2 ' SORRY ABOUT ALL THE DEAD PEOPLE ' SENTENCE PROMPTS !

part 2 of the series!! reminder that these prompts are not spoiler-free, and may contain potential content warnings for apocalyptic settings, child abuse, drug usage, killing, and death. feel free to change pronouns and/or descriptor words to fit your needs! EVEN MORE SWEET TOOTH PROMPTS

❝ he never listens to me. ❞

❝ it doesn't show mercy, and it is here, and it is now. ❞

❝ everybody left, huh? ❞

❝ are you ready to be free? ❞

❝ fate was bringing all our stories together. ❞

❝ how long are you gonna follow me? ❞

❝ sorry you missed it. oh, well. have a great life. ❞

❝ your jokes aren't very funny. ❞

❝ i'm not alone, i got you. ❞

❝ i said stay put, as in don't leave. ❞

❝ i'll be quiet, i promise. ❞

❝ you're creepy as hell back there. ❞

❝ guys like me aren't good for kids like you. ❞

❝ i'm going to bed. ❞

❝ i don't give a shit, as long as you're gone in the morning. ❞

❝ oh, no. not my food. ❞

❝ i tried some, but they were gross. and they made me feel funny. ❞

❝ you can have my share too! ❞

❝ i get angry when i don't have food. ❞

❝ maybe we can go in together? ❞

❝ leave my head alone! you can't have it! ❞

❝ you get many visitors? ❞

❝ i don't know why people still believe that. ❞

❝ don't get him started. ❞

❝ i'm sorry. i'm afraid i don't know her. ❞

❝ i tried to tell him, she ain't out there, but he's stubborn as hell. ❞

❝ do you bite? ❞

❝ i forget i have them sometimes. ❞

❝ are you who i think you are? ❞

❝ try not to think about it. ❞

❝ you're lucky you made it. ❞

❝ what do you want from us? ❞

❝ we don't want any trouble. ❞

❝ not sure i've met a sorer loser. ❞

❝ i hate it when you call me that. ❞

❝ can you at least bring me back some french fries? ❞

❝ busy as usual tonight? ❞

❝ you know what i went through. ❞

❝ i wouldn't be asking you if i had any other choice. ❞

❝ i've had to do a lot of things i'm not proud of. ❞

❝ you're acting like this is a bad thing. ❞

❝ it goes against everything that we believe in. ❞

❝ we don't want your money. ❞

❝ what are you doing with him? ❞

❝ you're one of them, aren't you? ❞

❝ he believes whatever the hell he wants. ❞

❝ he's better off here than out there. ❞

❝ you're weird. super weird. ❞

❝ what's it like having a mom? ❞

❝ we liked music almost as much as you, apparently. ❞

❝ i couldn't sleep either. ❞

❝ we're not here for you or your family. ❞

❝ come here, little freak. ❞

❝ we'll always find you. ❞

❝ you're doing what you have to, to survive. ❞

❝ sorry about all the dead people. ❞

❝ i can do it on my own. ❞

❝ don't push it. ❞

[hexenmeisterer]

THE ARMAND PLAYLIST

this goes basically chronologically through Armand's story, up through the end of The Vampire Armand. There is definitely show stuff in there as well, I just cannot separate them out! I tried to choose songs that not only describe a specific moment in his story but also apply to him in general. I had a really fun time seeking out songs about Spiritual Bird Stuff, The Movies, Complex Trauma, and Jesus. and finding music in his languages-- there is at least 1 song each in Ukranian, French, Italian, and Latin! (dang, no Greek tho..)

a truly excessive amount of liner notes under the cut!

Seven Swans: religious bird stuff!! references the Book of Revelations, the second coming of christ. all the sevens, the seven seals seven churches etc. 

"UNCUT: Your god seems very vengeful in your songs. STEVENS: [Laughs] Oh no. There's no element of revenge in the character of God, but there's definitely an aggressive joy. He's not chasing you like a stalker, he's chasing you like a lover chases you. There's a lot of aggression in that kind of romance. We pursue things out of reverence, out of our need to worship."

He will take you If you run, He will chase you 'Cause He is the Lord

Afraid: 

Cease to know or to tell or to see Or to be your own Have someone else's will as your own You are beautiful and you are alone

Donna Donna: RELIGIOUS BIRD STUFF PT 2 

the various translations from Yiddish on the wikipedia page are interesting!! 

On a wagon bound for market There's a calf with a mournful eye High above him, there's a swallow Winging swiftly through the sky

el árbol del olvido:

 lyrics translated

Where I was born there is a tree that is called forgetfulness Where, to console themselves, vidalita(my little life) the moribund souls go

Rock me Amadeus: the lyrics of rock me amadeus are profoundly irrelevant. except for the Rock Me Amadeus part :)

Mi Sei Scoppiato Dentro Il Cuore / You Burst Inside My Heart: 

lyrics translated

Maybe because you looked at me Like no one has ever looked at me I feel alive Suddenly for you

Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy : marius de romanus literally founded the good old fashioned school of lover boys, and armand did, in fact, learn his passion there :)

Gronlandic Edit:

So am I erasing myself? Hope I'm not erasing myself I guess it would be nice to give my heart to a god But which one, which one do I choose?

Amarilli Mia Bella: “The verse alludes to the Greek myth of Amaryllis who, picking flowers on a mountainside, falls in love with the shepherd Alteus. He, however, is interested only in flowers, and says that he can love only the girl who brings him a new flower. Amaryllis follows the advice of the Oracle at Delphi, taking a temple arrow and waiting on Alteus’s doorstep each night, piercing her breast and her heart as she calls his name. Because of the shepherd’s dilatory response, she is obliged to repeat her action for thirty nights, after which he finally emerges to find a beautiful flower where her blood has fallen. Naturally, the flower was named in her honour.”

Lyrics and commentary

take this my arrow, open my breast  and you shall see written in my heart:  Amaryllis is my love.

Venus in Furs: hashtag masochism... Also probably marius loved this painting which masoch was referencing in the title of his book 

Whiplash girl child in the dark Comes in bells, your servant, don't forsake him Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart

Liquid Smooth:

I'm beautiful, I know 'cause it's the season But what am I to do with all this beauty?... I'm at my highest peak, I'm ripe About to fall, capture me

Angry Johnny: this one goes out to you, Lord Harlech! 😘

Johnny, angry Johnny This is Jezebel in Hell I wanna kill you I wanna blow you … away

Ave Verum Corpus: Armand’s experience of near-death.

Hail the true body, born of the Virgin Mary: You who truly suffered and were sacrificed on the cross for the sake of man. From whose pierced side flowed water and blood: Be a foretaste for us in the trial of death. O sweet, O gentle, O Jesu, son of Mary, have mercy on me. Amen.

“William Byrd’s setting of this text was written to celebrate the Feast of Corpus Christi, which had been outlawed in England in 1548 following the Reformation. But Roman Catholics still surviving in England still celebrated the feast secretly, sometimes more brazenly.

Kerry McCarthy (in her book Byrd) writes that Corpus Christi had been an especially festive holy day before the clamp-down on popish rituals commenced. “Medieval parishes had celebrated it with lavish floral displays and elaborate outdoor processions [of the Blessed Sacrament], and this sort of activity continued even after Catholic worship became illegal in England.” https://canticasacra.org/byrd-ave-verum-corpus/

What Was I Made For: 

I used to float, now I just fall down I used to know but I'm not sure now What I was made for What was I made for?

II MOST WANTED: Armand is a passenger princess! No but fr I really like the two meanings of “most wanted” here — they are pursued by enemies, and also armand sees himself as the most desired, most beloved. (Also I like this next to “In The Backseat” later as two moments of Carseat Metaphor.) also just this sense of being devoted completely to marius forever.

Didn't know what I want 'til I saw your face Say goodbye to the old me Came out of nowhere, didn't give no warnin' Pedal so heavy like the two most wanted… I’ll be your shotgun rider ‘til the day I die.

Suffering Mother: Armand’s return to Ukraine and seeing his parents again.

Lyrics translated

Lovingly I bathe you with my bitter tears, As I sought to hide you from the wicked foes. My heart is breaking, for I must now lose you Never more, my dear son, will I ever see you Son of mine

Water Me: 

He told me I was so small, I told him “water me” I promise I can grow tall when making love is free

Linger: "I'm such a fool for you" !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Dies Irae: Children of Satan arrive on the scene!

In the Backseat: Armand losing the anchor of Marius and getting forced onto the path towards coven leadership

I like the peace In the backseat I don't have to drive I don't have to speak I can watch the countryside Alice died In the night I've been learning to drive My whole life

You Want It Darker: Armand’s conversion to Children of Darkness .. no one is coming to save him, God is terrible actually, this might as well happen!!

A million candles burning For the love that never came You want it darker We kill the flame

Year Zero: just fun with Satan! 

Belial, Behemoth, Beelzebub Asmodeus, Satanas, Lucifer

Like A Parrot: bird trauma stuff!

Like a parrot and a picture window I can see where I'd like to be But repeated blows to my feathered little head Have taught me not to fly straight.

Think Of Me Once In A While, Take Care: the vibe of when he’s languishing on the chair staring into the fire of a burning vampire

DO YOU DOUBT ME TRAITOR: Lestat the traitor shows up and fucks up his whole thing! And then he has to commit covenicide..

Satan, fortify me! I don't eat, I don't sleep, I don't eat I let it consume me How do I break you, before you break me?

I’m With You: begging Lestat to love him! and feeling utterly abandoned in the world.

Isn't anyone tryin' to find me? Won't somebody come take me home? It's a damn cold night Trying to figure out this life Won't you take me by the hand? Take me somewhere new I don't know who you are But I, I'm with you

Pour Nes Pas Vivre Seule: taking leadership of Théâtre des Vampires

lyrics translated

In order not to live alone,  One lives with a dog One lives with roses Or with a cross. In order not to live alone, One makes cinema One loves a souvenir A shadow, anything…… In order not to live alone, Others have children—  Children who are alone Like all the children.

Thankless Job: I love listening to this and thinking about Armand passive-aggressively cutting off people’s hands and murdering interlopers as leader of the Theatre des Vampires

Harvesting the kidneys for the fall; Savin' up the livers in the fridge No-one ever thanks me when I'm done How self-absorbed people can be!

Blank Space: Loumand budding romance anthem <3

Got a long list of ex-lovers They'll tell you I'm insane But I've got a blank space, baby And I'll write your name

Don’t Leave Me (Ne me quitte pas):

They say, "Sir, do you got a light? And if you do then you're my friend And if you don't then you're my foe And if you are a deity of any sort Then please don't go" Ne me quitte pas, mon cher Ne me quitte pas

Phenom: 

Careful I'm an animal Trap trap trap First of the secondary class class class You know I don't trust you what's the catch catch catch Don't you fucking touch me I will gnash gnash gnash Cause I am an old phenomenon And I am an old phenomenon

Experimental Film: extremely fun to think of him working on writing/directing the trial to this. But in general I feel like this his approach to relationships and life

You're all gonna be in this experimental film And even though I can't explain it, I already know how great it's I already know the ending It's the part that makes your face implode

Paparazzi but specifically the 2009 VMAs performance of it with the blood: generally his one move to start a relationship of any kind. Could specifically be start of devil’s minion tho https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_h6Vc9__kqM&ab_channel=MTV

Pet: here bc of this fanvid, it’s so perfect! https://archiveofourown.org/works/57352849

你快樂所以我快樂 You’re Happy So I’m Happy: This is just the codependent national anthem… I lovingly pin it to armand’s lapel. Loumand, but also every relationship he’s in probably.

Lyrics translated

Your hair was dripping So I became feverish You were feeling tired So I fell asleep Ah.. heaven knows People say, If you're happy, then I'm happy too. Roses are blooming—  What else could I want? Something out of reach, out of reach.

household blender: beware. this is literally just 30 seconds of blender noises. 

Movies: 

Put me in a movie and everyone will know me You'll be the star, you know you are

Seventeen: specifically his relationship to daniel’s + his own age 

I used to be free I used to be seventeen Follow my shadow Around your corner I used to be seventeen Now you're just like me

Eat the Acid: refusing to turn Daniel

you don't wanna be changed like it changed me

All I Want: Devil’s Minion <3

I wanna talk to you, I want to shampoo you I want to renew you again and again Applause, applause, life is our cause When I think of your kisses, my mind see-saws Do you see, do you see, do you see how you hurt me, baby? So I hurt you too

Will Anybody Ever Love Me:

Will anybody ever love me? For good reasons, without grievance Not for sport Will anybody ever love me?  In every season pledge allegiance to my heart

Let X=X: pure vibes

As Good As It Gets:

I want you to disappoint me On and on until we're old I'm inside folding laundry You're outside fixing the hose And I think this is as good as it gets, my love I think this is as good as it gets Pray to God that you think that it is enough

Dirty Computer: love thinking about Armand’s deeply freaky and loving relationship to technology. and feeling broken

Dirty computer, walk in line If you look closer you'll recognize I'm not that special, I'm broke inside Crashing slowly, the bugs are in me

Two Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter songs from SAVED!: for the end of memnoch the devil

(this is the same artist under a different name who sings DO YOU DOUBT ME TRAITOR as lingua ignota.)

Relevant bits from the album notes:

"SAVED! is an apocalyptic revelation on the complex, sometimes ugly, always nonlinear process of healing. Herein, Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter documents an earnest attempt to achieve salvation through the tenets of charismatic Christianity, focusing on the Pentecostal-Holiness Movement, which dictate that one’s closeness to God is demonstrated through transcendental personal experience. Sonically and thematically, the record is both a logical conclusion to and a significant departure from Hayter’s previous work as Lingua Ignota. Mirroring her personal evolution away from pain, she sheds the moniker that made her successful for its unflinching expression of lived trauma and instead builds herself anew, claiming her full given name, determined to see value within [...] To evoke the lonely roads of salvation-seeking, SAVED! is stark, confined mostly to vocals (sometimes overdubbed into a dissonant chorus of twelve simultaneous voices) and piano prepared with bells and chains, the earthly and celestial. Speaking in tongues is achieved by self-imposing a variety of conditions; sleep deprivation, fasting, repetition of prayer, and sensory overstimulation. [...] in its quest for salvation and healing SAVED! is a renunciation of life. Here solace is found in absolute retreat from the world, far from pain and sin, burning with the holy fire until the end comes. And it is written: as you are when the end comes, so will you be when you must face Him. Whether this is enlightenment or insanity is up to the listener to decide. 

ORIGINAL MUSIC AND TRADITIONAL HYMNS PERFORMED BY REVEREND KRISTIN MICHAEL HAYTER OF PERPETUAL FLAME MINISTRIES ON PIANO PREPARED WITH BELLS AND CHAINS.

DOCUMENTED BY BROTHER SETH MANCHESTER AND HIS ALMIGHTY AUDIO RECORDING MACHINE."

I KNOW HIS BLOOD CAN MAKE ME WHOLE:

I know His blood can make me whole I was a gambler just like you I was sick and I couldn’t get well I just touched the hem Just touched the hem of His garment.

HOW CAN I KEEP FROM SINGING:

Through all the tumult and the strife I hear that music ringing It finds an echo through my soul How can I keep from singing? No storm can shake my inmost calm While to that Rock I’m clinging Since Christ is Lord of Heaven and earth How can I keep from singing?

The Apassionata obv

Ever New: Being Alive, full of wonder about Benji and Sybelle

Welcome the spring, the summer rain Softly turned to sing again Welcome the bud, the summer blooming flower Welcome the child whose hand I hold Welcome to you both young and old We are ever new, we are ever new

Hermit the Frog: @ Marius at the end of TVA

Oh, my heart just burst like a glass balloon We let them fly too high and they shattered too soon Are we the wrong damn people in the wrong damn room?

You Left This:

You left this in my chest You left this in my chest  Dark door closing on the rest  You left this in my chest

[celtrist]

Re: https://www.tumblr.com/celtrist/757582206233444352/weird-explanation-about-alastors-bobcut-because

THE BOBCUT

I can only scrape together 3 reasons/excuses for Alastor’s haircut

- covering the sides of his head where human ears used to be because he’s self conscious :,)

- the shape is like a reverse silhouette of his ears: 2 points up, 2 points down. If we count his chin then maybe you go for a crazy conspiracy angle where you overlay a pentagram/satanic goat over his head and the points match up lol “coincidence?! I THINK NOT!!!!” (I don’t agree with this, the mental image is just funny)

- while men didn’t style their hair long in the 20/30s, the slicked back look (and wavy varieties like finger waves etc) did sometimes require (or hide) some length: from the hairline to almost the back of the head at most, held with enough hair product to paralyse a small dog. (Brylcreem/congolene/pomade etc) When you wash that style out, or it comes loose from sweat or rain or falling in a creek, it’s between cheek to chin length around the face. The 20s reverse mullet, party in the front, business in the back. I think there used to be homophobic complaints at the time that women wearing their hair bobbed short and men wearing their hair “long” made (jazz) music halls a DeN oF GaY, claiming they couldn’t tell men and women apart with these hairstyles whilst they were all banging out a charleston or lindy hop or whatever they were doing. I had this hairstyle for over a decade, my dad wouldn’t let me change it, “iTs fRenCh pRoVinCiaL aNd rEminDs mE oF yOur mOthEr” bitch I looked like amelie

The human design for Alastor doesn’t wear his hair like that though, throwing this excuse out a closed window

It’s also what would happen to hair if it was in a ponytail and chopped behind the tie. Either way R.I.P.

Lots of insight! I can still see your last point holding up at least a little bit in the sense that it is more fitting for him to have chin-length hair, or at least grow it out to that point when he got to Hell (he just wanted a fresh look). However, the only "issue" is that: why wouldn't he style his hair? He doesn't really strike me as someone who'd go against gender norms quite honestly. Not out of masculinity, like if he was put into a situation that called for it, I'm sure he'd be fine wearing a dress to some degree (and he'd look good in it. We can all agree he'd look good in it). But more on the prospect that "gentlemen don't do that". I can see him both as someone who would wear a dress and be fine with it, but also someone who would wear a dress and find it demeaning to himself. Obviously Alastor doesn't hold all the old timey values--he wouldn't like Charlie and Vaggie's relationship on them being two woman alone if he did--but I do think he sticks by older etiquette. Like I'm certain he thinks women are capable more than men of his time gave them credit for, but he reads as someone who'd also be like "must take care of the fairer sex, for I am a man and that's what we do". Again, not in a demeaning way he clearly knows women can hold their own. But if a man and a woman got sick, Alastor would tell the man to suck it up and the woman to lay down and rest. That's my personal take though :/

I will admit that I didn't think about the reverse silhouette thing! Nice eyes on that one! Say what you will with Viv's character designs, but they all have fairly strong silhouettes. You see a character with blacked-out details, and you're more than likely able to tell who it is. And maybe that's Viv's design process, she prioritizes a silhouette over tiny designs that could give info about a character. A nice silhouette can ideally still give a bit of info about a character (like how rounder characters are seen as more welcoming) and that's where I do have to mark Viv some points down as when you take two totally opposite characters--Alastor and Angel Dust--they have the same "tall & sharp" that doesn't indicate a difference in who the character might be. There's not a varied shape language in this show, and shape language is very big for character design, especially on the cartoon front! Which, shape language wise a lot of the characters have similar shape language. But I give credit that there IS more (like Charlie is round with her braids, which helps give a more welcoming silhouette. Vaggie is a bit squared with her hair, giving an indication of being strong and stable). I do think for the most part, a lot of them do just come down to being "thin and sharp", but the silhouettes themselves ARE GOOD, I'm not gonna mistake Alastor's silhouette for Angel's. It's just not varied (and for some characters like Husk, it would make since for him to have a more squared portly silhouette compared to the thin twigged silhouette he has. Both because his personality and how his body would look just by what he does: sit around, drink, and gamble. He doesn't seem like a character who would have eating issues, and he doesn't seem active enough to stay as fit as he is).

I digress but yes, the silhouette thing isn't something I thought of, and is a good thought! But he does, as you pointed out, have the pointy chin. It's not parallel to the ears like the bob cut but it would create a triangular layout of his face (ear-to-chin-to-ear). But I can still see it that the bob cus is there for a reverse silhouette thing, even if unneeded.

The ears thing, people have made him with short cuts and he looks fine. Honestly, it's more noticeable when he DOESN'T have short hair since the bob cut moves around, but I get the premise in universe wise. And that's an idea I've seen people mention before. I'm not too sure on it just cuz Alastor was described as a narcissist, so I don't think him lack human ears would get to him that much. ADVERSELY if people like Mimzy kept pointing it out, he more than likely would just want a way to cover it up to get her to shut up about it haha. But I can also see the point of him being sort of "self conscious" about the lack of ears on the side of his head because it's just a reminder that he's taken after a prey animal in Hell. Or even just an animal, he doesn't strike me as the type who'd really like having his features alluding to any sort of animal no matter if it was prey or predator. It being a deer is just salt in the wound at that point.

[sjofn-lofnsdottr]

top 5 primals/bosses?

Now it's time for BOSSES, no primals allowed! I'm going to be kinda vague in spots, as some of them feel like spoilers, but anyone who's current in the MSQ will likely pick up what I'm laying down, while people who haven't fought the bosses I'm talking about will hopefully not piece anything together from it.

I like most boss fights, mind you. But we all know the ones everyone loves. Your Dying Gasps, your Seat of Sacrifices, your Castrum Fulminises, your The Final Days. Those go without saying, so I'm not saying them, although I will say they are loved for a reason, and I love them too. But instead, I'm saying the top five weirder ones I love.

#5: Refurbisher 0: Did you know that's the name of the Eyes of the Creator boss? You do now! I love this fight for a very simple reason: I know how the adds work. I cannot tell you how many times I have popped into an in-progress raid and saved everyone from their wiping hell because I know how to do the adds. I feel so competent! Like a true hero! And so I get way more excited about getting this boss than I probably should.

#4: The Last Boss in the Antitower: I only ever seem to get this dungeon when someone - and sometimes more than one someone! - is running it for the very first time, and without fail, that person watches the final boss' intro and says some variation of 'what in the fuck???' in party chat. Could be a completely silent run up until then, but that sprout is going to have some feelings they need to get out and I love that. Especially since I was once that sprout, asking what the fuck.

#3: Lahabrea, Every Time, But Especially the Last Time: I have loved this dorkus since I switched to the French VAs in ARR. I didn't need the extra shit that made other people love him too, not that I objected to it. But listen. Listen to me. Lahabrea's French voice actor is a goddamn delight. He loves being evil so much. Is he an absolute fucking cartoon every time we fight him? Yes. And his French voice actor knows it, and puts everything he's got into chewing the scenery. I could listen to this man yell French words I do not understand at me for hours and hours (and believe me, I have). And I love how whenever he comes up in conversation with other Ascians, they NEED to dunk on him. Need. He is objectively ridiculous and I love that so much for him.

(By the way, if you never did his new ARR fight that got put in after they revamped Praetorium, it's definitely worth doing once for the experience.)

#2: Greg, Every Time, But Especially the Last Time: I love Gilgamesh, a lot. And I love how goofy his trials are. But I especially enjoy how the last time we fight him (so far???) is also almost always a clusterfuck when it pops up to say hello in trial roulette. I like doing old content that can still trip people up, years and years after it came out, and Greg can still make an entire full party faceplant. I love that for him.

#1: The Voidcast Dais Guy: I don't actually know the general feelings about this dude as a boss, he's probably in the 'goes without saying' category REALLY. But he is another one I fucking love almost entirely because of his French voice actor. Even when he's speaking quietly, he is speaking in All Caps. He lets words roll around in his mouth forever. He is in absolutely no hurry to say them. Do I understand what he's saying? I do not. Well, except when he's yelling MISÉRABLE at me. The actual fight is fun (imo), but I am pretty sure at least 50% of my enjoyment of him as a character and as a boss comes from him YELLING AT ME EN FRANÇAIS.

And because I don't want to spoil nothin', here's Bjalla dropping a meteor on something or other:

Thank you for the ask! <3