#he doesn't even have a chance at being friends

[julietsf1]

Holly Jolly Faking - Franco Colapinto x St.Mleux!Reader

summary: Two people who can’t stand each other agree to fake a relationship to avoid meddling friends and unwanted matchmaking during their Christmas weekend away. What could possibly go wrong? (8k words)

content: fake dating! reader is Alexandra's sister; Franco is COMMITTED;

AN: who doesn't love a good fake dating scenario? happy holidays sweeties!

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Snow crunched beneath your boots as you trudged up the icy path leading to the chalet, Alexandra practically bouncing beside you. She clutched your arm, grinning as if dragging you along to a winter wonderland wasn’t her latest attempt at orchestrating your personal life.

“You’re going to love this,” she insisted, her voice carrying above the stillness of the snowy evening. “I don’t think you’ve ever been to a Friendmas like this one.”

You shot her a look. “Alex, you’ve been talking about this weekend non-stop. I know exactly what to expect.”

She huffed, playfully rolling her eyes. “Yes, but actually being here? It’s magic. Charles did such an amazing job with the tree. You have to see it!”

“Is that before or after you shove me into George’s arms?”

Her cheeks flushed, though whether from the cold or guilt, you couldn’t tell. “Oh, stop it. George is lovely. You could at least give him a chance.”

“Alex,” you said pointedly, pausing to adjust your scarf, “I’m here for you, Charles, and the snow. Not a setup.”

“Fine, fine.” She waved you off, though her mischievous grin lingered as she dragged you forward.

The chalet came into view, its A-frame design illuminated by strings of fairy lights draped over its sloped roof. Smoke curled from the chimney, and warm golden light spilled from the windows, giving it a postcard-perfect charm. It was gorgeous. You hated that Alexandra had been right about it being magical.

The door flew open before you even reached the steps, Charles Leclerc standing there with his signature grin. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and he wore a red sweater that made him look annoyingly festive.

“Finally!” he called out, spreading his arms as if to gather you both into a hug. “We thought you’d gotten lost in the snow.”

“Blame Y/N,” Alexandra said, releasing your arm to greet him. “She moves like a glacier.”

“Only because you packed half your wardrobe in the car,” you shot back, but Charles laughed, pulling you into a brief, warm hug.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N. Welcome to Friendmas!”

“Thanks,” you said, glancing past him into the chalet. Laughter and voices carried from inside, blending with the crackle of a fireplace.

“Come in, come in,” Charles urged, stepping aside. “Everyone’s excited to see you—Lando is even more energetic than usual.”

“Lovely,” you muttered as Alexandra pushed you through the door.

The interior was just as cozy and picturesque as the exterior promised. Pine garlands hung from the rafters, and a massive Christmas tree stood in one corner, decked out with ornaments and twinkling lights. The scent of fresh pine mingled with hints of cinnamon and something buttery, probably cookies.

A chorus of voices greeted you from the living room. Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri were sprawled across the couches, mid-conversation, while Carlos Sainz lounged nearby, sipping from a mug. Max Verstappen, wearing his signature Red Bull polo, leaned against the back of an armchair, holding what I can only suspect is a glühwein in his hands.

“Y/N!” Lando called out, bounding up from the couch like an overexcited puppy. “Finally! We need reinforcements.”

“For what?” you asked, setting your bag down near the stairs.

“To take down Max and Carlos,” Oscar explained, deadpan. “They’ve been dominating every game we’ve played since we got here.”

“It’s not domination,” Carlos corrected, grinning. “It’s skill.”

Max gave a barely perceptible nod of agreement.

“You mean cheating,” Lando muttered, earning a laugh from Oscar.

“Welcome to the madness,” Alexandra said, nudging you forward. “Get comfortable. There’s a lot, but it’s fun.”

“And I’m sure George will be thrilled to see you,” Charles added, his teasing tone making you bristle.

“Where is he?” Alexandra asked, glancing around.

“In the kitchen,” Carlos said. “Probably perfecting the whipped cream on his cocoa or something.”

“I heard that,” George Russell called out, appearing from the kitchen doorway. He carried two steaming mugs, his sweater perfectly fitted and his hair neatly combed, as always.

“Y/N, how wonderful to see you,” George said warmly, handing one mug to Alexandra.

“You too,” you replied, noting the subtle look Alexandra threw you. You shot her a glare in return.

And then, of course, Franco made his entrance.

He leaned against the fireplace, his green eyes glinting with amusement as he surveyed the scene. His tousled hair and casual stance gave him an air of effortless confidence, which only annoyed you further.

“Y/N,” Franco’s voice broke through the chatter, his tone slow and laced with mockery. “What a surprise. I didn’t think you’d make it. Busy schedule of glaring at people, I’m sure.”

“Franco,” you replied, deadpan, without so much as a glance in his direction.

The others continued their conversations, seemingly oblivious to the exchange, but Franco stepped closer, his smirk growing like he could sense your irritation.

“Still radiating warmth and goodwill, I see,” he quipped, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“Still trying way too hard to be funny,” you shot back, finally turning to face him.

His grin widened. “Oh, come on. I’m hilarious, and you know it. People have been laughing all evening.”

“At you, maybe,” you replied smoothly.

The retort earned the faintest snicker from Lando in the background, but Franco remained unfazed. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if to keep the exchange just between you. “I’ve missed this, you know. You keeping me in check. Someone has to, I suppose.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you replied, your tone cutting. “Keeping you in check would imply you’re worth the effort.”

His smirk grew as he straightened, undeterred. “You’re quick today. Must be all that Christmas cheer getting to you.”

“Must be,” you deadpanned, narrowing your eyes.

For a moment, you stared each other down, his grin still annoyingly present as your pulse quickened in frustration. The way he looked at you, like he knew exactly how to push your buttons, made your skin prickle.

“Anything else, Franco?” you asked, your tone clipped.

“Not yet,” he replied smoothly. “But don’t go too far. I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

With a final smirk, he leaned back against the counter, casually reaching for a glass like the conversation hadn’t just left you fuming. You turned back to the others, but the weight of his gaze lingered, prickling at the edge of your awareness.

…

The dining room buzzed with warmth and chatter, the glow of candles reflecting off plates piled high with roasted chicken, potatoes, and vegetables. Alexandra had gone all out, decorating the table with garlands of pine and gold-rimmed glasses, while Charles played the perfect host, ensuring everyone’s wine was topped off.

You were trying your best to enjoy the evening, but sitting between George and Franco wasn’t making that easy.

George, ever the gentleman, was pleasant enough, keeping the conversation light. He asked about your travels and your work, always attentive and polite, and while you appreciated his effort, the attention made you squirm. Alexandra, of course, wasn’t helping.

“So, Y/N,” Alexandra began, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “Isn’t it nice to have someone else here who knows Monaco as well as you do?”

You resisted the urge to sigh. “Sure, Alex. It’s always nice.”

George, ever gracious, smiled at you. “It’s been a while since I’ve spent a proper holiday there. There’s something special about it in the winter, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, forcing a polite smile of your own. “The harbor looks magical with all the lights.”

Alexandra pounced on your response like a cat with a mouse. “Exactly! George, doesn’t that sound like the perfect setting for a romantic evening?”

“Alex,” you warned, your voice laced with both amusement and irritation.

“What?” she asked innocently, though the twinkle in her eye gave her away. “I’m just saying. You two have so much in common. You could plan a trip back together!”

Your face burned, and you quickly took a sip of your wine to hide your discomfort. “I think George has plenty of plans that don’t involve me tagging along,” you said lightly.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind,” George said, his smile kind. “I reckon it would be nice to have someone to share the nostalgia with.”

Your smile wavered as you searched for a way to steer the conversation elsewhere, but Alexandra was relentless.

“See? It’s perfect!” she declared. “I mean, what are the chances? It’s practically fate.”

Your grip on your fork tightened. “I think that’s a bit of a stretch, Alex.”

Charles, ever the romantic, sighed wistfully. “Love often comes when you least expect it. Imagine walking along the harbor together, the lights reflecting on the water…”

You groaned, though you couldn’t help but laugh. “Why are we discussing this at the dinner table, guys?”

“Because it’s fun,” Lando chimed in, grinning. “So tell me, do you like horses? I know George adores posh shit like Polo.”

Your laughter faltered, your cheeks flushing as all eyes turned to you. The attention felt suffocating, and you fumbled for a response.

“Lando, that’s enough,” you said, your tone more strained than you intended.

“Oh, come on,” Alexandra added, her smile too wide. “You and George would make such a good match. It’s about time you found someone who—”

Franco coughed loudly, the deliberate sound slicing through the chatter. Everyone turned to him, their laughter and conversation abruptly halting. He leaned back in his chair, his green eyes glinting with mischief as he set his wineglass down with theatrical precision.

“She’s with me, actually,” Franco said casually, his voice ringing with the kind of confidence that demanded attention.

The silence that followed was deafening.

You froze, your fork clattering against your plate as your brain scrambled to make sense of what he’d just said. The warmth of the room seemed to vanish, replaced by a prickling heat crawling up your neck.

“What?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely audible.

Franco didn’t so much as flinch. He shifted slightly in his chair, and before you could react, he reached over, sliding his hand over yours where it rested on the table. His touch was warm, his grip firm but not forceful. You stared at him, wide-eyed, as his smirk widened.

“You heard me,” he said, his tone maddeningly smooth. “I couldn’t keep it a secret any longer.”

Alexandra’s jaw dropped, her wide-eyed gaze darting between the two of you. “You’re joking,” she said flatly.

“Not at all,” Franco replied, looking entirely unbothered. His fingers drummed lightly against the back of your hand, a silent challenge. “Isn’t that right, sugarplum?”

The word hung in the air like a ticking bomb. Your pulse thundered in your ears as every pair of eyes at the table turned to you.

Your throat felt dry, and your voice cracked when you finally managed to speak. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Oscar was the first to break. His laughter erupted like a tidal wave, loud and uncontrollable, as he nearly fell back in his chair. He clutched his stomach, tears streaming down his cheeks. “This… is… the best thing… I’ve ever heard!” he wheezed, struggling to catch his breath.

Lando wasn’t far behind, his wide grin splitting into a delighted laugh. “No way. You two?!”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” George said, his tone laced with disbelief.

Charles, however, looked positively enchanted. He leaned forward, his hands clasped together like a starstruck poet. “Love and hate are two sides of the same coin,” he declared, his eyes practically sparkling.

Carlos chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, this is a twist.”

Max leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a skeptical look. “Ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, though the faint twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement.

Alexandra, however, wasn’t so easily convinced. She narrowed her eyes at you, her brows knitting together in confusion. “But… when? How? You’ve barely even mentioned Franco to me.”

“It has been a whirlwind,” Franco interjected smoothly, shooting you a sidelong glance. “Right, my little lovebug?”

You glared at him, your jaw clenched as you fought the urge to strangle him on the spot. “Uh, yeah. Something like that,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Fascinating,” Alexandra said, still clearly unconvinced.

“Tell us everything!” Lando demanded, leaning forward like a gossip-hungry child. “When did this start? Was it one of those dramatic, enemies-to-lovers things? Did you secretly kiss during a race weekend?”

“Lando,” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended.

He leaned back, unbothered, and waved you off. “Fine, fine. Keep your secrets.”

“You’re full of surprises, Y/N,” George said, his expression hovering somewhere between confusion and polite disappointment.

“Trust me, George,” you muttered, unable to meet his eyes. “I was just as surprised as you are.”

The teasing and laughter continued, the group trading increasingly wild theories about your so-called relationship. Meanwhile, Franco seemed to bask in the chaos he’d created, his smirk never wavering as he leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself.

Under the table, his knee brushed yours, and you shot him a death glare. “What the hell are you doing?” you hissed under your breath.

“Saving you,” he replied quietly, his tone annoyingly casual.

“By making my life worse?”

He leaned closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Oh, come on. You’d rather sit through more matchmaking from Alexandra?”

You couldn’t argue with that, but it didn’t make you any less furious.

As the group began to move on, shifting the conversation back to other topics, you slumped slightly in your chair, exhausted from the ordeal.

This was going to be a very, very long weekend.

…

The morning sun streamed into the chalet’s large windows, gilding the room in gold. You stirred your coffee slowly, staring out at the snow-covered peaks in the distance. Peace and quiet were rare in a house full of such chaotic personalities, but you’d stolen this moment for yourself.

Or so you thought.

“Morning, sugarplum.”

The sound of Franco’s voice made you visibly tense. You didn’t need to look to know he was leaning against the doorframe, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You’re really committed to that name, aren’t you?” you asked flatly, turning just enough to shoot him a withering look.

“Would you prefer ‘honeybun’?” he replied smoothly, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Or maybe ‘snugglebear’? I’m flexible.”

“How about you don’t call me anything?”

“Not very girlfriend-like of you, sweetheart,” he teased, taking a sip of his coffee and leaning casually against the counter. “People might start to doubt us.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose, already feeling your patience wearing thin. “If anyone doubts us, it’s because you’re about as subtle as a flashing neon sign.”

Franco grinned. “What can I say? I’m commited.”

Before you could retort, Lando appeared, sliding into the kitchen with his usual chaotic energy. “What’s this?” he asked, his grin widening as his eyes flicked between you and Franco. “Secret lovebird meeting?”

“We’re not—” you began, but Franco cut you off, slinging an arm around your shoulders with infuriating ease.

“Just waking up my muffin,” he said smoothly.

“Muffin?” Lando repeated, his eyebrows shooting up.

“She’s sweet like one,” Franco explained, giving you a squeeze that you immediately wriggled out of.

Lando barked out a laugh, grabbing an apple from the counter. “You two are ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head as he left the kitchen.

As soon as he was gone, you turned to Franco with a scowl. “What the hell have you gotten me into.”

“Relax, cupcake,” he said, smirking. “Although I am loving seeing you worked up like this.”

You crossed your arms tightly, your glare unwavering. “You could’ve warned me before throwing me into this mess.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he quipped, his voice maddeningly light. “You’re quick on your feet; I figured you’d keep up.”

Your frustration bubbled over, and you took a step closer, pointing at him. “This is not fun, Franco. This is me playing along so you don’t make it worse.”

“Relax, cupcake,” he said, smirking again. “You’ll get used to it. And honestly? You’re kind of good at it.”

You threw your hands up, exasperated. “Stop calling me that! This isn’t a game.”

His grin only widened, but there was a flicker of something softer in his gaze as he said, “It’s not a game, but it is very entertaining. Trust me, you’ll survive.”

Your jaw tightened, and you turned away, trying to steady yourself. “If you call me ‘cupcake’ one more time, I swear—”

“Duly noted,” he interrupted, his voice filled with amusement.

You huffed, grabbing the spoon and stirring your coffee again, trying to focus on anything but the smug grin you could still feel behind you.

...

Later that afternoon, you found yourself elbow-deep in a bowl of icing, surrounded by flour-dusted countertops and trays of freshly baked cookies. The group had decided on a cookie-decorating contest, and Alexandra had enlisted everyone with the enthusiasm of a drill sergeant.

“You’re going down,” Lando declared, grabbing a piping bag.

“Not likely,” Max replied, his expression as stoic as ever, though his hands worked with surprising precision.

You were concentrating on spreading icing over a snowman-shaped cookie when Franco appeared at your side.

“Need help, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice dripping with false sincerity.

“No,” you replied sharply, but he was already grabbing a piping bag and leaning into your space.

“You missed a spot,” he said, his grin widening as he leaned even closer.

Before you could react, he dipped a finger into a bowl of icing and held it up to your mouth.

“Say ahh,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Franco,” you hissed, your cheeks burning as the others turned to watch.

“Come on, sugarplum,” he said. “You’ve got to taste test your work.”

Gritting your teeth, you opened your mouth just enough to swipe the icing off his finger with a quick flick of your tongue. The room erupted into a mix of laughter and groans.

“That’s disgusting,” Lando said, though he was clearly enjoying the chaos.

“Get a room,” Max muttered, though his lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile.

You glared at Franco, but his smirk only grew. Grabbing the nearest piping bag, you squeezed a glob of icing onto your fingers and smeared it across his cheek.

“There,” you said sweetly. “You missed a spot.”

The table roared with laughter, and Franco’s grin never faltered as he wiped the icing off with a napkin. “You’re feisty today, snugglebear.”

“Stop calling me that,” you snapped, though there was a faint twinkle of amusement in your eyes.

Alexandra, who was trying to keep the peace, clapped her hands together. “No arguing please. This is supposed to be festive!”

“Don’t worry,” Franco said, his voice smooth as ever. “We’re perfectly fine. Right, sweetheart?”

You didn’t dignify him with a response, instead turning your attention back to your cookies.

“Don’t be shy, sugarplum,” Franco added, leaning closer. “Tell them how much you love me.”

“I hate you,” you muttered under your breath.

“Love you too, honeybear.”

…

By the time the chaos of the afternoon subsided, you were desperate for solitude. The chalet’s constant buzz of laughter and chatter had become too much, so you slipped away, finding refuge in the small, cozy study near the back of the house.

The fire crackled softly in the corner, casting a warm glow over the room. You curled up in one of the oversized armchairs, a cup of hot chocolate warming your hands as you tried to collect your thoughts.

The peace didn’t last long.

The door creaked open, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Found you, sugarplum,” Franco’s infuriatingly smug voice broke the silence.

You groaned, not turning around. “Go away, Franco.”

“And miss this little brooding session? Not a chance,” he said, closing the door behind him.

You heard his footsteps cross the room, and within moments, he was perched on the armrest of your chair, his presence looming far too close for comfort.

“What do you want?” you snapped, finally looking up at him.

“To check on my darling girlfriend,” he replied smoothly, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “You seemed a little… tense earlier.”

“I wonder why,” you said dryly, taking a sip of your cocoa.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, feigning thoughtfulness. “Is it because your sister is practically shoving you at George every five seconds? Good thing I swooped in to save you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You didn’t save me. You made it worse.”

“Worse?” he repeated, mock-offended. “I saved you from months of awkward George politeness and Alexandra’s relentless matchmaking. You should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you?” you repeated, incredulous. “For turning my life into a circus?”

Franco smirked, leaning closer. “You’ve got to admit, it’s entertaining.”

You glared at him. “For who? You?”

“For everyone,” he said, laughing softly. “But mostly me.”

Your grip tightened on your mug, your patience hanging by a thread. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet, here I am,” he said, grinning. “Your knight in shining armor.”

You snorted. “More like the villain in a rom-com.”

“Rom-com?” he mused. “I like that. Does that make you the quirky lead who doesn’t realize she’s in love with me until the final act?”

“I hate you,” you muttered, though the corners of your mouth betrayed you with the faintest twitch.

“No, you don’t,” he said lightly, leaning back as if he had all the time in the world.

The fire popped loudly, filling the silence that followed. For a brief moment, his teasing smirk softened, his green eyes flickering with something unreadable.

You shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling too exposed. “Why are you really here, Franco?”

He tilted his head, his smirk returning, but a subtle hint of sincerity was now present in his voice. “Just checking in. Making sure my favorite sugarplum isn’t plotting my demise.”

“I’m always plotting your demise,” you said flatly.

“Good to know,” he said, standing but lingering by your side. For once, his smirk faded, replaced by something softer. “But seriously… take it easy, okay?” He paused, his voice dropping slightly. “I’ll make sure tomorrow isn’t so bad.”

He was halfway to the door when it swung open again, revealing Lando, grinning like he’d just stumbled upon a jackpot.

“What’s this? Private lovebird time?” he asked, stepping into the room without waiting for an invitation.

“Oh, absolutely,” Franco said, his grin widening. “She couldn’t keep away.”

You groaned, setting your cocoa down. “Lando, please.”

He ignored you, leaning casually against the doorframe. “So, Franco, what’s tomorrow’s nickname? Angelcake? Lovebug?”

“Love nugget,” Franco replied instantly, his smirk smug as ever.

Lando cackled, nearly doubling over. “Love nugget! Oh, this just keeps getting better.”

You buried your face in your hands with a groan. “You’re all insufferable.”

“No, no,” Franco corrected, his grin widening. “I’m the insufferable one. They’re just my audience.”

“Exactly,” Lando chimed in, still laughing. “We’re just here for the show.”

Franco clapped him on the shoulder as he left the room. “Come on. Let’s leave my little honey bunny to her brooding.”

You threw a pillow at them as they walked out, but your aim was off, and their laughter echoed down the hall.

…

The living room buzzed with laughter and chatter, the fire crackling warmly in the hearth as snow fell softly outside. Lando stood at the center of the room, waving a bowl filled with folded slips of paper.

“All right, people!” he declared, his grin as wide as ever. “Time for charades! Teams have been pre-assigned by yours truly, so no arguing.”

“Lando, what did you do?” Carlos asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Created the perfect teams, duh,” Lando replied smugly. “Here we go. Team one: Alex and Charles. Team two: George and Oscar. Team three: Max and Carlos. And finally… Franco and Y/N!”

You groaned audibly, shooting Lando a glare. “Seriously?”

He smirked. “You’re welcome.”

Franco leaned closer, his green eyes sparkling with amusement. “Look at that, sugarplum. Fate wants us to win.”

“How wonderful,” you muttered under your breath.

“Okay, everyone knows the rules,” Lando continued, ignoring the tension between you and Franco. “No talking, sound effects are allowed, but only one person on the team acts at a time. And remember, you’ve got thirty seconds per round. Got it?”

Everyone nodded, settling into their seats as Lando pulled the first slip from the bowl.

The first few rounds were as chaotic as expected. Alex’s exaggerated gestures left Charles laughing too hard to guess, and George and Oscar worked surprisingly well together, securing a few easy points. Max and Carlos turned every clue into a competitive showdown, each accusing the other of overcomplicating things.

By the time it was your team’s turn, the energy in the room was electric, and the scoreboard showed a tight race between George and Oscar’s team and Max and Carlos’s.

“Franco, you’re up!” Lando announced, handing him a slip of paper.

Franco unfolded it, his smirk growing as he read the word. Without a word, he turned to you and held out his hand.

“Come here,” he said simply.

You narrowed your eyes, immediately suspicious. “Why?”

“Just trust me,” he replied, his tone smooth as ever.

Reluctantly, you stepped forward, and he wasted no time pulling you into the center of the room.

“Franco, what are you doing?” you hissed, but he ignored you.

The room fell silent as everyone watched him intently. Without warning, he placed one hand firmly on your back and clasped your other hand in his.

“Wait—”

Before you could protest, he spun you out dramatically, then pulled you back in, his movements fluid and precise.

“Is this—”

“Shh,” he whispered.

Your heart stumbled in your chest as he led you through an impromptu tango, his grip firm but surprisingly gentle, his hand steady on your back as his green eyes locked with yours.

The room erupted in cheers and laughter, but all you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat, loud and insistent in your ears.

You barely had time to register what was happening before he spun you out dramatically, then pulled you back in for a final dip.

“Guess the word, sugarplum,” Franco whispered, his voice low and teasing.

Your brain refused to cooperate. You opened your mouth, but no words came out as your heart pounded in your chest as you stared up at him, completely flustered..

“Uh…”

“Time’s up!” Lando shouted, his laughter ringing above the chaos. “The word was ‘tango!’”

“Oh, come on,” Franco groaned, straightening up and releasing you. “She had one job.”

“I—” You struggled to form a coherent sentence, still reeling from the unexpected intensity of the moment.

“She was too flustered,” Oscar said with a grin. “Can’t blame her for that.”

“You call that acting out?” Max asked, raising an eyebrow. “That was more like showing off.”

“Showing off or not,” Charles interjected, his eyes alight with romantic fervor, “it was beautiful. Truly.”

Carlos clapped Franco on the back. “Points for commitment.”

Lando was practically in tears, clutching his stomach as he laughed. “Please, we should do Friendmas more often! You guys are killing me.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at Franco. “Was that really necessary?”

“I wasn’t trying to win,” Franco said casually, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Just wanted to make it memorable.”

The laughter and teasing in the living room still rang in your ears as you slipped away into the quiet of the kitchen. The glow of the firelight from the other room faded behind you, replaced by the soft hum of the under-cabinet lights. Snow fell steadily outside the large window, each flake illuminated by the warm outdoor lanterns.

Leaning against the counter, you cradled a glass of water in your hands. The coolness seeped through your fingers, grounding you, though it did little to steady the erratic beat of your heart. The tango performance replayed in your mind—Franco’s confident hold, the sharp dip, and the way his gaze lingered on yours a moment too long.

“Y/N?”

The familiar voice made you turn, startled. George stood in the doorway, his posture upright, his expression thoughtful but tinged with hesitation.

“George,” you said, offering a small smile. “Everything all right?”

He stepped inside, his shoes tapping softly against the polished wood floor. “I was about to ask you the same. You seemed, well, rather unsettled during charades. I wanted to make sure you’re… alright.”

You laughed softly, trying to deflect. “Just overwhelmed, I guess. All the attention gets a bit much sometimes.”

George raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. He moved a little closer, his hands sliding into the pockets of his trousers with an air of casual elegance. “May I speak frankly?”

“Of course,” you replied, though a sinking feeling began to settle in your chest.

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze fixed on you, his words carefully measured. “Are you and Franco actually serious?”

The question hit harder than you expected.

George continued, his voice soft but deliberate. “It’s just… unexpected. I didn’t think he was, er, your sort of man. But if he makes you happy, that’s what matters. I merely—” He paused, his eyes searching yours. “I’d hate to think you’re settling for anything less than what you deserve.”

Your throat tightened. The sincerity in his tone was disarming, and the lie you’d been weaving all weekend felt heavier than ever.

“I—” You faltered, words failing you.

The door swung open, cutting through the tension like a knife.

Franco stepped inside, his presence filling the room instantly. His gaze flicked between you and George, his green eyes sharp but unreadable. His usual smirk was tempered, his expression calm but watchful.

“Hi there,” Franco said, his voice light but laced with a quiet edge. “Am I interrupting something?”

George turned slightly, his shoulders still relaxed but his tone more clipped. “Not at all. Y/N and I were just having a chat.”

Franco’s eyes lingered on you, and without a word, he stepped closer, his hand sliding to rest gently on your waist. The touch was subtle but deliberate, his fingers warm against the fabric of your sweater.

“Well, don’t let me stop you,” Franco said, his smirk returning faintly. “But don’t keep her too long. I might start missing her.”

George’s brow twitched, his eyes flicking briefly to Franco’s hand before returning to yours. “Right,” he said after a moment, his voice still measured. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then.” He hesitated, his gaze softening as it lingered on you. “Do let me know if you need anything, Y/N.”

“Thank you, George,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended.

He nodded once before stepping out, the door closing softly behind him.

The room fell silent, save for the faint crackle of the fire in the distance. Franco didn’t move, his hand still resting firmly on your waist.

“You okay?” he asked finally, his voice quieter than you expected.

You nodded quickly. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

His lips twitched, a faint smirk threatening to appear, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” you replied, though the slight shake in your voice betrayed you.

He tilted his head, his gaze fixed on yours. “Because you disappeared pretty quickly after the game.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he continued before you could.

“I came to check on you,” he said, his tone casual but deliberate. “Can’t say I’m surprised though that George went to find you first.”

Your brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”

Franco shifted slightly, his thumb brushing subtly against your waist in a way that sent an unexpected jolt through you. “He clearly wanted to test the water,” he said, his voice low, almost conversational. “Cornering you in here like that. Asking questions he knows might throw you off.”

“Sure, sweet George had sneaky intentions,” you said, though a soft laugh escaped you.

“For sure,” Franco insisted, the faintest flicker of irritation crossing his features. “He’s too polite to make it obvious, but trust me, he knows what he’s doing.”

You couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not,” Franco replied, the smirk returning. His thumb moved again, a slow, absent stroke against your side as he spoke. “He’s clever enough to know when to push without it looking like he’s pushing.”

“And you think that’s what he was doing?”

“Even is he wasn't,” Franco said, meeting your gaze squarely. For a moment, his usual bravado was replaced by something more sincere, more grounded. “I just wanted to make sure he knows you’re mine.”

Your breath caught, the words hanging in the air between you like a delicate thread.

He must have noticed the way your expression shifted because he chuckled softly, his smirk softening. “You know, for now. Until this whole thing is over and you can go back to being everyone’s favorite single lady.”

You rolled your eyes, though your heart was pounding. “Oh, how noble of you.”

“Very noble,” he said, his tone teasing again. “It’s hard work being such a convincing fake boyfriend.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible?” he repeated, his smirk deepening. “Or exactly what you need?”

The moment stretched, his hand still resting on your waist, his touch grounding and unnervingly warm. For a split second, it felt like the world outside the kitchen had disappeared, leaving only the two of you in this small, quiet space.

“You know,” you said quietly, barely meeting his gaze, “Alexandra’s matchmaking ideas don’t exactly… line up with what I want. So you don’t have to worry about that.”

Franco’s brow lifted slightly, but the faintest smirk tugged at his lips. “Good to know.”

He cleared his throat, stepping back just enough to give you some space but not enough to completely break the connection. “Come on, sugarplum. We should get back before Lando starts a search party.”

“Right,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended.

He gestured for you to lead the way, his hand lingering just long enough to make your skin tingle before he finally let it fall.

As you stepped back into the chaos of the living room, you couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of your eye. The smirk was back, his confident demeanor firmly in place, but something about the way he’d spoken lingered in your mind.

…

The lake glistened under the pale winter sun, the ice reflecting the snowy peaks surrounding it. The group was a riot of scarves, gloves, and thick jackets, their breath visible in the crisp, cold air.

“Right, bets are open!” Lando declared, pulling his gloves tighter. “Charles versus Carlos: who’s wiping out first?”

“Carlos,” Max said flatly, tightening his own skates.

“I’m offended,” Carlos shot back, puffing his chest dramatically.

“I’ll take that action,” Oscar quipped, producing a crumpled bill from his pocket.

Meanwhile, Franco stood next to you, his hands tucked casually in his coat pockets as he watched the scene unfold with a grin. “Think you’ll make it through without falling, pudding pie?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Think you can go a full hour without making a comment like that?”

“Nope,” he replied, his grin widening.

Charles and Carlos were already on the ice, their playful bickering carrying across the frozen expanse as they started an impromptu race. Charles was fast but clumsy, slipping every few strides, while Carlos cackled loudly, skating circles around him.

Lando and Max, true to form, took their positions at the sidelines to heckle and place more bets.

You laced your skates carefully, trying to ignore the fact that Franco’s gaze was on you the entire time.

“Ready?” he asked as you stood, wobbling slightly.

“Don’t laugh,” you warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, though the smirk playing at the corners of his lips said otherwise.

The ice stretched out before you, gleaming under the pale winter sun like a vast, treacherous mirror. Each step felt like a gamble, your skates threatening to slip out from under you at any moment. Franco skated backward effortlessly in front of you, his movements smooth and confident, as if he’d been born to glide.

“You look like a baby deer,” he teased, his green eyes alight with amusement.

You shot him a glare, your arms flailing slightly as you tried to regain your balance. “Thanks for the support.”

“Relax,” he said, skating closer. His hands reached out instinctively, steadying you with a touch that was firmer than necessary but far from unwelcome. “You’re doing fine.”

“I don’t need your help,” you muttered, though you made no move to pull your hand away as he laced his fingers with yours.

He smirked, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles in a way that sent a small jolt of warmth through you. “Sure you don’t.”

Behind you, Lando’s voice rang out, cutting through the stillness of the lake.

“Max is going down! I can feel it!”

Max, ever unbothered, glided past with surprising ease. “You’re the one who’s going down, Lando,” he retorted without looking back.

Franco chuckled softly, his gaze flicking briefly toward the chaos around you before returning to your face. “You’re lucky I’m not like them.”

“What, loud and extremely present?” you quipped, your lips twitching in the beginnings of a smile.

“Exactly,” he replied, his grin widening.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the way your shoulders relaxed slightly under his steadying touch.

Taking a deep breath, you let go of his hand, feeling a surge of confidence as you took a tentative step on your own.

The sudden scrape of blades against ice drew your attention to George as he skated up beside you, his posture impossibly straight, his movements smooth and deliberate.

“Need a hand?” he asked, his tone warm and polite, as always.

You glanced at him, your heart sinking slightly at the hopeful look in his blue eyes. His hand hovered just in front of yours, an offer you knew he thought you might take.

“That’s sweet of you, George,” you said gently, forcing a small smile. “But I think Franco’s got it.”

His hand lowered slightly, and his expression shifted, though he recovered quickly.

Before the silence could stretch too far, you turned back to Franco, raising your free hand toward him. “Hold my hand again?”

Franco raised a brow, clearly surprised by the request, but he didn’t hesitate. His hand slid easily into yours, his grip firm and steady as he pulled you closer. “Anything for you, sugarplum.”

The words, playful as they were, carried a softness that hadn’t been there before, and for a moment, you forgot about the chill in the air.

George hesitated briefly, his gaze flicking between you and Franco, before nodding once. “All right then,” he said, his tone polite but slightly clipped. “I’ll let you two be.”

He skated ahead with a precision that seemed a little too deliberate, his back straight and his strides measured.

Franco watched him go, his lips twitching in the beginnings of a smirk. “Smooth,” he murmured, turning his attention back to you.

“Don’t start,” you said quickly, though the warmth of his hand made it impossible to sound annoyed.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough for only you to hear. “You could’ve let him help, you know.”

“I didn’t want his help,” you replied, your gaze fixed on the ice in front of you.

“No?” Franco’s smirk deepened, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again in a motion so casual it felt intentional. “Guess I’m doing something right then.”

You didn’t respond, though your cheeks burned under his gaze. Instead, you focused on moving forward, your steps growing more confident with his hand in yours.

Around you, the chaos of the group continued unabated—Carlos yelling at Charles for cutting him off during their makeshift race, Lando shrieking as Max lunged at him with outstretched arms, and Oscar laughing so hard he nearly fell over.

But for a brief moment, it all faded into the background, leaving only the sound of your blades against the ice and the warmth of Franco’s hand in yours.

…

The chalet buzzed with noise and laughter as we stumbled back inside from the frozen lake. The warmth from the roaring fire hit me like a wave, thawing my frozen fingers and toes. Everyone was shedding layers—scarves, coats, gloves—creating a chaotic pile near the doorway.

“I had him!” Charles was practically shouting, his voice thick with indignation as he gestured wildly at Carlos. “He tripped me on purpose!”

Carlos, leaning casually against the back of a chair, raised a brow and smirked. “I didn’t trip you, mate. You tripped yourself.”

“Oh, sure,” Charles shot back, throwing his gloves down dramatically. “You just happened to be in my way.”

“Can someone trip him again? I need a replay,” Lando quipped, flopping onto the armrest of the couch with all the grace of a cat falling off a ledge.

“You’re all terrible,” Charles muttered, though the corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement.

“You know what’s really terrible?” Max cut in, pointing a finger at Lando. “Lando’s skating. I’ve seen toddlers with more grace.”

“Excuse me!” Lando sat up, mock-offended. “Who got you to fall, hmm? Oh, right—it was me. Call it strategy.”

“It was chaos,” Oscar said, sipping his tea as he perched on the edge of the couch. “Pure chaos.”

“Chaos,” Alexandra chimed in, walking past me as she unwound her scarf, “is you all trying to one-up each other like you’re in some kind of Winter Olympics tryout.”

“Alexandra, be honest,” Carlos said, leaning toward her. “Who was better—me or Charles?”

She pretended to consider it for a moment before shrugging. “Neither. You were both disasters in your own way.”

I snorted, pulling off my gloves and tucking them into my coat pocket. “She’s not wrong.”

Max turned his gaze to me, smirking. “Speaking of disasters, I saw you almost fall twice.”

“Almost being the key word,” I shot back, narrowing my eyes at him.

“You only survived because of him,” Max said, jerking his chin toward Franco, who was currently leaning against the fireplace like he had all the time in the world.

“Is that true?” Alexandra asked, her eyes flicking between Franco and me.

“Absolutely,” Franco said, his grin lazy as he met my gaze. “Graceful as ever, aren’t you, sugarplum?”

The group burst into laughter, and I felt my cheeks heat. I rolled my eyes, grabbing the hem of my sweater and pretending to brush off invisible dust. “I’m going to make hot chocolate. At least that won’t involve falling on my face.”

The kitchen was warm and quiet, a perfect escape from the chaos of the living room. I stirred the bubbling cocoa on the stove, letting the rhythmic motion calm me as the faint hum of voices filtered through the walls.

The door creaked open, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Franco stepping inside. His hair was still tousled from the cold, and his green eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and something softer.

“Couldn’t resist joining me, huh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, someone had to check on the quality control of this hot chocolate,” he quipped, leaning casually against the counter.

I snorted, turning back to the pot. “As if you’re qualified to judge.”

He grinned, pushing off the counter and taking a step closer. “Bold words for someone who didn’t even add marshmallows.”

“They’re coming,” I shot back.

“Sure they are,” he said, his voice teasing but light.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. I focused on the cocoa, feeling his eyes on me. When I glanced at him again, he was fidgeting slightly, his hands shifting in his pockets.

“What’s up?” I asked, my brow furrowing.

He hesitated before pulling a small, slightly crumpled package from his pocket. “I wanted to give you something,” he said, his voice quieter now.

That caught me off guard. “You? Giving me something?”

“Yeah,” he said, pulling out a small package wrapped in slightly crumpled paper. He set it on the counter between us, his movements slower than usual.

“You’re serious?” I asked, eyeing the little package, still in shock.

“It’s nothing big,” he said grinning shyly. “I just… wanted to give you this before the whole Secret Santa circus starts later.”

I stared at the package, my curiosity piqued. “You’re not my Secret Santa.”

“Nope,” he said, popping the “p” as he placed the package on the counter between us. “I’m just really bad at following the rules.”

I looked at the package, then back at him. “Is this going to explode?”

“No, it’s not going to explode,” he said, his grin softening into something almost sheepish. “Just open it.”

I stared at the package for a moment before taking it, the weight of his gaze making my chest tighten. Carefully, I peeled back the wrapping, revealing a delicate gold bracelet with a tiny heart-shaped charm.

I turned it over, my breath catching when I saw the engraving on the back: Sugarplum.

“Franco…” I trailed off, brushing my thumb over the charm.

“It’s just a silly thing, got it in town this morning,” he said quickly, his words tumbling over each other. “For when this weekend’s over and you’ll start missing my nicknames. Or, you know, to apologize for dragging you into this whole fake-dating mess in the first place.”

“I don’t mind as much as I thought I would,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

He glanced at me, his green eyes flickering with something I couldn’t quite place. “Still. I thought it might be nice to have… a funny memory. Or whatever.”

I slipped the bracelet onto my wrist, the charm resting lightly against my skin. It fit perfectly, as though it had always belonged there.

The bracelet’s charm glinted softly in the light as it settled against my wrist, the chain fitting perfectly. I turned it over once more, running my thumb across the tiny engraving.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” I said, glancing up at him.

Franco shrugged, leaning back slightly against the counter. “I know. But… I wanted to. It felt right.”

I raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Right?”

“Okay, maybe ‘right’ is overselling it,” he admitted, his grin faint and a little sheepish. “But I figured, if we’re doing this whole fake-dating thing, we might as well have something to laugh about later. You know, when we’re telling everyone how much we hated it.”

His words were light, but something about the way he said them made my chest tighten. “I don’t really hate it,” I said quietly.

He blinked, his grin faltering. “No?”

I shook my head, the bracelet shifting slightly as I let my arms fall to my sides. “It’s been… weird. Definitely not what I expected, but not all bad.”

“Not all bad,” he repeated, his tone teasing but softer.

“Yeah,” I said, shrugging a little. “I guess I’ve gotten… used to you.”

He tilted his head, his green eyes narrowing slightly. “Used to me? Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Take it however you want,” I said, fighting back a smile.

“Noted,” he said, his lips curving into something closer to his usual smirk. “I’ll put it right up there with, ‘Franco, you’re annoying, but tolerable.’”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “Don’t push it.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You know,” he said after a moment, his voice dropping slightly, “it hasn’t been all bad for me either. I mean, you’ve got your moments.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Moments?”

“Yeah,” he said, his grin softening. “Like when you aren’t rolling your eyes at me or threatening to throw something. Those are nice.”

I rolled my eyes instinctively, but the warmth in his gaze made my stomach flip. “Oh shut up,” I muttered, though there was no real heat in my voice.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us shifted, growing heavier, and I felt the distance between us shrink even though neither of us moved.

“You’re going to keep calling me Sugarplum, aren’t you?” I asked finally, breaking the silence.

“Oh, absolutely,” he said, his grin returning. “You’re stuck with it now.”

The room felt smaller suddenly, the warmth from the stove and the weight of his gaze wrapping around me like a blanket. My heart pounded as the silence stretched, the unspoken words hanging between us growing louder with every passing second.

“Franco,” I began, not even sure what I was going to say.

His eyes searched mine, his lips parting slightly, as though he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

Without thinking, I leaned forward and kissed him.

The movement startled him at first—his breath hitched, his hands hovering awkwardly—but then he responded, his touch finding my waist as he pulled me closer. His lips were warm and soft, hesitant at first, as though he wasn’t entirely sure he was allowed to kiss me back.

When my hand slid up to the back of his neck, threading through his hair, the kiss deepened. His grip on my waist tightened, his other hand brushing lightly against my arm before settling on my lower back. The air between us seemed to crackle, the faint scent of cocoa mingling with the heat of his touch.

He kissed me like he was trying to memorize it, his lips moving slowly but deliberately, as though he didn’t want to rush.

When I finally pulled back, my forehead barely brushed against his, our breaths mingling in the warm air of the kitchen. My cheeks burned, and my pulse hammered in my ears, but I couldn’t bring myself to step away just yet.

Franco’s green eyes searched mine, his usual confidence replaced by something quieter, softer. His lips parted slightly like he wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come right away.

“I didn’t think you’d do that,” he finally murmured, his voice low and uncertain.

“Good surprise or bad surprise?” I asked, my tone light despite the way my chest tightened.

“Good,” he said without hesitation, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Really good.”

His hands were still resting lightly on my waist, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of my sweater. The warmth of his touch was bringing my head back to earth, making the moment feel more real than anything that had come before it.

I wasn’t sure who moved first, but before I knew it, I was leaning back in, capturing his lips in another kiss. This one was slower, more deliberate, the kind of kiss that felt like an unspoken promise. His hand slid up to cradle my face, his thumb brushing softly against my cheek as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

The sound of the door creaking open made us jump apart, and I turned sharply to see Lando standing frozen in the doorway, his mouth hanging open.

For a moment, none of us spoke. Then, Lando blinked, his gaze darting between us as his brain seemed to catch up with what he’d just walked in on.

“Oh my god,” he blurted out, his voice a mix of shock and triumph. “You’re actually for real..”

“Lando—” Franco started, his voice low and exasperated.

“No, no, wait. This is—wow. I mean, Oscar’s gonna lose his mind. And ten euros.” Lando grinned, his excitement building.

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Lando, can you please just—”

“Leave you to it?” he interrupted, smirking as he leaned casually against the doorframe. “Sure, I can do that.” 

The sound of his retreating footsteps was immediately followed by his voice erupting from the living room. “OSCAR! MAX! THEY’RE ACTUALLY TOGETHER! PAY UP!”

Franco let out a long sigh, dragging a hand through his hair. “I’m going to kill him.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up unexpectedly. 

I glanced down at the bracelet on my wrist, the charm catching the light. The warmth spreading through me was impossible to ignore, a quiet certainty settling in my chest.

“Still worth it?” I asked, my tone teasing but soft.

His eyes flicked to the bracelet and then back to me, and the smile that followed was warmer, more genuine.

“Yeah,” he said simply. “Definitely.”

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 2

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2])

I'm glad nicky came up with a cool new tune because according to period movies and shows greensleeves is the only song anyone ever knew

look at that meek little smile, ughhhh. nicky is like two days old and this asshole has already figured out he's the perfect prop for her murder sprees. and these poor women are calling her sister and are willing to help too.

the spell is te accipimus in circulum, we accept you in the circle, and yes that makes me cry a little. we accept you in our community. and the spell is yellow air magic, which sounds like the most empathic kind if Lilia is any indication.

that's interesting, you can't really tell that well from screencaps but go rewatch the scene, this witch is making mushrooms grow with yellow magic instead of green?? is it just a spell (she is holding a book) or have I been getting it all wrong and color has nothing to do with the type of magic one has?

or maybe??? the color depends on the coven you're in?? the salemites all had blue magic for example. and now that I think about it the stone circle is a protection spell but it's not red/orange.

the meaning of this scene is so glaring dear lord. agatha was never going to give these women a chance to prove that yes, there are people out there who could love and help and accept her. she has shut herself up to that possibility a long time ago.

and she stole the soup too. awful.

I've seen all the different theories about nicky needing to feed on witches too, or nicky needing soul sacrifices to survive because he's the son of death etc. we don't have enough evidence to prove anything yet, but personally I headcanon nicky as a totally normal kid, that makes this story even more tragic.

and aww that baby suckling on the little pudgy fist

nicky doesn't look that happy about what he's been asked to do, does he?

we establish that nicky was sickly (maybe he was born with some internal defect that rio temporarily patched up?) we also see him steal the bell agatha will use for her Road scam in the future.

and we meet yet another witch being kind and wanting to help.

agatha: I love this six year old so much I'm gonna make him accessory to murder

dO yOU ShaME YouR MOtHER

and the big fake gasp too. as usual this bitch has conned a whole community

like, she's convinced herself that other witches are bad and are after her WHILE relying on witches's good hearts to con and kill them. what sort of mental gymnastics???

color goes from yellow to purple. nicky waits outside while his mom commits murder, it's not a good look on agatha. completely fucked up, actually.

(I'm terrified that the goat will end up being an agent of mephisto or something idiotic like that, lemme tell you. I hope they're just keeping it for milk and company.)

and here's the million dollar question. nicky has seen his mom kill literally since he was born, and now he's old enough to start realizing what that means.

oooh I know that look, that's agatha when she's put on the spot. she avoids his gaze, she can't be sincere with him.

and of course she's teaching herself spells from a book. nerrrrrrd

nicky, bless his soul, appears to give it a good thought and then offers a practical suggestion. I guess he wouldn't mind to have a roof on his head and some friends too.

GREAT acting from kathryn here. the quick OH SHIT face followed by the super final NO, with her jaw so rigid. in typical agatha fashion, when she's upset she becomes avoidant.

this is evanora's legacy. despite agatha's immense love for nicky, she is passing all that pain down and inflicting it on him.

remember when she called billy a survivor? this is the greatest asset in her opinion, the one she wants to teach her son. the truth is, she is angry at witches because she is scared of them, she's scared of being targeted again. but look at that kid's dark circles, I can't believe she's making him sleep in the woods, sick as he is!

really really fantastic subtlety. agatha wants to sound wise and strong, but she looks scared, uncertain, guilty.

see how nicky looks at agatha while he sings? he's checking to see if she's noticing, because his mom likes music and likes his voice. he's afraid he has upset her and wants to make her smile. he tried to reason with her, and now he tries to soothe her. this is what happens when you have an immature parent, a child will want to help, they will try to fix things. they'll end up parenting their parent, and it should always be the other way round.

agatha takes the bait. she's relieved that the conversation has moved to a safer subject. but oh, this script is so good. this is a mostly innocent, mostly sweet remark, but with a possessive undertone. don't forget that you are mine, she says.

and still, the love is real. even in a fucked up situation like this, these moment of happiness are precious and genuine and will linger on. look at how adoringly nicky looks at his mom, she's literally the sun and center of his small world, and that's how agatha likes it: she created nicky because she needed someone who could be hers without any baggage or consequences. but it turns out that raising a child is not a cheat code for love, it's one of the most difficult, most significant and impactful decisions a human can make.

go to episode 9 part 3

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

I recently rewatched Mouthwashing (thanks to CoryxKenshin being back like the king he is) and going through the tag again and I think everyone's missing like, one big thing with Anya. Specifically due to people not realizing just how long they were all stuck there.

tw under the cut for... everything that happens to Anya in this game.

More specifically, TW: sexual assault, pregnancy, abortion, miscarriage, suicide.

Anya was not still pregnant when she died.

I kinda figured this was common knowledge but I keep seeing people like... assume she was dying while still pregnant, and the thing is. It doesn't track at all.

When Anya asks Curly how much longer they'll be in space, and she depressedly realizes it will be eight months, that's cause she already knows she's pregnant by that point. Human pregnancy is roughly nine months, if you weren't aware, and women tend to realize they're pregnant at about 2-3 months. AKA: she's realizing she has no chance of an abortion. Clearly they don't have the medical tools for a safe one on the ship, and they're not going to leave the ship for eight months. By that time, the kid will be born. Even if miraculously she's still pregnant by the time they land and she can get a late-late-term abortion, even if she gives the kid up for adoption, she still has to be pregnant, on a ship that barely has the tools for the survival of five healthy people, with her rapist's baby, for eight months. And again, that's not going to happen; she's already 2-3 months along at that point, the kid would probably be born in the med bay.

I think that's also part of why Jimmy freaked out. The "taking responsibility" could be seen as him having to take responsibility for a kid, but the way I always read it, it was that once they landed, there would be zero chance that Jimmy could deny he'd slept with Anya. DNA tests are accurate now, I'm sure in our far future where we can space-travel it's gotten even better. His best case scenario would be her not pressing charges or claiming it was consensual and then he'd have to either help raise the kid or pay child support when he clearly can't even afford to take care of himself AND he just lost his job. But that's again, the best case. What I think he knew would be more likely to happen would be that she would admit what had happened to her, the baby would serve as proof, and whether Curly backed him up or not, Swansea and Daisuke were less fond of him and less loyal to him respectively. If they testified that they didn't see any consensual relationship going on, or if they testified about him harassing her or worse, that'd be three-against-two, and that's assuming Curly would back him up on the basis of them being friends. Curly claimed to Jimmy that he was going to figure it out for them, and his efforts to appease Jimmy over protecting Anya are what caused this shitstorm to happen, but he's also a professional who isn't very inclined to dishonesty from what we've seen of him.

Jimmy, I think, knew that. He knew that "taking responsibility" wasn't just "for the kid you brought into the world," it would be "for the crime you committed." If the MouthwashingVerse society is similar enough to ours, he would be arrested and charged, probably jailed, and put on a sex offender registry, which would severely limit his job prospects once he got out of incarceration. If the society is better than ours, he might get longer jail time and worse punishments then we see for rapists in our world. And if it's worse, there's still physical proof that Jimmy created a kid and he'd be expected to take care of it. But I think the former options are the more likely, and why Jimmy was so willing to die rather than take responsibility. It wasn't "I would rather die than be a father," it was "I would rather die than face consequences for my crimes." Let's also not forget that in storytelling, babies are basic metaphors for the future. Jimmy does not want to face his future, so he kills it for everyone.

But with the crash, back to my main point: Anya would've been 2-3 months pregnant by the time of the crash. They survive five months on the asteroid before everyone dies. I know this game is low-poly, but does Anya look 7-8 months pregnant to you? The game has enough polygons to make Swansea plus-sized, so you'd think it wouldn't be that hard to make an alternate Anya model. But she not only doesn't look pregnant, not a single other character mentions a pregnancy in their laundry list of current problems. It's not exactly easy to hide when you're seven months pregnant.

It's most likely that Anya miscarried early on in the crash. If the crash itself didn't do it– which it probably did– the next five months of limited food, high-stress, and no medication would do it.

Why am I bringing this up? I keep seeing people assume that Anya's suicide was then in her last-ditch effort to not have to birth her rapist's baby. An attempt to take control back of her own body. But there isn't a baby by then. Anya hasn't been pregnant for a while. I think it's a little scary for people to try turning her suicide into her triumphing over Jimmy, when part of the horror of the story is how everyone's deaths were tragic and avoidable. Anya did not kill herself to avoid being pregnant, she killed herself because she was traumatized and suicidal and didn't see a future for her or anyone on the ship.

[delusion-is-back]

*slams fist on the table* you know what I want? I want a fic of Jayce and Vi in a lavender marriage

I want a story where Jayce Talis, young and successful bachelor of Piltover starts getting marriage proposals from some of the more powerful families in Piltover, all of them with the clear intent of getting their grubby hands on Hextech as it's being developed. And Jayce, not knowing how to tell those vulture to fuck off decides the best course of action is to fake already being married to someone he knows won't screw him over.

His first choice is Cait, she's the single daughter of the Kiramman house, she would be a perfect match except for the fact that she's like his little sister, just the thought of suggesting a marriage to his openly lesbian little sister makes him want to barf, he can't ask her that. Plus he doesn't fully trust Cassandra not to take advantage of their fake marriage when it comes to hextech and he would rather not risk it.

She other obvious option would be Mel, another member of the council they would make the best power couple in Piltover but again, it doesn't feel right to ask that of her, Jayce knows that Mel would understand his predicament and help him but it would be serving Hextech in a silver platter to Ambessa if she got wind of her daughter marring the Man of Progress.

The list of women he would ask this is very short, while all of this is going on Jayce realizes he really needs to make more friends.

Jinx is not an option, not even a consideration she would kill him for even asking and he would rather take his chances with the vultures than with her.

That only leaves one, the one person he really, really didn't want to ask but realistically was his better shot at.

Vi would laugh at him for two solid minutes until she realizes he's being serious, followed by Vi trying to carefully reject him because "You're a cool guy Jayce, but you're really not my type" which Jayce would sulk on later but for now he really needs Vi to agree to help him with this before he loses his mind.

It takes a lot of begging and a lot of yapping, a lot of appealing to Vi's good heart and the danger of Hextech falling into the wrong hands before she starts to listen. Vi doesn't understand why Jayce can't just tell them to fuck off but that's rich people's problems she doesn't really wanna know about. Until she finally, reluctantly, agrees to do him this one solid because in all fairness she took his gauntlets and never gave them back.

And so Jayce makes a public announcement to the investors who kept bugging him with marriage proposals to, respectfully, fuck off because the man of progress already has a wife. Now that's out of the way, another problem surges because Jayce Talis is not very good at evaluating the consequences of action, because now the council and the people of piltover want to meet Mrs. Talis.

Stuffing Vi in a formal dress is no easy task, for one because none of Cait's really fit her, and those that do are a little too long and Vi already stated that she's not wearing heels, she can handle a dress but those ankle snapping heels are off the table, it's her regular shoes hidden under a long skirt dress or nothing.

Taking Vi to a formal event felt like dragging a bull into a china shop and locking the door, Jayce's behind didn't unclench for the entire night as he shuttled her around the uppercrust of piltover, they'd made up some bullshit story about Vi's past since being a former inmate of stillwater was not a very compelling story. If any members of the council recognized Violet they didn't say anything.

Now you may be wondering where is Viktor in all of this? Wouldn't he have something to say about it? Well he's just enjoying the shitshow from the sidelines, because Jayce Talis forgot one crucial thing about the whole thing; there's no such thing as homophobia in Ruterra, and if the issue was Jayce finding a spouse quick Viktor would've been more than willing to play along for the sake of protecting Hextech, but before he could even suggest it Jayce was already digging his own grave and it was way to entertaining for Viktor not to sit back and watch it all go down. He would tell Jayce how dumb his plan was another day and watch the realization hit him, but for now he's just having a good time watching Jayce Talis trying to handle the toughest pink haired lesbian of all of Zaun.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

what do you think harry likes to do in his free time if there isn't a huge mystery going on?

Hello 👋

He doesn't have that many hobbies, since more often than not Harry is at the center of a plot to kill him. But we do see things he enjoyed doing to pass the time.

We know Harry likes Quidditch, and we know he enjoys flying in general as a hobby when given the time and opportunity.

We see him play Exploding Snap and collect Chocolate Frog cards. And while he isn't very good at chess, he does play it against Ron a lot! I think he does enjoy it, even if he loses more often than not.

He really loves magic, and once he's 17, he casts magic just because he can. So, I can definitely see him absently changing the color of various items or levitating his quill when he's bored in class.

With the D.A. (and from the beginning of 1st year) we also saw he does enjoy learning and he does quite a bit of research for defense spells that have nothing to do with the main mystery. He really does enjoy it, I think.

In this post and reblog, @sparsilees and I talk about how Harry loves little fancy trinkets and fancy things in general. Since he was gifted luxury quills and such, I can totally see him having a collection of nice quills and inks that he doesn't really use. He just liked buying them.

He likes watching TV when he gets the chance at the Dursleys, and I think he would love fictional books if he had the time to sit down and read them. But, post-books Harry would totally go to the cinema to watch movies when he finds time. He would take his kids too. That would be their main muggle exposure.

In the books, he hangs out with Ron and Hermione a lot, and that's how he spends most of his free time, if we're being honest. The kid was lonely all his childhood, of course, he'd love hanging out with his friends!

[pondlilies00]

Happy Holidays @argyros! I was your santa for the @natsume-ss exchange! I thought a roleswap would be funny so here's Natsume as a yokai and Nyanko is a normal cat he follows around. I really liked this idea so I've got some headcannons and silly doodles exploring this AU under the cut :)

Natsume is an extremely powerful yokai that was sealed away

Nyanko accidently releases him

Normally, this is when Natsume would offer a wish so he won’t be indebted but being a cat, Nyanko can’t speak

With no way to pay off his debt, Natsume is forced to follow Nyanko around in hopes of a situation happening where he’s able to save Nyanko and be released of his debt

… Except the chance never happens. Nyanko ate weird food off the floor? He’s not human, he doesn't get sick. Nyanko fell out of a tree? Cats always land on their feet. An unknown, possibly dangerous, human approaches? Nope, the only ones that approach are cat lovers, the other humans are put off by the “ugly” cat with the weirdly large head

You know how some cats trick multiple people into thinking that they're the cat's owner so they can get food? That’s 100% Nyanko

Officially, he’s the Fujiwara’s but he’s visit Taki and Tanuma enough that they have cat beds and bowls for him

Natsume loves watching the Fujiwaras. There’s a warmth to them that is so alien yet comforting to him. Sometimes, he imagines what life as a human would be like. He would have loved to be their son

The first time Natsume followed Nyanko over the Tanuma’s, Tanuma sensed Natsume and freaked out. His cat is haunted?!?! Natsume feels bad and shows himself to the human to explain the situation

Taki also ends up meeting Natsume when he accidentally steps into one of her circles. She too freaks out about her cat being haunted

The exorcists are aware of Natsume escaping his seal but Natsume is the strongest yokai they’ve ever met

For now, the exorcists are allowing Natsume to follow the cat. Their predecessors were only able to seal him out of sheer luck so they have no way of getting rid of Natsume currently

All past attempts to exorcize him failed because Natsume would just punch his way out, didn’t even use yokai magic, just sheer fists

I like to imagine that in the normal Natsume Yuujinchou universe, there's an urban legend in Natsume’s neighborhood about a humanoid figure floating through the sky. In reality, it's Natsume flying around on Nyanko’s back. Like we know humans cant see Nyanko’s true form but Natsume doesn't have that luxury. Surely some has to have spotted him

Anyways, the roleswap au has a rumor going around about a floating cat which is in reality, Natsume carrying Nyanko around

By the time Natsume realizes how weird it must look to humans, Nyanko has already gotten use to being carried and demands to be lifted

The Dog’s Circle is now the Cat’s Circle. Hinoe is a crazy cat lady

The Book of Friends is now The Book of Cats Nyanko Has Beef With. It’s Natsume’s journal where he logs Nyanko’s daily life

[quirekey]

I love your writing so much! Can I request how heatwave would react to his little human gf when she gets the chance to babysit Cece for the Greene’s and she’s literally like a mom? Even the Burns would be surprised at how good reader is acting with little Cece. Kade would fs tease heatwave as well, saying something like, “she’s loves kids, heatwave. Take notes on that.”

We all know that heatwave secretly loved robo baby in that one episode, and I feel like he feels the same for cece ngl.

Sorry if this seems too descriptive 😞 tysm tho!💛

AWWW THIS IS SO CUTE!! I’m so sorry for coming late, Christmas and stuff! I’m so glad I can write freely now. I’ll do a small introduction as an apology for my late answer >:]

(ALSO TYSMMM GAH)

[ HEATWAVE ] x [ FEMME!READER ]

[ heatwave x human!femme!motherlike!reader ]

INTRODUCTION

You were first introduced to the Rescue Bots due to Kade’s trust in you. You both were really good friends and you somehow had the tolerance to stand Kade on a daily basis. Kade with his loud mouth slipped and told you about the Rescue Bots, Heatwave specifically. Because of this, you met the Rescue Bots and got to know them on a personal level.

Months pass and seemingly Heatwave has been pushing Kade away, bringing himself to be with you more often. You saw him as a gentle soul and he appreciated that. After a while, the little love confessions happen and you both got together. (let’s say he confessed first, bluntly)

Ever since then, you both were lovers. Unfortunately you did not have any training in the field and only knew some medical procedures, so you stayed behind or went with Chief in-case of emergencies or injured civilians.

Mr. Greene trusted you a lot due to your kind and trusting nature, so overtime, he wanted to adjust you to Cece, his daughter. You adored her so when you got to babysit her, it was definitely a fun time for you. That day was a quiet one, so you and Heatwave decided to take care of Cece during the time you guys have together.

HEADCANONS

- When you brought Cece to the department while Cece slept in your arms, the Rescue Bots were definitely surprised. Boulder was the most happy with her appearance due to a past emergency where he was her little frog-plush (something that you can never get over). Chase and Blades didn’t mind too much, but Heatwave did.

- Heatwave was not fond of Cece. Having a fragile baby near massive sentient robots doesn't seem safe, but you assured Heatwave that you can keep her safe.

- You tried to get Heatwave to get along with Cece, constantly getting him to help you take care of her. You even got him to hold Cece, in your vision of course.

- After a while, you picked up Heatwave’s true feelings about little and young sentients (or technically babies). He seemed to be pretty comfortable and fond of them, he seems to be more relaxed with the knowledge that he’s taking care of such a fragile being. You think that he thinks that Cece is pretty wholesome, annoying but fun.

- Cece really likes Heatwave. It’s common that babies enjoy those ‘hard to get’ types of people, knowing deep down that they still care. You saw this so you got Cece to hang around with Heatwave more often than you, and they got along pretty well. Heatwave was too afraid to hurt her so he didn’t do much, trying to make it look like he doesn’t care when he really does.

- You do all of the chores when it comes to taking care of Cece. Changing her nappy, feeding her and bathing her. Heatwave does the comforting and rocking her to bed type of chore. Though you could easily do that yourself, the sight of Heatwave being a parental figure always warmed your heart.

- Though he’s afraid to admit it, Heatwave does get jealous of Cece. Though it’s an absolutely embarrassing secret, when Cece is around, she takes all of your attention away from him. He doesn’t care but the bitter jealousy does linger over him when you are babysitting Cece.

- You enjoy getting Heatwave to turn into a firetruck and driving you and Cece around. Cece giggling and looking outside the window is an adorable sight and Heatwave is way slower and careful when you guys do this. Doing this does help Cece sleep too. Being rocked in a Fire Truck while you told her a story is luxury in her eyes.

- I do agree, Kade does make fun of Heatwave for this A LOT. When Heatwave is helping Cece fall to sleep by telling her a story he was told in Cybertron, Kade always poke fun. He’s usually teasing and snickering at the sight, saying how much of a softie Heatwave really is. All Heatwave could do is keep rocking Cece and ignore Kade’s antics. (Or Heatwave would just tell him to shut up.)

- You gained a deeper understanding of your lover when Chase told you about the time when the Rescue Bots were assigned to take care of Robo-baby. Chase thought it’d be important to mention that Heatwave does enjoy the company of babies and that you can trust him with one. Not like you did before but it was nice to have some reassurance.

[spaghett-onaplate]

the morning (afternoon) has come, and with it a refreshed perspective

kinda wish this one guy was gay

[thebestsetter]

-> Part 1

-> Pairings: Otoya x reader (romantic) , Karasu x reader (platonic)

-> Synopsis: Otoya regrets being a cheater. But how will he tell you that, when he can't even get near you?

-> A/N: I finally, FINALLY finished this. Locked in, guys. Please, someone congratulate me. I need sleep. Not proofread, sorry.

For the first time in a while, Otoya doesn't know what to do.

He's not insecure about the choices he makes. Actually, scratch that: he's the most uncaring and reckless guy ever, and he just wants to enjoy life to the fullest without really caring for his actions and what they can bring upon him in the future.

God, how he wishes he wasn't like that.

Because right now, all he wants to do is study for 10 years or something, build a time machine, go back to the past and beat his past self up. Like, hard. Until younger him has a bloody nose and a black eye.

Maybe this little "fight" could make past Otoya think twice before cheating on the first girl he got in a serious relationship with. Maybe he wouldn't be known as a womanizer. Maybe he could've had a chance with you then.

Maybe if he did that, he wouldn't be in Karasu's bedroom right now, scattering his brain for the past 2 hours for a way to make you forgive him.

"Don't you have any prophecies for me this time?" Otoya mindlessly asked, tearing tiny pieces of Karasu's math homeword, crumpling them and throwing them at his friend

"What do ya mean? I'm not an oracle" Karasu answered, just wanting this all to be over with (he couldn't handle Otoya going on about you anymore)

"You might as well be" Otoya sighed, grabbing another piece of paper and crumpling it "You've cursed me before. Can't you bless me this once?"

"Well, the things I say ain't gonna change the past. Nothing's going to. What you can do is fix the future"

"Wow. You're actually like a prophet or something." Otoya rolled his eyes, aiming at the top of his friend's hair "I've never thought about that! Wow! You're incredible, prophet Karasu!" He mocked him, muttering a small "Yes!" when the pieces of paper perfectly landed on Tabito's hair

"Haha. Very funny" Karasu glared at his friend, shaking his head to get rid of the paper. Then, he sighed "No, but seriously. Ya need to fix this. I am not going to be your love guru anymore"

"Love guru? You're not even doing anything to help me!" Otoya scoffed, then sighed as he realized he tore all the homework "And if you're so 'tired of me' like you said, just help me solve this situation! Help me find a way to talk to her, cause I'm seriously going insane!"

"I can see that" Karasu smirked, crossing his arms. Then just as soon as he smirked, he stopped. His serious face making it seem like the smirk was not even there "Have you tried talking to her, already?"

"Of course I did!" Otoya rolled his eyes, getting up from Karasu's gaming chair and beggining to pace around the room "But I can't! She doesn't let me" He sighed, finally sitting on the floor, right in front of Tabito "At home, she doesn't let me enter. And her parents probably know about what's happening too, cause they won't let me in. When she has to go out, she checks if I'm there, and only when she's sure I'm not does she get out. At school, everytime she sees me, she walks the other way. She doesn't sit next to me in any classes, and the only classes we share together are history and advanced chemistry, which we share with you so you know she doesn't even look my way" he crossed his arms, pouting and looking to the side, as if he was ashamed of what he was about to say "It also doesn't help that I've cheated on or flirted with almost all of her girl friends. So they hate me, and won't let me get close to her cause they say I would 'Hurt her' or something"

"Well, would you?" Karasu arched a brow "Hurt and cheat on her, I mean"

"What?" Otoya looked at him incredously, like what he said was just straight up absurd "Of course not! I like her dude. Like, like-like her. A lot more than the other girls I got into a relationship with. She's nicer, prettier, smarter, funnier, more caring, more-"

"Alright, alright, I get it" Karasu smirked again "You're head over heels. Well, loverboy, why don't you try talking to her again tomorrow during chesmistry? If it doesn't work out, we can try to find another way, 'right?"

"Sure" Otoya sighed, getting up "I don't think it's gonna work, but it's worth the shot"

"Now, let's go eat something to take your mind out of this for a while. My mom prepared cookies" Karasu also got up, patting Otoya's back and putting his arm around his shoulders

"Sure, all this thinking made me hungry anyways" he then looked at the ground, like he was lost in thought. He then suddenly lifted his head, and Karasu could almost see a light bulb lighting up above his head "Hey, you think if I made (Name) cookies, it would be easier for her to forgive me."

"Bro, shut up"

The advanced chemistry class would start in 5 minutes, and you were nowhere to be found.

Otoya was actually nervous, though he seemed laid-back with his arms behind his head and his feet on the table.

"What if she moved classes just to be further from me?" Otoya asked Karasu, his seat partner, while nervously looking at the door "What if she moved schools?"

"Dude, stop" Karasu rolled his eyes "She's probably just running late. You more than anyone know how she's a little clumsy and likes to sleep in"

"Yeah" Otoya smiled a little "I always thought it was cute when I went to her house and she was still sleeping"

"Don't even start rambling about 'how cute she is' again. I'll actually kill myself if you do"

Just as Karasu said that, the girl Otoya was waiting for entered the classroom, looking distraught and breathing heavily. 'She probably ran all the way here' Eita thought, which made his smile stretch up a little

In a sudden moviment, Otoya removed his feet from the table, not wanting to look like a "delinquent" in front of you. He passed his hands through his hair, smelled his breath, making sure it was at least bearable, and removed some cookie crumbs from his uniform.

Just as he was about to get up and approach you, the teacher entered the classroom, shouting about some activity in page 34.

"Shit" Otoya muttered, putting his head in his hands

"It's okay, man. There's always the end of the class" Karasu patted Eita's shoulder

"Yeah. I guess you're right" Otoya sighed, grabbing his room just as the teacher asked

He could care less for the class, honestly. The 1 hour classes looked like it took a century to end. The clock on top of the board was staring at him, seemingly laughing and slowing down the time.

He moved his knees up and down, axiety radiating off of him in waves.

'What the heck is happening to me?' He asked himself, doodling a girl that looked strangely like you on the side of the paper. When he realized what he did, he quickly erased it, face heating up 'I've never acted like this! Just what is he doing to me? And how to win her back...'

"Otoya" Karasu snapped him out of his thoughts, pointing to the white board. They sat near the back of the classroom, so Otoya had to squint his eyes to read what was written on the board.

There, in the chemistry teacher's ugly hand writing, he read:

CHEMISTRY PROJECT

1 WEEK TO FINISH IT

60% OF THE GRADE

"So, as I was saying" the teacher started "This is a project about Lavoisier's laws. And before you ask, it is not individual. It's gonna be in duos..."

"We should do it together" Karasu muttered as the whole class began whispering "Unless you wanna do it with her"

"As if she would let me" Otoya muttered back "But I'd like to. I'll try to talk to her"

"...and I choose the duos. No switching partners, either" the teacher ended, and he looked like he was holding back a smirk

A roar of disappointed whispers could be heard from the class, including from Karasu, but Otoya was not sad in the slightest.

This was perfect. If the teacher put you both together, you couldn't complain. You couldn't switch partners. He's just gonna need a but of luck on his side.

"I'm gonna start saying the duos now" the teacher said, grabbing a paper "Yuko and Hitoka"

He began praying. Begging for you to be his partner.

"Yumeko and Tobio"

'C'mon' he thought 'C'mon, c'mon, c'mon"

His leg was shaking. He was sweating.

"Kyoko and Tanaka"

This was it. You two were gonna be together, and you'd finally realize how he regrets his past actions.

Finally, a little bit of luck on his life. Finally, a little push. He was the world's luckiest man. He was literally the world's...

"(Name) and Karasu"

Unlickiest man.

"Ouch. I'm sorry, dude" Karasu said, with a frown.

"...what are you sorry for?" Otoya answered, snapping out of his daydream "It isn't your fault, don't worry about it. I'll just have to accept it. I'll never get her."

"Don't say that." Karasu's frown got deeper "We're gonna work something out. I promise"

Otoya sighed, and then smiled a little

"Thank you, bro. I don't even know how to pay you back for what you're doing"

"I know" Karasu sai, his typical smirk appearing on his face again "A couple hundreds on my bank account would be nice"

"Dude." Otoya deadpanned, but laughed a little

In the other side of the classroom, you were relieved and panicked at the same time

Sure, you were hoping you wouldn't be partnered up with Otoya, so you were relieved. But get partnered up with his best friend? That wasn't really ideal.

Karasu was a good person, had helped you more than once and was a chemistry genius, so you were sure the project would go by smoothly and you'd get a good grade.

Still, you couldn't help but be a little bit nervous. You tried to tell yourself that jt was because of the whole grade thing, but you knew it wasn't.

You heart knew. You were scared Otoya would do something. And you were even more afraid, because you knew that, if he did something, you'd most likely forgive him.

And that thought frightened you.

Whatever. You just had to put on your big girl's pants and do it.

It was easier said than done, though, when Karasu walked up to you, wanting your phone number to discuss project stuff, and Otoya trailed behind him, trying to talk to you.

It was easier said than done when, the moment you gave Karasu your number, Otoya frowned a little, clearly trying not to seem affected by it.

Man this, was gonna be hard.

"Make yourself at home" Karasu said, turning on the lights to his room.

You made it clear you felt comfortble doing the work in his room, since most books and chemistry stuff were already here and you didn't want to be a burden.

He still insisted on letting the door open, though, just to make sure, which honestly made you more relieved.

He seemed nicer than Otoya. Taller. A little buffer, too.

So why couldn't you have fallen for him? Why did your heart earn for a cheater?

"Thank you" you answered, teying to shake your thoughts away. You were here to do the chemistry project, not to think about boys.

It was hard maintaining that philosophy when everywhere you looked, you could see photos of him and Otoya. When you saw Otoya's jacket lying around, knowing he was there before. When you saw his stupid plastic shuriken, which she he used to try to impress you one time but ended up throwing it at the old lady's next door face.

"Let's start the project, shall we?" Karasu said, smiling nervously. He noticed you were looking at Otoya's things but didn't wanna make you uncomfortable or something, so he tried to take your mind off of it. The last thing he needed was you thinking that he and Otoya had armed something while you were here. You were for sure hate Eita even more"

"S-sure" you flinched, hating how you stuttered and how squicky you voice came out "I mean, sure. Let's start"

Safe to say, the project went by just fine. You finished it in no time, and in 2 hours, you were both just sitting on his floor, eating blue cookies his mother made and gossiping about some school girl who apparently hooked up with a teacher.

"Man, you're cool" Karasu smiled at you, and suddenly had an idea. He mentally said sorry to both you and Otoya, but thus was the only way to help his friend "No wonder Otoya talks about you all of the time"

He then faked a surprised reaction, even covering his mouth with his hand and muttering "Oops"

"He... talks about me?" You repeated, trying to make sense of what he said

"All of the time" Karasu said "He talks about how nice, pretty and funny you are. I honestly can't take it anymore"

An uncomfortable silence settled in the room, and just as he was about to take what he said back, you muttered

"You're not..." you hesitated "You're not lying, are you?"

"What? No, I'm not" He said "He really likes you, you know. He even stopped going out with every girl he sees. He changed. For you"

You doubted it. Your brain told you to doubt his words, to just ignore what he said. He was probably just helping his friend, who wanted to get laid or something. Your brain told you that.

But your heart was foolish. It was dumb. And so, you couldn't helo but feel flattered to hear that. You wanted to believe him.

"Excuse me" you said, suddenly getting up "I need to go to the bathroom."

You needed to clear your thoughts

"Oh, sure" Karasu answered, pointing at a door that was right beside you "Right there. My room's a suite" you nodded, and began walking away "I'm sorry if I said something wrong"

"You're fine" and with that, you entered the bathroom

Karasu thought that was it. That he completely ruined his friend's chances with you, and you'd both hate him forever.

Keyword: thought. Otoya would never stop surprising him.

That's why, when Otoya entered his room running, Karasu couldn't helo but let out a yelp

"What are you doing here?" Karasu growled, looking at his friend

"She's not here, right?" Otoya asked, looking around the room "Please tell me she's not here"

You were not dumb. Neither were you deaf. You were listening. He knew you were listening.

"No." Karasu answered "No, she's not"

Now, Otoya's fate rested on his hands. He couldn't screw this up. He needed to talk about you, say what he truly thought.

Honestly, it wasn't even hard. He seemed to love talking about you

"I think I'm giving up, Tabito" Karasu knew Otoya was being serious when he called him by his first name

"Giving up on what, exactly?" Karasu said. He knew what it was, of course. It was you who needed to know it, too.

"On my dream to be a dinosaur nanny" Otoya glared at him "Of course I'm talking about (Name)!"

"But I thought you liked her?" Karasu crossed his arms, getting closer to the bathroom so you could hear the conversation easier

"I do!" Otoya shouted, and Karasu could hear your quiet gasp on the other side of the door, he just hoped Otoya couldn't hear it too "God, I like her so much. I want nothing more than to hold her hand, go on idiotic picnics with her, go skating together, gaze at the stars again" Otoya passed his hand through his hair, frustrated "Do you have any idea how down bad I am? I'm listening nonstop to our shared playlist and all. I just want to at least talk to her, man!"

"And why don't you tell her that?" Karasu said, knocking quietly on the door of the bathroom. He hoped you got the memo

"Because she won't talk to me?" Otoya said in a suspecting voice "Dude, you know that. You're acting strange"

"I don't think you should worry about telling her that anymore" Karasu heard the door unlocking. He smirked, then stepped aside. "I think she already heard it"

"How do you..." Otoya started, but stopped when the door opened and he saw you "Oh."

"...hi" you muttered, averting his gaze

He was sure he was burning up, reder than a tomato, and his brain screamed for him to go dig a hole and bury himself. But he knew he couldn't.

He was gonna fix this. Right now.

"(Name)" he said, looking right at you "We need to talk"

"I'm gonna give you privacity" Karasu said, exiting the room

For a while, you both just stared at each other, uncomfortable. The tension in the room could be sliced with a knife, and you both seemed to forget how to speak.

"I'm sorry" you broke the silence, looking down "I should've given you a chance to explain yourself. It was immature of me and..."

"You're sorry?" Otoya asked, dumbfounded "No, no. You don't get to be sorry. I'm sorry." He said, getting closer "This is my fault. I shouldn't have cheated on other girls. And I couldn't hate myself more for it. You have every right to be mad at me" he hesitantly grabbed your hands, and you let him "But just know I've changed. I've changed because I like you. Really, really like you. You heard me saying it. It hurts me to see you ignoring me. It physically pains me to see you glare at me or walk the other way when you see me. It makes me hate myself. It makes me wish I could just go back in the past and beat past me up" you giggled a little, and he finally smiled softly "But a wise friend once said that we can't change the past. Nothing can. What we can do is fix the future. And, frankly, (Name), when I look into my future" he gently grabbed your chin, making you look at him "the only thing I can clearly see is you in it."

"Eita" You were sure you were tearing up at this point. Chemistry project long forgotten "I like you, too." You smiled, cupping his cheek "I've liked ever since I first saw you. I'll always like you. But I was scared. Scared that you'd break my heart. Scared that you'd hurt me" you sniffled "Everyone said I made a great choice by letting you go. But if it's the right choice, why does it feel so wrong?"

"(Name)" Otoya muttered "I love you"

"I love you too, Eita" you smiled, leaning in

When your lips were about to touch, you leaned back a little

"Promise not to hurt me?"

He looked at your eyes, and this time you knew exactly what he was thinking. His mind was full with his love for you

"Only a fool would hurt a girl like you"

You then closed the distance, ignoring Karasu's cheers and how the kiss tasted like salty tears.

Nothing mattered anymore. Only you two.

This relationship was going to work. Otoya would do everything in his power to make sure of it.

[psychohoneywhiskey]

We know that those old men are perfect for angst, pinning and slow burn but I love those fics where as soon as Logan realizes he loves Wade his demeanor fully changes and he holds onto Wade with no intention of ever letting him go.

He has never considered giving himself the chance to want or need anything cause he is the Worst fucking Wolverine in the multiverse, a failure in every timeline, and every place he is in. But goddammit if the only thing he considers he will ever need in his life is that pretty mouthy merc being only his.

But since Logan is so emotionally constipated he decides the best course of action is to tease Wade until he makes the first move. Wearing as less clothes as possible around the place; and they sleep together so of course the first thing Wade sees as soon as he wakes up and opens his eyes is Logan spread out in the couch with no clothing at all, face down with a leg bent up, and that great cake fully on display.

And don't get him wrong he wouldn't let the opportunity slide if it were any other situation but if the man finally feels comfortable being almost or fully naked around the house, Wade is not gonna act on it or even mention it when Logan is kinda his best friend and doesn't have anywhere else to go. He doesn't want to make Logan feel harassed or like he owes him anything much less sex for giving him the pleasure of staying in his home.

But every day and every minute Wade feels he is going crazy with the way Logan acts around him, not only being temptation incarnated when he sleeps right. next. to. him. but drinking beer on the couch while watching TV with only the bottle covering his uhum important parts, coming out of the shower with a mini, barely there, towel around his waist or making fucking breakfast with only the smallest pair of briefs to ever exist on him.

And hey, Wade knows what is said about him being impulsive, insane, and unpredictable but he swears Logan has been more tactile and possesive than ever around him, and isn't it fucking weird? The man seems to always have an arm on his shoulders, a hand around his neck, or even hugging him from behind while he talks with anyone, Vanessa, Colossus, Cable, and even Spidey.

But Wade won't ever act on it cause what he has with Logan now is so damn precious he won't risk messing it up for a damn huge crush that will pass, okay? It will pass. So it takes months of sexual tension and pinning for Logan to get this shit together and grab Wade's face, kiss him as if his life depends on it and for them to stay in bed for at least 48 hours to make up for the lost time.

And if after that he let's Wade get out of their bed and he has managed to make some hickeys, scratchings, and marks miraculously briefly stay on his skin, well, he is damn proud of it and wouldn't change a thing about it, cause that fucking crazy and sweet man is only his.

[deafeningdestinyaster]

Mike Wheeler : Unarmoured Knight (long ass post)

The fact that I find Mike struggles with is his limitations to meet the expectations or mostly the expectations that he has set for himself. As a GA what we can find is that objectively speaking Mike has got everything that a normal child needs. A fully functional 2 parents, siblings, financially well stable and good friends. The thing is that this might be something that he himself might be completely aware of. This might be something that make you feel that your problems are significantly trivial compared to others (in his case he's friends).

But the normal picture doesn't go much far as it has its own issues. Mostly a perpetual need to prove yourself and for Mike to be in the armour of a good friend, a leader and a boyfriend..For first 2 seasons Mike had a more central character and this kinda reflects how we personally finds him.. which is a really good friend, best friend. But from season 3 onwards we are shown find him not meeting his par. Thing is Mike was never actually given a chance to go through his emotions one by one but rather rushed through.

'Will came back' doesn't necessarily just erase the sadness or hopelessness that you have gone through be it an adult or a child of 12. Will's arrival was also accompanied by the disappearance of El whom he has taken as a friend. Be it romantic or not he does find something in her that made their connection special. Like Will, she made him feel needed. He was always 'protective over Will' but I think more than him Mike was the one more dependent over Will. Will is often portrayed as sensitive child but that never stops him being honest or to call over Mike's BS. He is indeed a voice of reason for Mike and Mike knows that himself.

Back to El, rather than a friend he/she wants him to be a boyfriend to her which tbh is rushed in this series. I don't think a relationship that's made when your super-straight friend and sister prompted into when you were just 12 is really a good one. He was kinda pushed into this role based on his own guilt for not looking for her enough in S2 and also societal expectations.

Unlike Will for whom Joyce and Jon are completely supportive to be himself, Mike is set up with a family who just tries to fits in with all that society demands which is kinda evident in Karen's wardrobe over the series unlike Joyce.

So Mike wants to be a good boyfriend. He tries to have quality time with El ignoring his friends, tries to win her over thru presents, gives up on anything that associates to be childish cos he def loves her.. but what he fails to realise is the fact that he was also losing someone who has been consistent throughout his life, someone who has never changed. His best friend.

And Will made this super clear. This was something that he couldn't forgive himself for and which is why, yeah.. But in case of El he doesn't find he has done anything wrong. In fact he was just begrudgingly following her dad's order. Now, he wants to get back with her, why? Cos it makes him crazy? Thing with Mike and El is that they never reciprocate what the other wants. For El it was a physical confirmation of love be it letters or even a kiss. For Mike, he wanted someone who makes him feel needed and to sometimes lean on him emotionally. To make him, be himself. But sadly, they don't trust each other with their fears or inner turmoils. They both tried. But El doesn't need to lean on Mike for his romantic love but rather to show that she's capable on her own. Even during Mike's monologue what pushed El was not his love confession but rather him prompting she must do it cos she can. But there's someone who makes him feel needed, whom he doesn't treat weak or as a mistake.

What I really feel is that Mike didn't realise that his definition of a best friend is something that's quite parallel to a lover. Mike is needed by Will in a way that makes Will accept himself for being who he is and not like a monster. And Mike needs Will cos he's friendship is something that makes him grounded and can't live without..

.

.

.

Most of these are covered by y'all..just my take on it

[cpattersonevans]

A Love Letter to My Inquisitor

As my first ever post, I felt compelled to write a love letter of sorts to my Inquisitor Lavellan. I have been playing RPGs for a long time, but have never been very good at the 'role playing' aspect. Until recently I had always played Dragon Age as a female human, struggling to make decisions that I would not make in real life. Prior to the announcement of Veilguard I had not played a DA game in probably 6 or 7 years, but to reacquaint myself with the world I decided to replay them (starting at DA2 because my computer hates DAO). This time, I was determined to play as an elf for the first time ever in Inquisition...and romance Solas for the first time ever. I enjoyed the Solas romance. I knew going in that it would not be a happy ending, but I knew nothing of how it would actually develop. I absolutely loved this playthrough. So much so, that right after I finished it the first time all the way through to the end of Trespasser, I restarted a new game to play as Lavellan again, willingly choosing to slog through each collection quest (maybe I'd finally find that one last mosaic piece - I did not). Not because I wanted to relive the romance, but because I missed HER.

In Inquisition, my Lavellan was cold and stoic at first, angry at those who blame her for something she knows nothing about...she literally woke up like this. However, she starts to show her true self to those who slowly go from mere acquaintance to respected friend. She was somewhat tactless and blunt, not having much experience interacting with the human world. She was reluctant to accept the position as leader, always asserting that she is NOT the Herald of Andraste. Seriously, how many times does she have to say this! She continues to express her anger and reluctance when the title of Inquisitor is thrust upon her. She never wanted this! She gets shit done, always focused on the task at hand. She hopes that once she fixes everything, she can go back to her old life. Oh how she was mistaken. As time went on she leaned more into her Dalish identity and enjoyed making decisions in favor of the elves (bye bye Celene). She realized that, although she never wanted to be Inquisitor, she may be able to take advantage of this opportunity for the betterment of her people. Dorian, Cassandra, Varric and Iron Bull became her besties (Sera never stopped thinking she was too elfy). As for the romance. She (me) was not attracted to Solas at first, I still found myself very much liking Cullen (had romanced him and Blackwall previously as female human). I even laughed that Cullen is probably the one people would tell her she should be with, but Solas ended up being the one she was fated to be with. Over the course of the game she realized her attraction towards him was growing. The more conversations they had, the more missions they found themselves in relying on each other to survive, they slowly grew closer and fell in love. Plus...that voice. This relationship was different than any I'd experienced in a game before. It felt like, for them, more was expressed in what wasn't said...or how it was said. I could feel the passion between them. When the break up came, she was ANGRY. I will take any chance I get to yell at Solas in Elven. But, she had a mission to complete. She was fine.

Then Trespasser came. Two years later and still the leader of a massive political organization. How did she get here? She never wanted this. She could still care less about politics. Everyone, please stop asking her about Solas. She doesn't want to talk about it. She is fine. Except...she's not. The closer they get to Solas, the more those repressed feelings come to the surface. Solas was HeLpInG us with the Qunari all along! Face palm. I hated this delulu response, but had to do it. When they finally meet face to face, turns out she's still ANGRY. Cue more angry yelling in Elven. HE SHOULD HAVE TRUSTED HER. Not understanding the full extent of his plans, she offers to help. He won't let her. She vows to save him, this isn't the only way. Bye bye hand. Angry Inquisition book drop. Bye bye Inquisition. She never wanted this.

Now comes Veilguard. I will preface that I have not read any fanfiction. I have only been a solavellan for about 4 or 5 months, so I understand this influences my perspective on how things play out in Veilguard. I had no headcannon. I had no expectations for both the Inquisitor's reappearance and the possibilities of closure. I, of course, hoped her and Solas would reunite, but also knew there was a very strong chance one or the other (or both) could die by the end of the game, because Dragon Age.

I actually liked how Lavellan was portrayed. I don't think it's fair to judge how she has lived for the past 10 years based on the few moments we have with her in the game. I don't think she sounds pathetic or sad. To me she sounds, wise, mature, and like someone who has just seen too much shit. Her voice was filled with sorrow. She has had 10 years to ponder everything that happened during Inquisition, replay every moment, every conversation had with Solas. At first she was so so angry, but over time that anger turned into understanding, then forgiveness. This is not to say that the anger is gone completely, sometimes anger reappears when we least expect it, as it often does when we mourn what was lost, but it does not drive her. Over time, she learns how to manage it, to navigate it, to accept it so that each time it hurts a little less. This is the closest they've been to catching Solas. She finds a memory statue of his. She can feel him, feel that it has something to do with him. It is after this that all those feelings, emotions, start flooding back to her. She never stopped loving him. However, the world has gone to shit. She never wanted this, but knows her title, her position, still carries some weight. She steps up to lead once more in the South. To be the person that people need her to be. She doesn't fully express her feelings about Solas until after she hears about the events that occurred in Arlathan, that he helped save Dalish elves from Elgar'nan. Hope returns, maybe, just maybe, the Solas she knew is still in there somewhere, but...she has a world to save first.

The atonement ending is a great ending. I had no expectations, but I wasn't expecting this. I don't think a game ending as ever made me cry so much. It was very cathartic. Maybe because I had played all of these games back to back then straight into Veilguard, so emotions were high.

Lavellan was never going to turn Solas from his path on her own. Her appeals to him didn't work in Trespasser, why would that be any different now? But she vowed to save him from himself, and those that knew him from the Inquisition truly believed he wanted to be stopped. That it was his pride, himself, getting in his own way. She had to try, but this time she has back up. Solas is released from his duty, he is free. She reassures him that there is another path forward, together. Sure, she could have walked in there, spewing more angry Elven at him, but she is not the same Lavellan she was 10 years ago. She is wiser more mature. This does not mean that this anger won't come up later, but she understands that this is NOT the time for that. It's not about her in this moment, it's about him. It's about saving the world. She accepts her fate. Before joining the fight in the North, she made sure all of her duties were appropriately delegated in the South. When her best friend asks her if she will be leaving again after all of this is over, her reply - "something like that." She knew. She joins her vhenan in the Fade to heal both each other and the blight. I do believe that the Fade prison will not be as bad with them together. She will help him confront his regrets and one day they will be able to leave just like Rook did (Rook's regrets honestly pale in comparison, so it will take him more time), but they will have calmed the blight in the process. Someday they will be able to travel the Fade freely and visit old friends, both spirit and corporeal.

She left the world she knew, left behind the title of Inquisitor. She never wanted this. In Trespasser, Cassandra tells her "Being Inquisitor has brought you good things. Many good things. But only a few have been by your choice. Take what happiness you can from those, and do not let them go." And she doesn't.

This turned into a long post, but all this to say...Lavellan holds a special place with me - for not only being a wonderful, bad ass, protagonist, but for finally allowing me to fully embrace the world of role playing games. I have had an amazing time going on this journey with her, one I will surely repeat many times. I love her.

[atty-goldstein]

Thinking about the Wrong Kids and the implications

Ragh taking the Seacaster eyepatch which makes the user immune to fear, when during the sophomore year quest, he'd been plagued with the threat to his mom's life. Ragh possibly carrying so much guilt because he himself had been possessed in the Nightmare Forest to attack his own friends. The very friends who were the first to accept him and treat him like family when he came out. Because we don't know if the Bad Kids died before they were able to snap their hirelings out of the mind control

Same goes for Tracker. But if it happened before Kristen resurrected herself, that's what would make it a lot more tragic for her. Cuz we know that Kristen discovered how Sol, Helio, and Galicaea were all just in kahoots with each other after the Nightmare King killed her. So they could have promised Tracker revenge on the Nightmare King if she worked for Helio instead. And it's because Kristen doesn't get to tell her about the influences behind those gods.

Speaking of, people are saying Tracker wore silver bracers to make herself stronger, but listen. What if she's wearing them also as a callback to the handcuffs she and Kristen used to use

And god, both Tracker and Zelda taking on physical reminders of their lost loved ones. Tracker still having the tattoos even if she's covered it up, Zelda with the white streak. I guess that's yet another thing Kristen and Gorgug have in common besides dying on the first day of school.

But also, it's like Tracker and Zelda are on the opposite ends of the same spectrum. Tracker became someone Kristen avoided becoming, while Zelda became what Gorgug wanted to be

Wrong Kid Zelda intrigued me so much cuz it could be interpreted that she's behind the Wilma and Digby automatons, but we don't know if she made them because they also died or if they pissed her off somehow she decided to just change or replace them. I'm inclined to think it's the former, and that Zelda also picked up artificing from them cuz they would have grieved together and chances are, the Thistlesprings also treated her like she's one of their own

And goddamn, considering they did get the livestream for the Nightmare King battle set up, then that means she and Gorgug literally just made up. They literally just said they loved each other. They didn't even get the chance to see each other again in person after that cuz the next time he contacted her, she watched him die. If she'd been told Gorgug was alive in Fig's timeline, would she also have switched sides?

But another question about Wrong Kid Zelda tho. What happened to the Seven then, if she teamed up with the other Wrong Kids instead?

And yeah, Penny makes more sense to take Riz's place instead of Zayn, but maybe it's because Penny is Becca's character now

Meanwhile, Aelwyn would have literally just turned against the Abernants, for Adaine. They were supposed to start being sisters. And she loses her. Aelwyn, who used the last of her strength to save Adaine from their father, whose magic is about protection, not being able to protect and save Adaine in the battle with the Nightmare King

Also, what do we think happened? Did she get her lycanthropy from Tracker because they're on the same team now? Or did she get it from Jawbone? Did Jawbone give her lycanthropy to aid in her quest for vengeance, or did she make him give it to her?

Most of Wrong Kid Ayda's deal was explained, I think. But I'm then curious about what happened to her relationship to Arthur in that timeline. He's probably not dead cuz Gorgug's dead a second time, but Ayda probably lashed out at him even more because he was the one who sent the Bad Kids on that quest in the first place

But my biggest question is, why was it so tragic for the Bad Kids to die in that battle? Fig would've still been an Archdevil, so wouldn't she just be in hell then? Wouldn't Fabian just be reunited with his father and they go on adventures together? Wouldn't Riz also be reunited with his father again and start being a full-time agent for heaven? Wouldn't Gorgug end up in heaven too, since Gorthalax fixed that thing where he went to hell? Kristen would probably still be fighting the gods, she probably would even punch Helio again for trying to recruit Tracker. Maybe even pull off what Arthur Aguefort did and knock some gods out and posed as them. And Adaine could maybe reach out beyond the grave to the next Elven Oracle, like the previous one did to her.

Also, we know there are other clerics powerful enough to bring them back from the dead, cuz of Yolanda and Lucy being brought back even after being dead for a while. Surely, Arthur also has more connections to make that happen, especially if Ayda's that angry with him and he wants to fix things with her still.

[imtheproblems]

CHRIS / MATT STURNIOLO ; FRIENDS 2 LOVERS

✦what? -- headcanons

✦summary -- Chris x reader ; Matt x reader (separate) // what are they as your friend, when they have a crush on you and when you're dating :3

✦tw -- fluff, friends to lovers, cursing, prob a little brainrot 😭😭, mentions of drugs (weed), implied fem!reader but can be treated as gn, errors cus i'm not english, i think it's all? Lmk if i missed something!

≡;- ꒰ °MATT STURNIOLO ꒱

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! MATT WHO.. you've met in school or trought Nick

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! MATT WHO.. you instantly clicked with!

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! MATT WHO.. in the early days of your friendship was really shy and awkward (same girl)

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! MATT WHO.. tought that you're pretty from the start

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! MATT WHO.. opened up to you after about 2 months of being friends, when he really trusted you

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! MATT WHO.. was (and is!) the absolute cutest while talking about his interests

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! MATT WHO.. 's solution to everything is take-out and a shitty movie lol (same girl v2)

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! MATT WHO.. after about 1 or 2 years started being your best friend!

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! MATT WHO.. definietly was your comfort person

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! MATT WHO.. has a folder of only your photos

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! MATT WHO.. likes your hair :33

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! MATT WHO.. after a while realised that he may be a little, but only a little smitten for you

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! MATT WHO.. jk he's all over you lmao

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! MATT WHO.. is willing to buy you every snack or drink you want in a matter of minute from you mentioning it

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! MATT WHO.. doesn't want you to notice but he's staring at you everytime he gets

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! MATT WHO.. will be angry if his brothers interrupt your hangouts

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! MATT WHO.. sends you tiktoks with silly cats

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! MATT WHO.. will get incredibly flustered around you

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! MATT WHO.. touches you every chance he gets

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! MATT WHO.. secretly really wants to help you with makeup / doing your hair but is too shy to ask

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! MATT WHO.. likes your smell. that's it. he could smell you forever

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! MATT WHO.. was shy and awkward again

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! MATT WHO.. buys you the best presents

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! MATT WHO.. asks you out in the most random place (yes it was in his car when you wanted to go get candy) (he just randomly felt brave lol)

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! MATT WHO.. is actually suprised you said you do have feelings for him

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! MATT WHO.. does love you with his whole heart

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! MATT WHO.. finally (!!) truly opens up to you

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! MATT WHO.. does help you out with your makeup and hair

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! MATT WHO.. does not care how you look

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! MATT WHO.. loves you in the morning when you have bedhead and bad breath, trought the day when you laugh at his jokes and at night when you sleep peacfully next to him, your hair a mess and your lips slightly parted

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! MATT WHO.. will get a kitty (you can't tell me it's a lie this man NEEDS a cat)

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! MATT WHO.. will name the cat after your favourite singer / musician (it just matches him lol)

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! MATT WHO.. will rant about you to his brothers (he always did)

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! MATT WHO.. will take you on car rides

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! MATT WHO.. thinks your humor is the best (you always know how to make him feel better) (even if you don't know, you do)

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! MATT WHO.. looooveees youuuu

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! MATT WHO.. prefers texts from calls but won't say no if you want to call!!

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! MATT WHO.. loves your voice

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! MATT WHO.. is still awkward but as i said he opened up!!

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! MATT WHO.. will not leave you. You're the light of his life. Literally.

≡;- ꒰ °CHRIS STURNIOLO ꒱

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! CHRIS WHO.. you've met on a party or in a random place

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! CHRIS WHO.. you tought was lowkey weird on the start

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! CHRIS WHO.. yapped your ass off

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! CHRIS WHO.. opened up on a random sleepover at like 4 a.m.

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! CHRIS WHO.. speaking of sleepovers, you had them non-stop!! (usually at your house)

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! CHRIS WHO.. as he got older and more mature (somehow) started to value the nice things you said about him a little more

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! CHRIS WHO.. at first kinda ignored the compliments you were giving him (YOU FELL FIRST HE FELL HARDER YOU FELL FIRST HE FELL HARDER I REPEAT)

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! CHRIS WHO.. became your comfort zone

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! CHRIS WHO.. was loud and always laughed with you

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! CHRIS WHO.. listened to every song you recomended him (GREEN FLAG GREEN FLAG GREEN FLAG)

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! CHRIS WHO.. liked sleeping in your bed

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! CHRIS WHO.. have been your best friend for YEARS before he started to feel something more towards you

*✧･ﾟ: BSF! CHRIS WHO.. was completly oblivious to your feelings

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. was scared of his feelings

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. became a little more distant, scared that you didn't like him back

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. still hung out with you of course!

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. enjoyed every second he spent with you, thinking you would leave him if you knew about his feelings :((

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. became more flirty, trying to hide the sad feeling of fear

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. would did everything for you if you asked him

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. spoiled you with random rocks or stick that reminded him of you

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. had a crush on you for a lonnnggg time

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. knew you the best

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. had a long note in his notes app with everything you told him was your favourite

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. had your photo on his wallpaper

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. was touch starved

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. spoke to Nick about his feelings for you

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. 's biggest emotional support was nick

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. spent so many hours watching your favourite movies / shows with you

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. confessed to you after a few years of crushing on you

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. told you about his feelings on a sleepover at his house (Nick helped him ofc)

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. was really suprised when you wanted to be his girlfriend

*✧･ﾟ: CRUSHING! CHRIS WHO.. was stoned when he confessed

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! CHRIS WHO.. is still the same Chris but now he has more privilages

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! CHRIS WHO.. is still scared of you leaving him

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! CHRIS WHO.. needs reassurance!!!! reassure him rn!!!

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! CHRIS WHO.. enjoys smoking sessions with you more than anyone else

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! CHRIS WHO.. buys you food everytime you meet

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! CHRIS WHO.. does not want to hear a word of your self-critisism (if it's not healthy)

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! CHRIS WHO.. thinks you're the most beautiful person in the world!! (you are)

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! CHRIS WHO.. goes out with you every chance he gets

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! CHRIS WHO.. shows you off on his socials

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! CHRIS WHO.. still keeps your identity private (even tought you propably appeared in a older video on their youtube channel)

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! CHRIS WHO.. thinks you're the prettiest in everything

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! CHRIS WHO.. loves you sososososoo much

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! CHRIS WHO.. gives you free merch

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! CHRIS WHO.. is amazed by how well you get on with his family

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! CHRIS WHO.. still needs reassurance, even after long long time of dating

*✧･ﾟ: BOYFRIEND! CHRIS WHO.. just loves you so much :((

[walkingstackofbooks]

Frankly, there should have been some sort of required explanatory paperwork and consent forms in DBIP - besides Zimmerman contacting Julian's parents, it always bothers me that everything else Julian has to do seems to just come up as they're going, and honestly, I'm not sure Julian would have agreed if he'd been given any forewarning on what it would all include.

(I mean quite honestly he's barely enthusiastic about any of it, and I kind of feel that if he hadn't felt that he *had* to given Zimmerman had already showed up on the station and launched into the "chance of a lifetime" spiel, he might well have declined even if he could have opted out of the parents thing.)

But I digress. The point is, what if Dr Zimmermann did email Julian the forms to sign off on - just, while Julian was in the Dominion Camp. And the changeling impersonator simply deleted the email (well, emails plural) because it was irrelevant.

So then you've got Zimmerman getting impatient to start his project (it's bad enough he has to model it on someone else, let alone waiting for them to even grace him with a reply) until eventually he decides oh fuck it, I'll just forge his signature to send to my superiors, it's not like he's going to refuse once I've explained in person.

And then it just... never comes up. No-one asks and he certainly doesn't feel the need to ask why Bashir had ignored him (and maybe he does overhear something about camp 371, which means he's definitely not going to bring the missing email up) and then by time anyone might have thought to question his ethics, if Julian ever did mention that he'd explicitly asked for Zimmerman to avoid his parents or what have you, the whole enhancements thing will have come out and it would probably just seem like Julian was being, idk, petty, if he ever tried to bring it up to the powers-that-be. Not that I think he would. But you know, even if a friend did try to persuade him, I can't see that approach bearing fruit.

And ugh, I'm just so angry on his behalf, because while the way it worked out was probably actually better in the long run than him keeping his secret forever/it coming out in some way where that plea deal wasn't able to be made, I'd really like Zimmerman to have faced SOME repercussions more than just, y'know, not getting with Leeta. (Not to downplay the that Rom, my hero, made to this episode of course. Thanks, Rom, for your service. You had the greatest of timings)

[markantonys]

So bizarre to see fanboys jumping through hoops to find a way they can incorporate as many of Mat's plot points from TDR and TSR into their imagined version of s3 but NOT include Cauthor CPR. I'm sorry the cursed dagger on a spear makes you mad but you're okay with Min or Nynaeve saving him from hanging???

smh!!!! mat only does 1 important thing in all of TDR and TSR, and that is receive mouth-to-mouth from rand. and they would rather sacrifice that than any of his other stuff!

if it can't be rand, then nynaeve would be an okay substitute since she knows healing and hasn't had any chances for a good emotional moment with mat yet; however, imo if she has TOO many moments of successfully helping her friends via non-magical means, it would lessen the urgency of needing to break her block. thus, nynaeve saving mat with CPR would arguably be counterproductive to *her* arc of needing to break her block. (unless it instead is the trigger moment that causes her to break her block and she's thus able to heal him magically, but, while that's a sweet idea, it doesn't make much narrative sense for mat to be the one serving such an important emotional role in nynaeve's arc, no offense to him haha)

as for min, there's no need for the show to outsize her and mat's emotional connection i.e. they need to be good friends early on to make their series endgame work better, yes, but they do not need to be (and shouldn't be) each other's #1 most important emotional connection for two seasons straight. think of the heteronormative ship-baiting it would cause for show-onlys if mat and min had a focal emotional connection for two seasons straight culminating in her giving him mouth-to-mouth! ain't happening.

and all that being said..............as of now there's no reason to believe it can't be rand giving mat CPR! mat not being part of the waste storyline by no means precludes his doorway incident from occurring in a way that can involve rand. it could happen in the first couple of episodes before the gang's split up. it could happen in the finale with mat entering one doorway in tanchico and getting yeeted out into rand's lap on the other side of the continent because the pattern craves cauthor.

plus, with this scene being perhaps the single biggest and most iconic rand-mat emotional moment in the entire book series, i don't see why the show would instead give it to a different - and less important - mat relationship. (unless they absolutely had to because it turned out to be logistically impossible for it to be with rand, but, again, we have no reason to think that's the case.) if you look at the whole series, rand is more emotionally integral to mat and his story than nynaeve or min are, so why shouldn't he be the one mat has this big moment with? plus, if mat vs. couladin is in the cards for s4, iirc mat's implied motive there is that he intentionally hunted down couladin during the battle to help out rand even if he makes it sound like it was an accident, so s3 Cauthor CPR would set up a) how ride-or-die these two are for each other and b) mat feeling like he owes rand big time for saving his life, and wanting to do something major to return the favor.

overall, the fanboys often have really strange priorities when it comes to judging which book events are important to the overall story (Male Badassery) and which aren't (Everything Else), and their show predictions reflect those priorities very tellingly. i mean, my show predictions also reflect MY priorities very tellingly, but my priorities are a lot closer to rafe's than the fanboys' are, which hopefully leads to more accurate predictions. if you think a gay showrunner isn't going to do everything he possibly can to fit in the iconic-to-the-gays moment of rand giving mat mouth-to-mouth, you're kidding yourself!