#of how lovely and genuine their connection was

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I am not EVERY autistic person so this probably won't be a total coverage approach, but here's what I have learned:

People like to feel that you pay attention to and remember little but important things about them. And when someone is "small-talking" with you, it is often because they either want to offer you some of that info about themselves, or they want to pearn it about you so they can "return the effort". I think of it a bit like call and response with my cats! They don't understand me, and I don't understand them, but when I walk into the kitchen each morning, Lup runs towards me excitedly making her tiny little squeaks and trills. That's kitty small-talk! Many words of all varieties just say "I love you! I missed you! I'm happy to be here with you today!"

So I answer her! Sometimes I mimic her little sounds, and other times I pretend we're gossiping like church ladies (*gasp* NO, you're KIDDING, he said THAT?? What a scandal!") But whichever I do Lup gets excited and continues her little "conversation" with me.

People are harder. I had to really take time and practice different ways of responding before I found appropriate "call and response" for small talk, but I found that there are genuinely more options than you'd think. And the same thing happened! As I learned how to "call and respond" to small talk, I found that people would excitedly approach me to have it, and gradually we got to know each other enough that the "calls" coming from both sides got less general, more tailored to our personal preferences and interests, and I didn't have to small talk as much (but when I did it wasn't as scary either)

This isn't just my personal theory either! A fair amount of research in interpersonal/social in-group dynamics suggests that "bids for attention" like small talk function in this way of call-and-response intimacy/connection building. I have found that a LOT of social etiquette gets less scary to navigate when I at least understand the function of it. It also gave me some understsnding of why people might be hurt when I visibly don't WANT to "respond" to a "call" they've made: I'm the same way about my "calls" I just use different ones! The way I feel when I ask someone "would you want to hang out with me in the kitchen while I make lunch?" (Sad, a little anxious or vulnerable, maybe hurt if they've said no to a LOT of recent calls, etc) is the same way others feel when I decline theirs! That doesn't change if it was MISSED rather than DECLINED, but it can be repaired! Ao another thing I've taken to doing is naming for people the calls I have learned I'm most likely to miss. I know I have a hard time understanding/recognizing small talk as a call to attention, so I let people know that! And generally the people I connect best with are the ones who notice I missed a call and offer me an explicit/direct opportunity to reject it before internalizing what I've done as a rejection. This isn't really an option for everyone! And while I'm always delighted when someone is compatible with me in that way, I don't get upset if they're not, and work to not take it personally as something I'm doing wrong either.

Anyway, this got rambly at the end there, but the point is, most social interactions have a FUNCTION and while being autistic frequently means that we struggle to learn and interact in these systems as they currently exist, but that doesn't necessarily mean that we don't also depend on those functions. I think it can be easy to forget that part of the "disabling" effects of social/communication symptoms in autism is how it cuts us off from systems of support, care, and human interconectedness (things we still NEED) and it can matter to our quality of life to be able to find compatible alternatives to fulfilling those functions even if the original mechanism (small talk in this case) doesn't suit us.

Being bad at small talk doesn't mean you don't need friends, but it will probably make it very hard to MAKE friends. And we each and all deserve to decide for ourselves what to do about that.

I'm trying to figure out a good way to say "you really should actually learn the basics of small talk" with sounding like I'm biased against autistic people.

[maretinelli]

THIS IS LOVE

Lando Norris X Piastri!fem!reader

Summary: When Oscar's twin sister shares a feeling with Lando beyond friendship, the first to notice is the girl's own brother. And then, he and Lily help bring the two together.

Words: 2.7K+

Warnings: I think you can consider it something like friends to lovers, Y/n and Oscar being twins, Lily being cute, idiots oblivious to feelings haha and hanging out with friends (couple)

Author: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes that may be in the story. And you can request stories, just go to my profile and go to questions or messages. ❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

"This could easily be a couples' date," Lando commented casually as he slung his arm around Y/n's shoulders with a mischievous smile on his face.

Oscar rolled his eyes, but a smile escaped the corner of his lips. Y/n, in turn, laughed, pushing Lando's arm away from her shoulders.

"Hey, don't push it, Norris," she said, still laughing as the four of them entered the bowling alley, ready for the friendly competition that always ended in jokes and teasing.

--------

It was evident to anyone looking in from the outside: Lando Norris and Y/n Piastri had something special. It wasn't just the close friendship they'd built over the years - ever since Y/n started accompanying Oscar to the races - but the way they seemed to understand each other on a level that went beyond the norm. Their connection went beyond words or gestures, and everyone around them could tell there was something more between the two.

Everyone, except themselves.

Lando seemed unable to hide how much Y'n meant to him, even if he didn't realize it or admit it. He protected her, pampered her, flattered her in a way that only he could do, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

On the Piastri twins' birthdays, he never failed to send Y/n a gift, no matter where he was in the world. Of course, Oscar got something too, but Y/n's gifts were always absurdly more elaborate and full of meaning.

Like that last birthday, when Lando had sent Y/n a pair of Saint Laurent shoes that she had proudly worn during the FIA awards. At that event, although Oscar had offered her a seat as his guest, it was Lando who had taken her, making it clear to everyone that Y/n was important to him.

That same night, he surprised her once again. Before they walked onto the red carpet, he handed her a small black box with the Cartier logo in gold. Y/n's eyes widened as she opened it and found a stunning set of jewelry: A delicate diamond necklace and matching earrings.

"Lando... That's..." She began, completely stunned, not knowing whether to look at him or the present.

"Yeah, I know. It's beautiful, isn't it," he interrupted with a smile, shrugging like it was no big deal. "It's just a gift, Y/n. I wanted you to feel special today."

"You didn't have to..."

It's about you. You deserve this, Y/n. You deserve so much more, actually."

It was impossible to ignore how genuine he seemed, as if his only goal was to make her smile. And he succeeded. Y/n smiled, holding the small box like it was the most precious gift in the world because, for her, it wasn't just about the jewelry. It was about the gesture. And about him.

It was a night off from racing, a rare moment to relax. Oscar and Lando had suggested a game of bowling to unwind, and Lily and Y/n had happily accepted.

They chose one of the best break points in bowling, the atmosphere was a place with colorful lights, lively music and unlimited drinks, where it was easy to spend hours having fun.

As they picked out bowling balls, Y/n looked at Lando with a challenging smile.

"You know I'm going to beat you today, right?" She teased, leaning slightly towards him.

Lando arched an eyebrow, returning her smile. "Oh, really? I want to see you keep that confidence after the first round, Piastri Girl." He stepped so close that Y/n almost lost her breath, and then gently lifted her chin with one finger. "Good luck, princess" he murmured, before patting her back twice with a mischievous smile and moving on to pick up his bowling ball.

Yin stood there for a moment, somewhat stunned, while Lily and Oscar watched the scene from afar.

Oscar sighed, crossing his arms. "I know you've told me how much they love each other and don't realize it... But my stomach still turns seeing my sister with Lando."

Lily laughed and lightly slapped his shoulder. "Cut it out, Osc," she said, shaking her head in amusement. "You know, Lando can be a little... overly cheerful, but if they finally open up one day, he'll take great care of her. You can see it in his eyes."

Oscar rolled his eyes again, though a small smile formed on his face. He knew Lily was right, but that didn’t make it any easier for him. She was his sister, after all, and he had a reputation as a protective twin to uphold.

Oscar and Lily approached Y/n and Lando, who were still exchanging provocations in the short break before the game started.

"Lando, come with me to get the chips so we can start?" Oscar asked, pointing to the counter at the back.

Lando nodded, giving Y/n one last smile before following his friend. "Don't worry, Piastri Girl, I'll give you a chance to beat me today."

Y/n rolled her eyes with a smile as he walked away. Lily, taking advantage of the opportunity, sat on the bench next to her sister-in-law, who was now absent-mindedly fiddling with her cell phone.

Only one other group was on the opposite side of the room, while the venue played upbeat 2000s music. It was the kind of place where you felt comfortable enough to forget about time.

Lily watched Yin for a moment before smiling and dropping the bombshell, "You like Lando."

Y/n almost choked, stopping her cell phone and putting it in her pocket in a hurry. "What? No!" she replied, laughing a little, but with a touch of nervousness in her voice.

Lily just laughed, shaking her head. "I didn't ask. I'm saying! You like Lando."

Y/n bit her lower lip, looking away to where the counter would be and could hear Lando and Oscar laughing, while they took the chips. She sighed and looked away, confessing quietly: "Okay... I like him, but you can't tell anyone. I like having Lando around and, if this doesn't work out, I would lose his friendship."

Lily smiled, touching Y/n's arm affectionately. "Do you think no one notices? Everyone knows, Y/n. Only you two are oblivious to it."

Before Yin could respond, the two pilots returned with the tokens.

"Okay, guys," Oscar said, handing over the tokens. "Let's make this a competition: Female Engineers versus McLaren Drivers."

Y/n arched an eyebrow, laughing. "Oscar, I don't do engineering. Only Lily does."

Oscar shrugged. "Whatever, pick any name. It doesn't matter, because Lando and I are going to win anyway."

Y/n laughed and crossed her arms, exchanging a challenging look with her brother. The coexistence between the twins had always been marked by this slight competitiveness. Despite this, it was impossible to deny how close they were, always teasing each other, but with evident affection.

With the teams decided, the game began. Lando was the first to hit all the balls at once, and he turned to Y/n with a victorious smile.

"See? That's the difference between you and me. I make it look easy." He teased.

From afar, Lily and Oscar exchanged a knowing smile. Lily leaned towards her boyfriend and whispered, "I managed to make Y/n confess that she likes Lando."

Oscar raised his eyebrows in surprise, but then smiled. "Really? Let's try to get the two of them together today, then. I'll try to get something out of Lando too."

"Deal," Lily replied, walking to the lane to retrieve her ball.

"By the way..." She said out loud, turning to Oscar and Y/n "Just for the record, Y/n and I are ahead in the score."

Oscar burst out laughing. "Honey, that was just the first round for everyone!"

"And that makes me better than you!" Lily teased, laughing as she prepared to throw.

The room was filled with laughter, teasing and the light energy that only they knew how to create together. Far away, Lando watched Y/n as she focused on her turn, with that smile that he only seemed to use around her.

As time passed, the game continued to be lively. Laughter echoed through the cozy atmosphere, accompanied by the sound of balls rolling and pins falling.

Lando, as always, didn't miss the opportunity to tease Y/n every time he hit all the balls, while she only managed to knock down three.

"Seriously, Piastri Girl," Lando began, with a smug smile. "You have to try harder. I don't want you to say you only won because I'm nice."

Y/n huffed, crossing her arms. "I'm going to win, Norris, and it won't even be hard. I'm just giving you an advantage so you don't cry later."

Lando chuckled, giving him an amused look before moving on to his next move.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Lily and Oscar watched the game unfold. Without the two of them realizing, they were discreetly planning how they would make Lando confess his feelings for Y/n.

It was Y/n's turn, she confidently caught the ball and positioned herself. But as she threw it, she lost her balance and almost fell. Before she could hit the ground, she felt firm hands on her waist.

"Careful there, sweetie," Lando murmured, catching her and helping her regain her balance.

Y/n's eyes met his, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. The two exchanged an intense look, a mixture of surprise and something else that neither of them could name. They were so close, they could feel each other's breath.

The trance was broken by the sound of the ball hitting all the pins. Y/n smiled widely and raised her arms in celebration.

"STRIKE!" She screamed, running to hug Lily.

Lando chuckled as he watched the scene, but he looked a little dazed, his mind still stuck in the moment he had just shared with Y/n.

Oscar, attentive as always, noticed his friend's condition. Lando muttered something about getting more chips and headed for the counter. Piastri exchanged a knowing smile with Lily before following him, determined to seize the opportunity.

Lily, for her part, leaned against the bench with a mischievous smile, watching Y/n tie her sneakers.

"You felt your heart racing just now, didn't you?" Lily commented casually.

Y/n rolled her eyes, chuckling softly, not responding.

At the counter, Oscar approached Lando, who was distracted as he waited for the new chips.

"What's up? Everything okay?" Oscar asked in a casual tone.

Lando let out a short laugh and nodded. "All right, man."

Oscar crossed his arms, looking at him with a calculating expression. "So... Y/n is doing well today, huh? Or is it you who's distracted with her around?"

Lando paused for a moment, clearly uncomfortable. "What are you talking about, Oscar?" he asked, trying to hide it, but the slight blush on his face gave it away.

Oscar raised an eyebrow, noticing his friend's discomfort. "Ah, don't act like you don't understand, Norris. It's kind of obvious, you know?"

Lando laughed nervously and looked away, trying to appear casual. "Obvious what, Oscar? We're talking about bowling, remember?"

Oscar took a step closer, as if he were about to reveal a secret. "You know what I'm talking about. It's not bowling that's making you this way. It's my sister."

Lando snorted, shaking his head. "You're imagining things. Y/n and I are friends...close, that's all."

Oscar gave a cynical smile. "If you say so... But let me give you a warning: If you want something more, you better not play with her feelings. Because I won't hesitate to put you up against the wall if you hurt my sister."

Lando's tone grew more serious as he stared at Oscar. "I would never do that. Never."

Meanwhile, Y/n and Lily noticed how late they were. The Piastri girl looked at the delicate watch on her wrist.

"What's taking so long?" She puts her hands on her hips. "I'll take a look, I'll be right back, okay?"

Lily smiles, knowing it was a plan. "Sure, I'll take a break here."

Y/n smiles and starts to approach where they were. The counter wasn't facing the tracks, so they couldn't see the two pilots talking.

Walking down the hallway, she bumps into her brother, who is smiling mischievously. "Hey, look at you there!" She smiles and before she can say anything else, Oscar grabs her shoulders.

"I'll be with Lily if you need anything." He smiled and left.

Y/n frowns without understanding anything and opens her arms in question, as she watches her brother disappear into the hallway and return to the bowling alley.

"Y/n!" Lando's voice echoed behind her.

She smiles, oblivious to what had happened between her brother and Lando. "Hey, I thought you ran away from us!" Y/n laughs, lightly hitting his chest, but when she sees his nervous expression, her smile falls. "What's wrong?"

"I... need to talk to you. Now."

She stares into his green eyes, trying to understand what could be wrong, but nods. "Okay. Let's go."

They walk in silence to a quieter area of the venue, away from the noise of the bowling balls and the excited laughter. Lando stops, taking a deep breath, and turns to her.

"Y/n, before I say anything, I want you to know that... I never meant for this to happen. And I feel terrible about it, because you're Oscar's sister. But... ever since the first time I saw you, back at McLaren, at the first race... I haven't been able to stop thinking about you,"

Y/n's eyes widen in surprise as he continues, his voice becoming more hesitant.

"I tried, I swear I tried to ignore it. But you're amazing, Y/n. You make me laugh, you make me nervous in a way no one else can... And I know it's wrong... I guess... and that I shouldn't feel this way, but I can't help it."

Lando runs his hand through his hair, frustrated, his eyes fixed on the floor. "I'm sorry, I know this is absurd. And I... I don't expect anything from you. I just needed to get this out of my system. Because my love for you is overflowing."

He turns to leave, but Y/n quickly grabs his arm.

"Lando, wait!" He stops, reluctant, but doesn't look at her. "You're not the only one who feels this way," she says, her voice low, almost a whisper.

Lando looks up, surprised.

"Ever since that day... ever since you showed up at the McLaren garage and started talking to me like we were already friends... I knew you were different. And I tried to ignore it too, because you're my brother's best friend and you work with him, and that would complicate everything, but..." Y/n smiles shyly. "I guess my heart doesn't care much about rules. Because it loves you too."

Lando stares at Y/n in silence for a moment, as if trying to understand if what she said was real. Then, a nervous and relieved smile appears on his face.

"Are you serious?" he asks, his voice almost breathless.

She laughs, feeling her cheeks heat up. "I am. And I think Oscar already realized that, from the way he was acting just now.

Lando laughs too, feeling his nervousness dissipate. "He probably knows. He knows everything."

Y/n steps forward, staring at him closely. "So, what do we do now?"

Lando hesitates for a moment, but soon his fingers touch hers, intertwining them delicately. "I don't know. But I want to find out with you."

She smiles, and before he can think too much, Y/n pulls him into a slow, passionate kiss. Lando holds her tightly, as if he's been waiting for this moment forever.

[sofiatarot]

Pick a Card: Messages from Your Inner Child

1.2

3.4

Group 1

The emotional energy in this reading is overwhelming in the best way—so much love, hope, and joy are calling out to you. The presence of so many cups is a reminder of your ability to dream big and feel deeply. That child, the one that once believed in endless possibilities, is asking you to reconnect. They want you to remember how to envision a life filled with genuine happiness, where your heart leads the way.

A wave of nostalgia or familiar feelings might be washing over you lately. This isn’t meant to trap you in the past but to help you rediscover what has always made you feel alive. Think of it as a chance to reignite old passions, revisit the dreams you once held close, and merge them with the person you’ve become.

If you’ve been feeling stuck or unsure of your next step, there’s a gentle encouragement here to pause and reassess. Sometimes, the most meaningful progress comes from letting go of control and allowing things to unfold naturally. You don’t have to rush. You’re being guided toward clarity and purpose, and it’s closer than you think.

Rest is also a theme that keeps coming through. If life has felt overwhelming, take this as permission to slow down. Your most vibrant ideas and creations will come to life when you allow yourself the time to recharge. Listen to what your energy levels are telling you—your creativity thrives when you honor your limits.

The relationships in your life are also under the spotlight. There’s so much healing and joy to be found in the connections that matter most. Focus on nurturing those bonds that make you feel supported and understood, while releasing those that no longer align with who you are becoming.

You’re stepping into a chapter of self-confidence and creative power. All the obstacles you’ve faced have been building your resilience, and now you’re ready to take charge. The little kid that has always believed in your unique spark is urging you to embrace it fully.

And lastly, if you’ve been struggling with indecision, trust that your heart already knows the way. You’ve grown so much, and your inner wisdom is strong. Let it guide you forward with courage and an open heart.

Group 2

The emotional journey you’ve been on hasn’t been easy, but the little child that has always believed in your strength is here to remind you of your power. There’s a message about finding balance again, especially when it comes to honoring your needs. You’ve been through moments of doubt, but those do not define you—they are part of your growth.

You’re in a period of transformation, even if it feels messy or uncertain. This side of you, the one that sees change as an opportunity rather than a challenge, is encouraging you to trust the process. Even in moments of stillness or delay, there is progress happening beneath the surface.

Honesty with yourself is key. If you’ve been pushing emotions aside or avoiding certain truths, it’s time to face them with compassion. Vulnerability can be intimidating, but it’s also incredibly liberating. The part of you that feels deeply wants you to know that it’s okay to let those feelings out—they’ll lead you to clarity.

They also highlight your incredible perseverance. Despite the setbacks or challenges you’ve faced, you’ve continued to push forward. The strength you’ve built over time is a testament to your resilience, and it’s something to be proud of. Let this remind you that you can handle whatever lies ahead.

Your dreams and desires are calling out to you, and now is the time to realign with what truly matters. That small kid that used to dream freely wants you to listen closely—what do you really want, beyond the expectations of others? Take a moment to explore this question and let it guide your next steps.

There’s also encouragement to trust your inner light, the light they offer. Even when things feel heavy, that spark of creativity and passion within you remains strong. Don’t let setbacks dim your fire—you have so much to offer, and the world needs to see it.

Finally, this is a call to let go of self-judgment. Please, forgive yourself for the times you’ve stumbled or felt unsure. The little you that always wanted the best for your future is proud of how far you’ve come. Keep moving forward with an open heart and trust that brighter days are ahead.

Group 3

The path ahead is filled with potential, and this child that thrives on dreaming big and exploring possibilities is ready to guide you. This reading is about finding balance—between ambition and rest, dreaming and doing. The decisions you’re weighing right now are important, and deep down, you already know which direction feels most aligned with your heart.

The idea of partnership and connection comes through strongly. You don’t have to navigate this journey alone. Your inner child wants you to lean on others when needed. Whether it’s a friend, mentor, or partner, allow yourself to receive help and encouragement—it’s not a weakness but a strength.

Creativity is knocking at your door, and you’re being encouraged to open up to new possibilities. That playful, curious part of yourself wants you to experiment, take risks, and embrace imperfection. Progress doesn’t come from perfection; it comes from showing up and trying.

This is also a moment to evaluate what truly matters. If you’ve been juggling too many responsibilities, it’s time to prioritize. Let go of anything that feels heavy or misaligned with your goals. Simplifying your focus will bring clarity and energy to what truly lights you up.

Your sense of worth is another important theme. The version of you that always believed in abundance wants to remind you that you’re deserving of good things. Whether in your career, relationships, or personal pursuits, don’t settle for less than what you know you deserve.

They also acknowledge the mental challenges you’ve faced. If you’ve been feeling uncertain or overwhelmed, take a step back. They know that clarity often comes when you look at the bigger picture. Trust that the answers you’re seeking will reveal themselves in time.

Lastly, there’s a reminder to believe in your ability to overcome challenges. The courage and wisdom you’ve cultivated are tools that will carry you forward. You have what it takes to navigate any obstacle and create the life you’ve been dreaming of.

Group 4

You’ve overcome so much, and the part of you that has always been your biggest supporter is asking you to take a moment to acknowledge your resilience. Even in difficult times, you’ve found ways to rise and keep going. That strength is something to celebrate.

This reading speaks to releasing fear and stepping into your power. Limiting beliefs and self-doubt may have held you back before, but it’s time to let them go. You’re capable of creating the life you’ve always wanted, and that inner voice encouraging you knows it’s true.

Change is a central theme here. You’re in the midst of a powerful transformation, even if it feels uncertain or uncomfortable. This part of you wants to remind you that every ending leads to a new beginning. Trust the process and know that you’re being guided toward something greater.

Intuition is a powerful tool for you right now. Your inner guidance has always been strong, and it’s especially important to listen to it now. That quiet, knowing voice within you will lead you toward the right choices—trust it fully.

You’re also being reminded of your limitless potential. The part of you that once saw the world as full of adventure wants you to reconnect with that perspective. Don’t let fear or past setbacks keep you from reaching for your dreams.

Relationships and connections are a focus here as well. Surround yourself with people who uplift and inspire you. Let go of any relationships that feel draining or misaligned with your values. The people who truly care about you will support your growth wholeheartedly.

Finally, there’s a call to celebrate the abundance already present in your life. Gratitude is a powerful force, and by focusing on the good, you’ll attract even more joy and prosperity. Keep your heart open and trust that beautiful things are on their way.

xoxo 🌙

[lotuswish]

what loving you feels like to them [pt. 1 - scarabia]

featured character(s): jamil viper, kalim al-asim.

summary: ever wondered what it feels like for each twisted wonderland boy to fall in love with you? this series uncovers their feelings, influenced by their personalities, experiences, and desires. follow me to catch the next part!

cw: none.

a/n: my first post w my favorite boys <3 revised and reposted from my other acc, @jamilvapologist.

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─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── 𖥸 ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

jamil viper

loving you feels like both a rebellion and a sanctuary for jamil viper.

it’s rebellion because love, for him, is not something he was meant to indulge in freely. his life has been carefully calculated, structured around duty, subservience, and suppression of his desires. loving you feels like stepping out of the shadows that have defined him for so long, daring to claim something for himself in a world where his needs have always come second. it’s a quiet act of defiance against the chains of expectation, a decision to prioritize his own heart over the demands of others.

but loving you is also a sanctuary, a space where jamil doesn’t need to perform or conceal. around you, he feels seen—not as kalim’s attendant, not as scarabia’s vice housewarden, not as the person constantly managing everyone else’s chaos—but simply as himself. it’s an unfamiliar vulnerability that both terrifies and exhilarates him. you are his reprieve from a life of pretending, the one who notices when he’s tired without him needing to say it, the one who knows when he craves comfort instead of perfection.

loving you is not easy for him. it feels like a constant push-and-pull between his guarded instincts and the growing need to trust you, to let you see the cracks in his composed exterior. at times, it feels selfish, as though he’s stealing moments of happiness that don’t belong to him. yet, the warmth of your presence, the way you genuinely care, reminds him that this love is not a burden but a gift.

for jamil, loving you feels like breathing fresh air after years of suffocation. it’s freedom and fear. it’s knowing that, for the first time, he has something—someone—he’s terrified of losing. and even though it scares him, he cannot imagine a life without you. you are his rebellion. you are his sanctuary. you are the one thing he wants to keep, no matter the cost.

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─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── 𖥸 ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

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kalim al asim

loving you feels like sunshine to kalim al-asim—warm, boundless, and all-encompassing. it feels like something that’s always been there, waiting for him to reach out and hold it, like the happiness he’s known all his life but brighter, deeper, and more profound. kalim has always been surrounded by laughter and love, but loving you is different. it’s not the easy affection of a family feast or the shallow camaraderie of a crowd. it’s personal. it’s intimate. it’s you, and that makes it special in a way he can’t put into words.

for someone whose life has been filled with excess—wealth, luxury, and abundance—kalim has always craved something that couldn’t be bought or given to him out of duty: genuine connection. loving you feels like finally finding the one thing he’s been missing, the piece that makes everything else meaningful. it’s the way you see him for who he is, not as the heir to the asim family fortune or the endlessly cheerful boy who never seems to have a care in the world, but as kalim. you see him when he feels invisible, and that makes his love for you limitless.

loving you feels effortless and endless, but it also makes him vulnerable in a way he’s never experienced before. for someone who has always been generous to a fault, giving all of himself to you comes naturally, but for the first time, he realizes how much it hurts to be scared of losing someone. he’s not used to fear, but the thought of you slipping away leaves him restless. it makes him treasure every moment, every laugh, every time you smile at him like he’s your whole world.

loving you feels like freedom. it’s dancing in the streets, laughing without restraint, and knowing that no matter where life takes him, as long as you’re there, he’ll be happy. you make him feel like he doesn’t have to prove anything or live up to anyone’s expectations. loving you is joy in its purest form, a happiness that doesn’t come from wealth or extravagance but from the simple, profound act of being with someone who truly loves him back.

for kalim, loving you feels like discovering that the world is even bigger, brighter, and more beautiful than he ever thought possible. it’s exhilarating and overwhelming, but he embraces it without hesitation, because that’s who he is. loving you is a gift, one he cherishes with his whole heart, and he’ll do anything to make sure you feel the same.

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─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── 𖥸 ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

congrats, you made it to the end! if you enjoyed reading this, likes, follows, and reblogs are always appreciated! :)

[the-overanalyst]

with my post-ena5 understanding of mizuki's character, i've tried reexamining her key moments through that lens. that's what led me to the questions i'll try to answer here: what was mizuki feeling during the rooftop scene (the original one) and did ena's declaration there actually do her more harm than good?

the reason the rooftop scene is so important is because it changes mizuki's motivation. she infamously says "i lied to her," but it doesn't end up being a lie. all the way through this event, her goal was still to keep her secret under wraps. but from this point forward, her goal is to find the courage to share her secret.

it's comparable to how ena's motivations switches from seeking validation to seeking self improvement thanks to kanade's kind gesture in insatiable pale color. in that case, it's clearly a good thing: one need was met so she could focus on another further up maslow's hierarchy. mizuki's situation, unfortunately, is more complicated.

to explain why, we need to address mizuki's defining internal conflict. her desire for meaningful lasting connection is at war with her self-loathing and guilt. so when ena says she'll wait forever, part of mizuki is elated. as she almost admitted out loud, she wants to keep seeing the cherry blossoms together with n25.

at the end of secret distance, having accepted that n25 is important to her, mizuki was faced with a choice. she could either have genuine friendship, or she could keep her secret. once we get to footprints, it's clear she's chosen the latter. that's why her first shock in the scene comes when ena calls her a "friend." whether or not she thinks she deserves it, and despite her best attempts to sabotage its formation, the friendship exists. and the others are trying to make it last.

but mizuki pushes back. she insists ena can't really mean forever, she warns her it could be a really long time. implicitly, she's trying to tell her "i'm not worth it." this is the ugly side of the rooftop scene. because now that ena has made her dedication so clear, there's no way for mizuki to escape her guilt.

so what's the point? aside from making us all cry, what did this scene accomplish?

well, i've hinted at it already, but this the scene that makes mizuki realize, "i want to tell her. i have to tell her." sure, for a moment, it crosses her mind that ena would stay her friend forever if she simply didn't tell her, but even the thought makes her feel like an awful person. continuing on like that was never really an option. even if she doesn't know it by the end of the scene, she now has the motivation and will someday have the courage to move forward.

before this, she saw ena more the way mafuyu sees shizuku or others from school: she'll never really know me because i don't let the mask slip in front of her. afterwards, she sees her the way mafuyu sees kanade: she's trying for me, so i have to try too.

of course, she's still delaying and deflecting out of a desire to keep things the same, but one way or another, the "distance" arc is over. it's a gradual process from here, but as we see in world link and in mafu5, she really is trying.

in the grand scheme of things, i have to argue that ena's declaration had a net positive effect. mizuki's chronic nemesis is stagnation. painful or not, the rooftop scene forces her to make an effort to change. without it, she never would have found the genuine, trusting connections and unconditional love she now knows she has.

[muiitoloko]

Is there anymore difficult woman coming soon🫣👀

Title: Through Gilded Bars

Summary: Caught between passion and betrayal, a young wife struggles to reconcile her resentment with the unexpected warmth of her husband’s love.

Pairing: Karl Hoffmeister × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut

Author's Notes: I finally managed to finish this chapter 😮‍💨

First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, Eighth and Ninth part here.

Also read on Ao3

The next morning, the house was cloaked in a rare, serene quiet. The rhythmic patter of rain on the windows had softened to a gentle drizzle, and the faint scent of damp earth wafted through the window of your shared bedroom. You stirred awake, the warmth of the duvet enveloping you as you became aware of the solid presence beside you.

Karl was still asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily, the faint gray light of dawn casting soft shadows on his chiseled face. The gray hair at his temples glinted in the light, his mustache twitching faintly as he dreamed. His strong arm was draped possessively across your waist, holding you close as though even in sleep, he couldn’t bear to let you go.

You gazed at him for a moment, your mind replaying the events of the night before. The intensity of his touch, the vulnerability in his words—“I love you so fucking much”—lingered in your memory like a brand. You had never imagined this dynamic, this strange pull between you and Karl, could evolve into something so intimate, so tender, and yet so consuming.

Careful not to wake him, you slipped out of bed, grabbing a robe from the chair and tying it loosely around your waist. Your legs felt weak, your body sore in unfamiliar places, a reminder of the night’s passion. A soft blush crept up your cheeks as you glanced back at Karl, his face relaxed in sleep, looking younger and almost innocent.

You padded quietly to the bathroom to freshen up, splashing cold water on your face to steady the whirlwind of emotions still coursing through you. As you toweled off, a thought struck you—what now? What did last night mean for your marriage, for the tenuous relationship you had been navigating with this man?

The answer seemed both simple and impossibly complex. You couldn’t deny the connection that had formed between you and Karl, but what terrified you was the depth of it. How quickly the walls you had built around your heart had crumbled under the force of his devotion.

When you returned to the bedroom, Karl was awake, propped up on one elbow, his hazel eyes tracking your every move. His gaze was soft, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched you.

“Good morning, liebling,” he said, his baritone voice rough with sleep but warm with affection.

“Good morning,” you replied, your voice quieter, still unsure of how to navigate this new intimacy.

Karl patted the space beside him, his smile widening slightly. “Come here,” he said gently.

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the belt of your robe, but the vulnerability in his expression softened you. Slowly, you crossed the room and slid back into bed beside him. Karl immediately pulled you into his arms, his embrace firm and comforting, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his tone laced with genuine concern.

“Sore,” you admitted with a shy smile, your cheeks flushing as you avoided his gaze.

Karl chuckled softly, the deep rumble of his laughter sending a pleasant shiver through you. “That’s to be expected,” he said, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your arm. “But I meant... in here.” He placed a hand gently over your heart, his hazel eyes searching yours for any hint of unease.

You swallowed hard, your gaze dropping to where his hand rested against your chest. “I don’t know,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Last night was... a lot.”

Karl’s expression softened even further, his hand moving to cup your cheek as he tilted your face toward him. “I know,” he said quietly. “And I want you to know that nothing has to change unless you want it to. You’re still in control, schatz. Always.”

The sincerity in his voice took your breath away. For a man who was so used to control, to power, Karl’s willingness to let you lead this new dynamic was both surprising and deeply touching.

But the soft, tentative warmth of the morning faded the moment you shook your head and slipped out of Karl’s arms. The air seemed to chill between you as you adjusted your robe, the knot at your waist tightening with the same tension building in your chest. You turned away from him, your shoulders stiff with resolve.

“What’s wrong, liebling?” Karl’s voice, rough from sleep, cut through the quiet. He sat up fully, the sheets pooling at his waist, his hazel eyes narrowing as he studied you.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, lips pursed. “What’s wrong?” you repeated, your tone sharp as you crossed the room to the window. The drizzle outside mirrored the storm inside you. “What’s wrong, Karl, is that I let myself forget who you are—what you’ve done.”

Karl sighed heavily, the sound carrying both frustration and a hint of guilt. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, the weight of his body causing the mattress to creak. “I thought we were past this,” he said quietly, his baritone voice laced with weariness.

You turned sharply, your arms crossing over your chest as you faced him. “You thought wrong,” you snapped. “You’re still the man who destroyed my father’s business—my family’s livelihood—just to get to me.”

Karl’s jaw tightened, his hazel eyes darkening with emotion. “I wanted to do things differently,” he said, his voice rising slightly as he pushed himself to his feet. He towered over you, his chubby frame imposing but somehow softened by the vulnerability in his expression. “I wanted to court you properly, but your father wouldn’t let me near you! He called me unworthy, threatened to send you away.”

You scoffed, stepping closer to him, your chin tilted defiantly. “And that justifies what you did? Manipulating him, ruining everything he worked for? You didn’t just hurt him, Karl—you hurt me. You took away my choice.”

Karl ran a hand through his gray hair, his frustration evident in the way his fingers raked through the strands. “I rebuilt his business,” he shot back, his voice rough with defensiveness. “Your family is one of the richest in the region now because of me. I made things right.”

“It’s not about the money, Karl!” you snapped, your voice trembling with anger as you stepped closer, the intensity between you crackling like a live wire. “It’s about your manipulation. You didn’t ‘make things right.’ You decided what was right without considering anyone else—without considering me.”

Karl’s eyes dropped to your lips, his breath hitching as you leaned closer, your voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “You can’t buy my forgiveness, Karl. You can’t undo the damage you caused just because you feel guilty now.”

His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer until your bodies were nearly touching. His hazel eyes burned with a mix of anger and desire, his voice dropping to a husky growl. “You think I feel guilty? No, liebling, I don’t feel guilty for wanting you. I’d do it all again if it meant having you in my bed, in my life.”

Your breath hitched at the intensity in his gaze, but you refused to back down. “And that’s exactly why I can’t forgive you,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “Because you don’t see what you did as wrong. You think wanting me justifies everything.”

Karl’s grip on your wrist tightened slightly, his other hand moving to cup your cheek. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, his voice softening as his thumb brushed against your skin. “Everything I did, I did because I love you.”

“You don’t love me, Karl,” you shot back, your voice firm even as your body betrayed you, leaning slightly into his touch. “You love the idea of me. You love the control.”

He growled softly, his thumb tracing the curve of your bottom lip, his hazel eyes locked on yours. “You’re wrong,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you. And no matter how many times you argue with me, no matter how many sharp words you throw my way, I can’t stop loving you.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding as his lips hovered dangerously close to yours. “You can’t win this argument, Karl,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both defiance and something deeper, something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

His lips curled into a small, self-deprecating smile, his breath hot against your skin. “I know,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “I never can. You’ve always had the upper hand, liebling. Always.”

Your lips parted, ready to fire back another retort, but Karl closed the distance before you could speak. His mouth captured yours in a kiss that was equal parts desperation and surrender, his hands pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

You hated the way your body responded, hated the way his touch made you weak, made you forget every reason you had to push him away. But as his lips moved against yours, as his hands roamed your body with a possessive tenderness, you couldn’t deny the pull between you—the magnetic force that always seemed to bring you back to him.

And Karl, for all his faults, knew he was powerless against you. Even as he tried to assert control, to bend you to his will, he found himself hypnotized by you—by your strength, your fire, your lips that could silence him with a single word or ignite him with a single kiss.

He pulled back just enough to whisper against your mouth, his voice a low, breathless growl. “You drive me mad, liebling. Do you know that? Every time you argue with me, every time you defy me, it only makes me want you more.”

You smirked, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “Good. Maybe you’ll finally learn that you can’t always get your way.”

Karl chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin as he rested his forehead against yours. “With you,” he murmured, his voice full of reluctant admiration, “I never stand a chance.”

Karl’s baritone voice rumbled with satisfaction as he kissed you deeply, his strong hands sliding over your body with renewed hunger. “You’re mine, liebling,” he murmured against your lips, his tone thick with desire as he eased you back onto the bed. The warmth of his body enveloped you as he pressed his weight into you, one hand loosening the belt of your robe while the other tangled in your hair.

“Karl,” you began, your voice breathless but stern, “we shouldn’t—”

He silenced you with another fervent kiss, his mustache brushing tantalizingly against your skin. “Hush,” he growled, his hazel eyes dark with a primal intensity. “Let me worship you properly.”

The cool air kissed your bare skin as your robe fell open, and Karl’s large, warm hands roamed over your curves with deliberate care. He lowered his mouth to your neck, his lips and teeth teasing the sensitive skin there. “I can’t get enough of you,” he whispered, his voice rough as his lips moved lower, tracing a heated path down your chest.

You arched into his touch, your body betraying the protests on the tip of your tongue. “You’re insatiable,” you scolded, though your voice lacked conviction, trembling as Karl’s mouth found the peak of your breast, his tongue flicking over your nipple.

Karl chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “When it comes to you, yes,” he admitted, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, his touch firm and possessive. “You’ve ruined me for anything else, schatz.”

He shifted, aligning himself with you, and you gasped as he entered you in one slow, deliberate motion. The fullness of him was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that left you breathless. Karl groaned, his head falling to your shoulder as he began to move, his thrusts deep and unrelenting.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “So tight, so perfect for me.”

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you moaned his name, the intensity of his movements leaving you trembling beneath him. Karl’s lips found yours again, his kiss bruising and hungry as he drove you both toward release.

When the two of you finally collapsed into a breathless heap, Karl pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, his chest heaving with exertion. “Stay in bed, liebling,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ll have Liselotte bring you breakfast.”

You nodded weakly, too exhausted to argue, and Karl dressed quickly before leaving the room, his expression smug and content as he descended the stairs to the dining room.

Karl entered the dining room with a spring in his step, his usual commanding presence softened by a rare smile. Johann was already seated at the table, sipping his coffee, while Elisabeth sat stiffly across from him, her face pale and drawn.

“Good morning,” Karl greeted warmly, taking his seat at the head of the table. He exchanged a knowing look with Johann, who raised an eyebrow in silent question.

“Did you sleep well, Karl?” Johann asked, his tone light but laced with curiosity.

Karl smirked, reaching for the coffee pot. “Indeed,” he replied, pouring himself a cup. “And I’ve had a wonderful morning, too.”

Johann chuckled, shaking his head, but before he could respond, Elisabeth abruptly stood, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. Her face was flushed, her expression unreadable as she excused herself hurriedly.

Karl’s brow furrowed as he watched her leave, concern flickering in his hazel eyes. “What’s wrong with Elisabeth?” he asked, turning to Johann.

Johann shrugged, feigning ignorance. “She hasn’t been feeling well,” he said vaguely, though his tone suggested there was more to the story.

Karl frowned, waving over Anna and Liselotte, who had been standing nearby. “Anna, find out what’s troubling Elisabeth and prepare some tea for her,” he ordered, his tone firm. “And Liselotte,” he added, turning to the younger maid, “take breakfast upstairs to my wife, along with some ointments to help with any soreness.”

Both women nodded quickly, hurrying to carry out his orders. Karl leaned back in his chair, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of Elisabeth’s sudden departure and the lingering satisfaction of his time with you. He took a sip of his coffee, his hazel eyes flickering with a mixture of concern and smug contentment.

As Johann continued to watch him with quiet amusement, Karl couldn’t help but smile, his thoughts drifting back to the woman resting in his bed upstairs. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he knew one thing for certain: you were his, and he would do whatever it took to keep you by his side.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Liselotte was bubbling with excitement. As she helped you untie your robe and guided you toward the bathroom, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes alight with curiosity.

"You must tell me everything!" she exclaimed, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “What was it like? Did Herr Hoffmeister treat you well?”

You felt your face grow hot as you stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over your skin, washing away the tension and soreness of the night. “There’s nothing to tell,” you said quickly, your voice wavering as you tried to maintain your composure. “It’s none of your business.”

Liselotte let out a dramatic laugh, covering her mouth as if to stifle her amusement. “Oh, don’t be modest, ma’am! The whole house heard you last night—and this morning too!”

Your hands froze mid-lather, your heart dropping into your stomach. “What?” you asked, turning to gape at her through the steamy haze of the bathroom.

“The walls in this house are thin,” Liselotte said with a smirk, her tone teasing but not unkind. “Anna and I could hardly believe it—Herr Hoffmeister’s bed is notoriously quiet. But with you, well…” She wiggled her eyebrows.

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands, wishing the floor would swallow you up. “I can’t believe this,” you muttered. “It’s humiliating.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Liselotte said, her tone softening as she handed you a fresh bar of soap. “It’s perfectly natural. You’re married, after all. And, if I may say so, Herr Hoffmeister is a very lucky man. You’ve made him happier than I’ve ever seen him.”

Her words only deepened the flush on your cheeks. You busied yourself with rinsing your hair, avoiding her gaze as she chattered on. But eventually, her persistence wore you down.

“Fine,” you said with a sigh, leaning against the cool tile wall of the shower. “If you must know… Karl was kind. He was careful and gentle. He made sure I was comfortable.”

Liselotte’s eyes widened with delight, and she clasped her hands together. “I knew it! Beneath all that sternness, Herr Hoffmeister has a heart after all.”

You gave her a wry look. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. He’s still the man who ruined my father’s business and forced me into this marriage.”

Liselotte tilted her head, studying you with a thoughtful expression. “Does it feel different now? Between you and Herr Hoffmeister?”

You hesitated, unsure of how to answer. The warmth of Karl’s touch, the sincerity in his voice, and the way he had held you last night lingered in your mind, complicating your feelings. “I… don’t know,” you admitted finally. “I still hate him for what he did to my family—and to me. But not as much as before.”

Liselotte nodded, her expression encouraging you to continue.

“I hate feeling like a prisoner in this place,” you said, your voice softer now. “But somehow, it doesn’t feel as oppressive anymore. Karl… he’s not as cruel as I thought he’d be.”

Liselotte smiled knowingly as she handed you a towel. “Love works in mysterious ways,” she said, her tone teasing yet warm. “Maybe Herr Hoffmeister isn’t the villain you’ve made him out to be.”

You sighed, wrapping the towel around yourself as you stepped out of the shower. “Or maybe he’s just a villain who happens to be good at kissing,” you quipped, though the faint smile on your lips betrayed your conflicted emotions.

Liselotte laughed, helping you into a fresh dressing gown. “Either way, I think you’re beginning to see that life here isn’t so bad,” she said, her voice gentle. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll find a way to be happy.”

You didn’t respond, but as you made your way to the bedroom for breakfast, you couldn’t shake the strange feeling that she might be right. Whether you liked it or not, Karl had begun to chip away at the walls you had built around your heart—and that thought was both terrifying and oddly comforting.

The morning sunlight streamed softly through the lace curtains of your bedroom, casting a warm glow over the cozy space. You sat in bed, a tray balanced carefully on your lap. A small feast had been prepared for your breakfast: freshly baked bread, an assortment of cheeses, slices of cured ham, and a steaming cup of coffee. Beside the tray sat a small collection of jars, their labels handwritten in elegant script. You picked one up, examining the thick glass and its contents, curiosity piqued.

“What are these?” you asked, holding the jar up for inspection. You removed the lid and sniffed the contents, the sharp scent of mint filling the air.

Liselotte, busy rifling through your wardrobe, glanced over her shoulder. She held a flowing cream-colored dress in one hand and a light blue one in the other, her brow furrowed in concentration. “The ointments are to help with the bruises and soreness, ma’am,” she said absently, her tone almost casual, as though this were an everyday occurrence.

You raised an eyebrow, your hand instinctively brushing over your hip, where Karl’s firm grip had left a faint ache. “Bruises?” you asked, chewing on a piece of bread.

Liselotte smirked, setting the cream dress aside and holding up the blue one against the light. “Well, I heard the headboard was doing most of the heavy lifting last night,” she teased. “And judging by how loud the two of you were, I’d say Herr Hoffmeister wasn’t exactly gentle.”

Your cheeks flushed crimson, and you quickly lowered your gaze, fumbling with the jar in your hands. “I don’t need a play-by-play,” you muttered, though the corner of your lips twitched in amusement despite your embarrassment.

Liselotte laughed softly, finally deciding on the blue dress. She laid it across the chair by the vanity before turning her full attention to you. “If it helps, the ointment works wonders. Anna swears by it—used it after her back gave out from scrubbing the floors last winter.”

You nodded, uncapping the jar again and dipping your finger into the cool, smooth substance. The minty aroma was soothing, and as you rubbed a small amount onto your wrist, you felt an immediate cooling sensation. “It’s nice,” you admitted, setting the jar back on the tray.

Liselotte clapped her hands, a playful grin on her face. “I told you! Herr Hoffmeister spares no expense when it comes to your comfort.”

You rolled your eyes, not believing Liselotte’s exaggerated claims, but you humored her with a small smile, tearing off a piece of toast and handing it to her. “Here,” you said, shaking your head. “Take this and hush. You’re like a hen clucking in my ear.”

Liselotte accepted the toast with a mischievous grin, but she wasn’t deterred. If anything, her enthusiasm grew. “Oh, no, no, ma’am,” she said, biting into the toast and waving a hand for emphasis. “You don’t understand! Herr Hoffmeister went mad preparing for your arrival. He wanted everything perfect.”

You arched an eyebrow, leaning back against the headboard as you sipped your coffee. “Perfect?” you repeated skeptically, giving her a pointed look. “Karl Hoffmeister doesn’t strike me as the sentimental type.”

Liselotte let out a dramatic laugh, nearly choking on her toast. “Sentimental? No, perhaps not. But determined? Oh, absolutely. You should have seen it, ma’am. The whole household was in a frenzy! He had the entire garden replanted just for you.”

You blinked, taken aback. “The garden?”

“Yes!” Liselotte exclaimed, her eyes wide with excitement. She set the rest of her toast down and moved closer, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “Do you think those roses just magically bloomed overnight? No, Herr Hoffmeister ordered them all imported—imported, ma’am—from some fancy place in Holland. He said they were the finest in Europe, and only the best would do for his bride.”

You stared at her, unsure whether to laugh or roll your eyes again. “You’re making this up,” you said, though your tone was more amused than accusatory. “Karl Hoffmeister doesn’t strike me as the type to fuss over flowers.”

Liselotte’s jaw dropped, her expression a mixture of shock and playful outrage. She set down her toast dramatically, brushing the crumbs off her hands before marching over to the bed. “You don’t believe me?” she gasped, clutching her chest as though you had wounded her pride. “After everything I’ve told you?”

You smirked, leaning back against the pillows. “Liselotte, it’s not that I don’t believe you,” you teased, “but Karl Hoffmeister obsessing over flowers? It’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

Liselotte let out an exasperated sigh and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of bed with surprising strength. “Enough of this nonsense!” she declared, her cheeks flushed with determination. “If you won’t take my word for it, I’ll show you myself!”

Laughing, you stumbled out of bed, clutching your robe around you as Liselotte dragged you across the room. “Liselotte, for heaven’s sake!” you protested, though there was no real anger in your voice. “I’m not even dressed!”

“Hush, ma’am,” Liselotte replied, waving off your complaints as she placed you firmly in front of the bedroom window. She pulled back the lace curtain with a flourish, gesturing dramatically toward the garden below. “There! Behold the fruits of Herr Hoffmeister’s labor!”

You rolled your eyes at her theatrics but humored her, peering out the window. The garden stretched out before you, a sea of vibrant colors and carefully curated blooms. Roses in every shade imaginable lined the pathways, their petals glistening with morning dew. Tall, stately tulips swayed gently in the breeze, their colors so vivid they looked almost painted. A wisteria vine climbed gracefully over an ornate archway, its purple blossoms cascading like a waterfall.

Liselotte pointed to a cluster of delicate white flowers near the fountain. “Those are snowdrops,” she said, her voice brimming with pride. “Imported directly from Holland. And those over there—” she gestured to a bed of vivid orange blooms “—are marigolds. Hans himself planted them!”

You blinked, surprised by the revelation. “He did all this… for me?”

Liselotte nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes! Herr Hoffmeister was very clear. He wanted everything to be beautiful, perfect, and meaningful. He said you deserved nothing less.”

You stared out at the garden, your fingers lightly gripping the windowsill. You had looked at this view dozens of times before, but it had always seemed like part of the prison Karl had built around you. The beauty of the flowers had been overshadowed by your resentment, their colors dulled by the bitterness in your heart.

But now, as Liselotte pointed out each bloom and explained their significance, you found yourself seeing the garden in a new light.

“Those roses,” Liselotte continued, her voice softening, “he said they reminded him of you—strong, beautiful, and resilient.” She gestured toward the wisteria arch. “And that wisteria? It’s a symbol of devotion. He insisted it be placed where you’d see it every morning.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you took it all in. The meticulous care that had gone into every detail, the thoughtfulness behind each choice… it was overwhelming. For the first time, you truly saw the garden, not as a gilded cage, but as a gift—a testament to Karl’s effort to make you feel at home, to make you feel cherished.

Liselotte’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You’re not a prisoner here, ma’am,” she said gently. “Herr Hoffmeister didn’t build this place to trap you. He built it so you’d feel like the queen of this estate.”

You turned to her, your eyes wide with emotion. “I’ve been so blind,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been so angry with him… I never stopped to notice.”

Liselotte smiled warmly, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “It’s understandable, ma’am. But now that you see it, perhaps it’s time to let go of some of that anger. Herr Hoffmeister may be stubborn and overbearing, but his heart is in the right place.”

You nodded slowly, your gaze returning to the garden. The vibrant blooms seemed to shimmer with a new brilliance, their colors brighter than you had ever noticed before. You felt a small, unfamiliar warmth stir in your chest—a tentative hope that perhaps, just perhaps, Karl’s actions weren’t entirely selfish.

As Liselotte continued to point out the different flowers and their meanings, you found yourself smiling, truly appreciating the beauty of the garden for the first time. And for the first time, you allowed yourself to wonder if there could be more to this life with Karl than you had ever imagined.

Meanwhile, in her own bedroom, Elisabeth buried her face in the pillows, ignoring the tea Anna had carefully placed on her bedside table. The fragrant steam curled upward, but she didn’t care. Tea wouldn’t soothe the ache in her chest or silence the echo of Karl’s voice calling out your name.

Elisabeth curled her fingers into the soft fabric of the pillow, her nails digging into the material as if it could somehow absorb her frustration. Karl had broken her heart again without even realizing it, his obliviousness cutting deeper than a deliberate slight ever could.

It was cruel to love a man who didn’t love you back—crueler still when that man looked at another woman with the kind of devotion Elisabeth could only dream of. He didn’t see her. Not as a woman. Not as someone who could match his fire, his passion. To him, she would always be the little girl who trailed behind him in the gardens, begging to ride horses and hear his stories.

The memory made her stomach churn with humiliation. She could still hear the teasing affection in his voice as he ruffled her hair, calling her mein kleines Mädchen—his little girl. It had been years since then, and Elisabeth had grown. She was no longer the child he remembered; she was a woman now—a woman with desires, with ambition, with the determination to claim what she wanted.

And what she wanted was Karl Hoffmeister.

Elisabeth buried her face deeper into the pillows, her lips trembling as a fresh wave of tears threatened to spill. But amid the heartbreak, there was a spark of defiance, a smoldering flame fanned by the memory of something Karl had said to her days ago.

"All’s fair in love and war."

The words rang in her ears, looping endlessly in her mind until they became a mantra. At the time, she’d thought nothing of it. Now, the phrase took on new meaning, seeping into her thoughts like a poison—or perhaps an elixir.

If all was fair in love and war, then she wouldn’t give up. She wouldn’t stand by and let you win Karl’s heart without a fight. Karl might not see her now, but he would. She would make him see her—make him crave her—no matter what it took.

Elisabeth pushed herself up from the bed, her tear-streaked face hardening with resolve. She smoothed her dress, the silk clinging to her figure in a way she knew was alluring. Standing before the mirror, she studied her reflection, noting the flush in her cheeks and the brightness in her eyes. She was beautiful. She was desirable. And Karl would realize that soon enough.

But how? How could she make him look at her the way he looked at you? How could she shatter the image of the little girl he’d once known and make him see the woman she had become?

The answer was simple: she would seduce him. Slowly, deliberately, she would chip away at his defenses until there was nothing left but raw desire. She would play on his weaknesses, his unspoken fantasies, until he couldn’t resist her. And when the moment came, she would make him hers.

Elisabeth licked her lips, imagining the feel of his calloused hands on her skin, the weight of his body pressing her into the mattress. She could almost hear the growl of his voice, low and commanding, as he whispered filthy promises against her ear.

"You think you can tease me, mein Schatz? Think again."

Her breath hitched at the thought, heat pooling low in her belly. Karl was a man of control, but she had seen the cracks in his armor—the way his hazel eyes darkened with lust, the way his mustache twitched when he was holding himself back. She wanted to push him to his breaking point, to make him lose that ironclad restraint and take her the way she knew he wanted to.

"Do you know what you’ve done to me, Elisabeth?" she imagined him growling, his large hands gripping her waist as he pulled her flush against him. "I’ve been dreaming of this—of you—for far too long. Now that I have you, I’m never letting go."

Elisabeth shivered, the vivid fantasy leaving her breathless. She knew Karl would resist at first. He would try to cling to his sense of propriety, to the idea that you were the only woman for him. But she was patient. She would wear him down, inch by inch, until there was no room in his heart—or his bed—for anyone but her.

"You’re mine now, mein Liebling," she murmured to her reflection, her lips curving into a sly smile. "All’s fair in love and war, remember?"

With renewed determination, Elisabeth turned away from the mirror and rang the bell for Anna. There was much to do, and she couldn’t afford to waste time wallowing in self-pity. If Karl Hoffmeister wanted a war, then she would give him one. And this time, she had no intention of losing.

The kitchen was alive with the usual morning hustle. The warm scent of freshly baked bread and brewed coffee mingled with the faint aroma of herbs wafting from the simmering pots. Gustav, the head cook, worked with the precision of a master conductor, directing the staff like an orchestra.

Anna leaned against the counter as she polished silverware, her sharp eyes glinting with mischief. "I tell you, Gustav, with all the racket the bosses were making last night—and this morning too—it won’t be long before we see little ones running around here."

Hans paused in the middle of meticulously arranging a tray. He turned to Anna, his expression a mix of disapproval and exasperation. "Anna," he said sternly, his voice low and clipped, "it is highly inappropriate to comment on the personal lives of Herr Hoffmeister and his wife. Show some decorum."

Anna rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed by his reprimand. "Oh, lighten up, Hans," she retorted, waving a hand dismissively. "You’re acting like I’ve committed some great sin. Everyone knows the bosses are finally getting along. That’s reason enough to celebrate, don’t you think?"

Gustav chuckled from his position by the stove, shaking his head as he stirred a pot of soup. "I think Anna’s just eager to see babies crawling around the halls, making a mess of all her hard work."

Anna grinned, not the least bit offended. "And why not? This house has been far too quiet for far too long. A couple of chubby little Hoffmeisters would do us all some good."

Hans sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You’re incorrigible," he muttered, shaking his head. "First I’m chasing Frau Hoffmeister through the gardens at Herr Hoffmeister’s orders, and now the two of them are… rolling around in bed like a couple of lovesick teenagers. It’s confusing."

Anna’s grin widened, and she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Confusing? Oh, Hans, you should’ve heard them. It wasn’t just the bed creaking. I thought the headboard was going to come clean off the wall!"

Gustav let out a hearty laugh, nearly doubling over as he stirred the soup. "Anna, you’ll be the death of me," he said, his voice booming through the kitchen. "Poor Hans here looks like he’s about to faint."

Hans’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he straightened his posture, his composure slipping under the weight of Anna’s teasing. "This is a respectable household," he said stiffly. "We should not engage in such… crude speculation."

Anna smirked, unbothered by his admonishment. "Crude? Oh, come now, Hans. Even you must admit it’s nice to see Herr Hoffmeister with a smile on his face. He’s been brooding for months, and now he looks like a man who’s just won the lottery."

Hans opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. He closed it again with a huff, shaking his head as he resumed arranging the tray. "You’re impossible," he muttered under his breath.

Anna’s grin only widened as she picked up a cloth and began polishing the silverware with exaggerated vigor. "Call me what you like, Hans," she said, her tone playful. "But mark my words—before long, there’ll be little feet pattering through this house. And you, my dear butler, will be chasing after them just like you chased after Frau Hoffmeister."

The image of Hans, red-faced and flustered, running after mischievous children caused Gustav to laugh so hard he had to set down his ladle. Even Heinrich, the older stable hand who had just entered the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, let out a deep chuckle.

Hans sighed again, though this time there was a faint, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He didn’t understand the dynamic between you and Karl—the constant push and pull, the fiery arguments followed by moments of intense passion. But one thing was clear: whatever was happening between the two of you was shaking up the household in ways no one could have predicted.

Upstairs, Liselotte was still bustling about your room, her chatter filled with excitement as she helped you dress. But even her enthusiasm couldn’t drown out the faint echo of laughter and clinking dishes from the kitchen below—a reminder that the staff had their own opinions about the newfound warmth between you and Karl. If only they knew how complicated things truly were.

The morning sun broke through the clouds, bathing the Hoffmeister estate in a soft, golden light. Inside his office, Karl sat at his mahogany desk, a thick pile of documents spread out before him. These were contracts and accounts from his factory—papers he had neglected for far too long. But now, with the estate quiet and his cousins in town, it seemed like the perfect time to focus.

Except he couldn’t.

Karl leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. His hazel eyes kept drifting to the door, his thoughts wandering upstairs to where you were resting. He had left you alone, wanting to give you time to recover and process everything. But the pull to check on you was growing stronger with every passing minute.

With a frustrated sigh, Karl tossed the pen onto the desk and pushed himself to his feet. He needed a break, and he needed to see you. His heart was a strange mix of concern and anticipation. He made his way upstairs, his heavy footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. Reaching the bedroom door, he knocked softly before pushing it open.

The room was empty.

Karl’s chest tightened as a sense of déjà vu washed over him, memories of your attempted escape flooding back. He was about to call for Hans when Anna appeared in the hallway, carrying fresh linens.

“Anna,” he said sharply, his baritone voice tinged with urgency. “Where is she?”

Anna blinked, startled by his tone, before offering a reassuring smile. “She’s at the stables, Herr Hoffmeister. The puppy got himself into a bit of a mess playing in the mud. She insisted on washing him herself.”

Karl exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief coursing through him. “Thank you,” he muttered, his voice softening. He turned on his heel and headed downstairs, a wry smile tugging at his lips. Of course, you would be at the stables, caring for that little troublemaker.

The closer Karl got to the stables, the more he could hear your voice. It was soft but firm, tinged with amusement as you scolded Mouse. “Stay still, you little rascal! If you keep squirming, I’ll just leave you muddy.”

Karl chuckled under his breath, stepping carefully over the muddy puddles that dotted the path. As he entered the stable, the sight before him made him pause. You were crouched beside a wooden trough, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly damp from the humidity. Mouse, the tiny puppy, was a muddy mess, squirming as you tried to rinse him off with a bucket of water.

“You look like you’re losing this battle,” Karl drawled, his baritone voice carrying a hint of amusement.

Startled, you turned to see him leaning against the stable doorframe, arms crossed and a playful smirk on his lips. “If you’re just here to tease, Karl, you can leave,” you retorted, though the corner of your mouth quirked up in a smile.

Karl pushed off the doorframe and walked toward you, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt. “Nonsense. I wouldn’t dream of leaving you to handle this alone.”

Before you could protest, Karl crouched beside you, his larger hands easily holding Mouse in place. “Now, you focus on cleaning him. I’ll keep him still,” he said, his tone commanding but not unkind.

You huffed but obliged, scooping water from the bucket and pouring it over Mouse’s muddy fur. The puppy let out an indignant bark, shaking vigorously and splattering both of you with water and mud.

“Mouse!” you exclaimed, wiping your face with the back of your hand.

Karl let out a deep laugh, the sound rich and warm. “I think he’s winning,” he teased, his hazel eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Oh, really?” you shot back, grabbing a handful of water and flinging it at him. The droplets hit his shirt, leaving dark, wet splotches.

Karl’s eyebrows shot up in mock offense. “You dare?” he growled, scooping a handful of water from the trough and splashing it at you.

A shriek escaped your lips as the cold water hit your chest, soaking the front of your dress. “Karl!”

He grinned wickedly, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Fair’s fair, liebling.”

But you weren’t one to back down. Grabbing another bucket, you flung its contents at him, drenching his shirt completely. The fabric clung to his chest, revealing the broad, solid frame beneath.

Karl’s laughter rumbled as he retaliated, and soon the two of you were engaged in a full-blown water war.

The stable air smelled of hay, earth, and faint traces of rain. You and Karl were laughing so hard your sides ached, your laughter mingling with the sound of Mouse barking and darting between your legs. The bucket of water you had hurled at Karl left his shirt clinging to his broad chest, the wet fabric outlining the strong frame you’d been too angry to appreciate before.

At the back of the stables, Heinrich smiled to himself as he finished brushing a chestnut mare. His weathered hands moved in smooth, practiced strokes, his eyes glancing occasionally at you and Karl. The two of you were soaked, splashing water at one another like children, Mouse bouncing around and barking gleefully. The dog’s antics made Heinrich chuckle softly.

“Come here, Mouse,” he called, his deep, gravelly voice calm and familiar. Mouse hesitated for a moment before bounding over to him. Heinrich scooped the muddy pup into his arms, giving you and Karl a knowing smile as he exited quietly through the back. He’d leave you to enjoy this rare, unguarded moment.

With Mouse gone, Karl’s hazel eyes flickered with a mischievous light as he turned back to you. Water dripped from his gray hair, and his mustache was damp, giving him a slightly disheveled but oddly roguish appearance. “Now, liebling,” he drawled, his baritone voice low and teasing, “I believe you’ve drenched me enough.”

You raised your chin defiantly, unable to suppress your grin. “You deserved it,” you quipped, stepping back slightly, but your soaked dress clung to your legs, limiting your movement.

Karl’s gaze darkened as his eyes roamed over you, the wet fabric leaving little to the imagination. Your dress, now nearly transparent, hugged your curves, the swell of your breasts and the soft lines of your thighs clearly visible. His throat worked as he swallowed, his voice rough when he spoke. “You’re testing my patience, schatz.”

You arched an eyebrow, your lips curving into a playful smirk. “Oh? And what are you going to do about it?”

Karl didn’t answer with words. Instead, he lunged forward, his large hands gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him. The heat of his body contrasted sharply with the chill of your wet clothes, making you gasp. His hazel eyes burned into yours, and his voice dropped to a husky growl. “You’ve made quite the mess, liebling. Now, I think it’s time you cleaned it up.”

Before you could retort, his mouth captured yours in a searing kiss. It was rough, demanding, and full of the passion that had been building between you. His hands slid down your hips, his fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as he pressed you against one of the wooden support beams.

“Karl,” you murmured breathlessly when he broke the kiss to trail his lips down your neck. His mustache tickled your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You tried to maintain your composure, but the way his teeth grazed the sensitive spot below your ear made your knees weak.

He chuckled against your neck, the sound vibrating through you. “You can’t tease a man like that and expect to walk away unscathed,” he murmured, his hands sliding down to your thighs. With a swift motion, he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

“Karl, we can’t,” you protested weakly, but your hands tangled in his damp hair, betraying your words.

“Why not?” he growled, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “No one’s here. Just you, me, and this stable.” His hands roamed your thighs, pushing your dress higher as he carried you toward one of the empty bays filled with fresh hay.

The world outside faded as he laid you down gently on the soft hay, his large frame hovering over you. His hazel eyes locked onto yours, filled with a mix of desire and tenderness that left you breathless. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he traced a finger along your jawline.

Your heart pounded as you reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing over the faint stubble on his cheek. “And you’re insufferable,” you whispered, though your tone was soft, almost teasing.

Karl smirked, leaning down to kiss you again, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that made your body arch against him. His hands explored your curves, his touch firm but reverent as he peeled the soaked fabric of your dress away from your skin. Every inch of you that was exposed to the cool air was soon warmed by his touch, his lips following the path of his hands.

“You’re mine,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough with need. “Every inch of you, mine.”

You shivered at the possessiveness in his tone, your own desire flaring as your hands worked to unbutton his soaked shirt. The fabric clung stubbornly to his broad shoulders, but you managed to push it off, revealing the strong, slightly weathered body beneath. Your hands roamed over his chest, the warmth of his skin igniting a fire in your belly.

“Karl,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both anticipation and need.

He silenced you with another kiss, his hips pressing against yours in a way that left no doubt about his intentions. His movements were deliberate, slow but confident, as he aligned himself with you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. When you nodded, giving him silent permission, he entered you with a slow, deliberate thrust that left you gasping.

The intimacy of the moment took your breath away. Karl’s usual dominance was tempered by an unexpected tenderness, his movements careful and controlled as he worshipped every inch of you. The hay beneath you was soft, the scent of earth and horses mixing with the faint saltiness of his sweat as you moved together, your bodies finding a rhythm that felt both natural and exhilarating.

His hands gripped your hips as he thrust deeper, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was almost desperate. “I love you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice raw and vulnerable. “I love you so damn much.”

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his words, and you found yourself whispering his name like a prayer as the tension between you built to a crescendo. When release finally came, it was overwhelming, your cries mingling with his low, guttural groans as you clung to each other, your bodies trembling with the force of it.

For a long moment, the two of you lay tangled together in the hay, your breaths mingling as you slowly came back to reality. Karl brushed a strand of hair from your face, his hazel eyes soft as they gazed into yours. “You drive me mad, liebling,” he said softly, his voice filled with both amusement and affection.

You smiled, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “Good,” you murmured, your voice still breathless. “Someone has to keep you on your toes.”

Karl chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “You’ve done more than that,” he said, his tone serious now. “You’ve changed everything.”

As you lay in his arms, surrounded by the scent of hay and the fading warmth of your passion, you couldn’t help but feel that he was right. Everything had changed—and for the first time, you weren’t entirely sure that was a bad thing.

Karl’s body kept you warm, his broad chest rising and falling against your cheek as his lips brushed over your shoulder in slow, tender kisses. His mustache tickled your skin, drawing a giggle from you, though your mind was only half-focused on his attentions.

Your gaze wandered to the other stalls across from you. That’s when you saw it. The horses. They stood there, large dark eyes fixed on you and Karl, their heads poking out over the stall doors like curious spectators. One mare flicked her tail, her ears swiveling forward, while a large stallion gave a loud snort, shaking his mane as if in disapproval.

You froze, heat rising to your cheeks. "Karl," you hissed, your voice urgent but quiet.

He hummed lazily, clearly distracted as he kissed the curve of your shoulder. "Hmm?" His baritone voice was a deep rumble against your skin.

"Karl!" you repeated, a little louder this time. You grabbed the edge of the blanket he'd draped over the two of you, clutching it to your chest and trying to shield your bare body from view.

"What is it, liebling?" he asked, finally lifting his head to look at you, his hazel eyes still clouded with contentment.

You nodded toward the stalls. "The horses," you whispered harshly, your voice rising in pitch. "They're staring at us!"

Karl turned his head slowly, his brows furrowing in mild confusion. Sure enough, the horses remained unmoving, their unblinking eyes fixed on the two of you. One of them gave a soft whinny, as though in agreement with your observation.

Karl blinked, his expression blank for a moment. Then, to your disbelief, he burst into laughter—a deep, hearty sound that filled the stable. He leaned back slightly, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe the absurdity of your concern.

"Karl!" you hissed again, your embarrassment deepening. "It's not funny! They're... they're watching us!"

He chuckled, his broad shoulders shaking with amusement. "Liebling," he said, his voice thick with laughter, "they’re horses. They don’t know what we’re doing."

"How do you know that?" you shot back, your tone defensive as you gestured wildly at the equine audience. "They look far too interested for my liking!"

Karl raised an eyebrow, clearly struggling to keep a straight face. "What do you think they’re going to do? Write a report? Tell Heinrich?"

You glared at him, your cheeks burning. "It’s not about what they’ll do, Karl. It’s the principle of the thing. They shouldn’t... see this!"

He turned to look at the horses again, this time with a more serious expression. He studied them for a moment, his hazel eyes narrowing slightly as if he were considering your point. Finally, he let out a mock sigh and shrugged. "Well," he said, his tone deadpan, "I suppose I could have them moved to the other side of the estate if it bothers you that much. Perhaps Heinrich could arrange for some privacy screens."

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "This isn’t a joke!"

Karl leaned closer, his warm breath brushing against your ear. "Oh, but it is, liebling," he murmured, his voice rich with amusement. "A very funny one."

You peeked at him through your fingers, your glare only making him laugh harder. His whole body shook with mirth, and you couldn’t help but feel a tiny, grudging smile tug at the corners of your lips, despite your mortification.

Suddenly, a sharp cough interrupted the moment, and you both froze. Your heads whipped around to see Heinrich standing in the stable doorway, Mouse tucked under one arm and a bucket of water in the other. His weathered face was impassive, but his gray-blue eyes twinkled with barely concealed humor.

"I see the two of you have been... busy," Heinrich said, his voice gruff but tinged with amusement.

Karl cleared his throat, quickly pulling the blanket up to cover the both of you more modestly. "Heinrich," he said smoothly, though the faint pink tint in his cheeks betrayed him, "what can I do for you?"

Heinrich raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between the two of you and the very muddy patch of hay you were lying on. "Just thought I’d bring Mouse back," he said casually, setting the puppy down. "Didn’t mean to interrupt... whatever it is you’re doing."

You buried your face in Karl’s chest, groaning in embarrassment. Karl, for his part, simply gave a small, sheepish smile. "Thank you, Heinrich," he said, his tone as dignified as he could manage under the circumstances.

Heinrich nodded, tipping his cap. "I’ll leave you to it, then," he said, his voice carrying a faint chuckle as he turned to leave. As he exited, you swore you heard him mutter, "Young love... always causing a mess."

Karl looked down at you, his hazel eyes filled with both amusement and tenderness. "Well, liebling," he said, his baritone voice low and teasing, "it seems we’ve given everyone in this stable quite the show."

You groaned again, swatting at his chest. "This is all your fault."

He laughed, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to your temple. "I’ll take full responsibility," he promised, his voice warm with affection. "But I must say, it was worth it to see you like this."

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but smile, your earlier embarrassment fading in the warmth of his embrace. "You’re impossible," you muttered, though your tone lacked any real bite.

Karl chuckled, his hand gently stroking your hair. "And you, liebling, are irresistible," he murmured, his voice soft. "Horses and all."

[wlwsoccerfics]

I am Okay (GiuliaGwinnXCasparijReader)

A/N:you asked for more Giuli Content so here it is.

Warnings: injury, google translate used,talks about pregnancy

Summary: a friendly Game against your wife's national Team doesn't go as planned

you and giulia have been married for two years, together for almost 6 years. things have been perfect. you couldn't be happier. Both of you have been playing for FC Bayern Munich.

Your team and her Team stood in the Tunnel with your mascots by your side. Giulia happened to stay next to you. So you lean over to peck her lips. Which she happily returned. "Good luck, my Love!" She told you. "Good luck to you too, liefje(darling)!" You replied and offered her a gentle smile. Then you talked to your mascot a little bit, kneeling down so you could be his height. The sight of you and the little boy was melting Giulias heart. Kerstin, your older sister & Jill, your best friend both gave eachother a knowing look. They were quite sure that you would have a baby on the way quite soon, or that you would adopt one because it sure came up a few times.

After you walked out of the tunnel & the national anthem for each country was played you said bye to your mascot and offered him a gentle smile.

The Game started and things were going great. You and Lena didn't gift eachother anything and were fighting quite hard for the ball. You managed to get past her and pass the ball to Kerstin who passed it to Jill who scored. The ball went into left bottom corner, hitting the back of the net. Your team was celebrating. 1-0 for the netherlands. That was 20 minutes into the game. After that you felt Lena becoming more intense with her tackles. You got the ball from your sister and started running, wanting to pass it to Jill again but before you got the chance you felt her soccer boot connect with your foot. You went to the floor straight away. "Oh my god! Y/n, i am sorry!" Lena told you, your FC Bayern Munich teammate genuinely felt bad about it. "Babe! Are you okay?" Giulia asked, worry written across her face. "I am fine. Probably just a bruise." You told her, wincing slightly. You weren't actually okay but didn't want to Stop playing. Kerstin glared at Lena. She wasn't happy that you got hurt. You let out a small groan when you tried to take off your boot. "Uw voet zou gebroken kunnen zijn(Your foot might be broken)!"Jill told you. Giulia gently kneeled down and took your hands in hers to stop you from taking your boot off. Kerstin waved over the medics. "ik hoop het niet(i hope not)." You replied and wiped away a tear you didn't know was even rolling down your cheek. Your wife kissed your forehead, while making sure there is enough room for the medics. They managed to got the boot of and it did look like you had two broken toes.

After you managed to hop of the field with the help of the medics and into the medic room they checked you over. Turned out you indeed had two broken toes and had to wear a walking Boot for 4-6 weeks. Something you weren't happy about. It was half time when the door opened again and your sister and wife walked in together, followed by Lena. "I am so sorry! How bad is it?" Lena wanted to know. "Two broken toes, have to wear a walking boot for 4-6 weeks. So could be better. But don't worry about it! I know it was an accident!" You replied. "But kisses would sure make it better!" You added, looking at your wife. Giulia walked closer, taking your face in her hands and kisses you softly. Of course you kissed back. "You two are disgustingly cute!" Your sister replied. "You mean like you and Ruth?" You stated teasingly. Which made you and her giggle. "We are winning by the way. 2-0 so far!" Kerstin informed you. "That's good!" You looked at your wife. "You should step up your Game, Giulia Ronja Gwinn-Casparij!" You told her and she lovingly punched your shoulder. "Don't get cocky or you will sleep on the Couch tonight!" She said and grinned softly. You fake a pout. "Oh wow! Now that i am damaged i am not allowed in bed anymore? How rude!" You couldn't help but start laughing when you spoke up though.

Before the second half both Giulia and Kerstin helped you to the bench, so you can watch the second half from there.

It was rather uneventful and no more balls found the way into either net. After you won the game you made a quick round around the field with Jill & Kerstin. When you guys were done you walked back into the changing rooms. You managed to shower and get dressed before Giulia went to help you to get on the bus. Later today you were gonna meet up with a few of your national teammates for Dinner. Of course you were gonna bring your wife.

Back at the Hotel you and Giuli sat on the Couch, your Leg was resting on a pillow. "Love? I really have been thinking about it alot and i really want a Baby!" She told you. You smiled at her. "I really want one as well! And i can carry if you would like!" You let her know. "So we try for a Baby while you recover?" She asked, smiling at you. You nodded her head and kissed her, she kissed back. Cuddling on the Couch before you left to have Dinner with your dutch teammates and their partners.

[lizsos]

I'm Dangerous pt.2

▪︎warning : dirty talk, phone sex , masterbution, g!p , mdni.

▪︎ Genre : smut

Every time you visited Bada she'd do the same thing every damn time until one day you told her that they'd be assigning you to a new prison .

She was furious you tried calming her down and telling her that her new doctor would be nice and less strict surprisingly she agreed but to one condition . "you have to respond to my calls when i call you" you were caught off guard but smiled a bit and agreed "deal"

So that was your life for these next few months hell maybe even years.

This is a collect call from the Seoul Correctional Facility from

"Bada Lee," Her voice raspy and nonchalant as always, a stark contrast to the excitement bubbling inside you.

If you accept the charges, please press 1

like second nature you instantly press one. "This phone call will be recorded and subject to monitoring...." the autonomous voice instructs. the line clicks, a soft trill signaling the connection, and then a faint beeping tone echoes through your receiver. Your heart pounds in anticipation, your grip on the phone tightening as the line goes silent for just a beat too long . A beeping goes off, and your heart beats heavily.

"Hey princess," Bada's voice, low and gravelly, rolls through the phone. A smile instantaneously forms on your face, it's been a while since you had spoken to Bada on the phone. Her ass was always getting thrown into ad seg for one reason or another.

"Hi baby," your voice is soft and sweet, and Bada feels her heart swelling as she finally hears your voice in what feels like forever. No matter how hardened life makes her, hearing your voice always makes her melt.

“Damn, it’s good to hear you,” she mutters, her tone a little softer now. "They threw my ass in the hole cause some fuckface wanted to try and take the box of Honeybuns from the package you sent me last week."

"Of course they did," you reply with a light laugh, shaking your head. "You can't go a month without stirring up trouble, can you?"

"It's not my fault," Bada defends, the familiar cockiness in her voice making your stomach flutter. "You send me the good shit, princess. You think I'm gonna let some punk get his hands on my Honeybuns?"

You bite your lip to suppress a giggle, imagining her in her element, standing tall and intimidating, defending your care package like her life depended on it. "Well, at least now I know how much you appreciate my efforts."

"Appreciate?" Bada scoffs playfully. "Baby, I worship the ground you walk on for those packages. You should see these guys. They're practically drooling over the stuff you send me. It’s like I’m a queen in here."

"Aweee babyyyy," you coo, biting your lip as your cheeks heat up. Bada always knew just what to say to make you feel giddy like a young girl in love for the first time. "Just for that I'll send you something extra special next week."

Bada lets out a low chuckle, the sound deep and raspy, sending a warm shiver down your spine. "You’re too good to me, princess. You’ve got me spoiled," she says, and though her tone is teasing, there’s a genuine softness beneath her words.

"Someone’s gotta take care of you," you reply, your voice playful but full of affection. "You’re lucky I love you enough to deal with all this drama."

"Lucky doesn’t even cover it," Bada mutters, her voice dropping an octave. "I don’t deserve you, but I’m not letting you go. Ever."

Your heart skips a beat at her words, the weight of her sincerity making your chest tighten. "You don’t have to," you whisper. "I’m not going anywhere, Bada."

"Good," she says firmly, the possessiveness in her tone sending a rush of heat through you. "Cause when I get out of here, you’re mine. Completely. No one else gets a second of your time."

"You already have me," you say softly, the vulnerability in your voice making her pause.

"I know," she murmurs after a moment, her tone unusually tender. "And that’s the only thing keeping me sane in this place. Knowing I’ve got you waiting for me on the other side."

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them away, refusing to let the sadness take over. "I’ll always be here, baby. No matter how long it takes."

"Enough about me though," she tries to change the subject, hearing the vulnerability in your voice. She hates knowing you're missing her like that, especially when she can't do anything about it. "How’s my pretty girl?” she asks, her voice dropping to that lower, huskier tone that always makes your stomach flutter.

“I’m okay,” you reply, leaning back against the couch as you let yourself sink into her voice. “But I’d be better if you were here.”

A low chuckle rumbles through the phone. “Trust me, princess, I’d do anything to be there with you right now.” Bada looks around her surroundings, the dreary cement walls and identical cell doors that go on and on. She leans against the divider that separates all the phones, metal phone wire feeling cool against her arm. It's late at night, most of the prisoners already in their cells asleep. Bada was lucky enough to know someone on the inside, getting the privilege to have late night calls with you, getting as much privacy as she could get. A single guard supervises her haphazardly.

The thought of her—of her rough hands on your skin, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered all the things she wanted to do to you—makes heat pool low in your belly. The distance between you feels unbearable, but her voice keeps you grounded, tethered to the connection you share.

“What are you wearing?” she asks suddenly, her tone playful but suggestive.

"Bada," you laugh, your cheeks flushing. "You’re ridiculous."

“I’m serious,” she replies, her voice darkening with desire. “I need a little something to keep me going while I’m stuck in here.”

You glance down at your oversized t-shirt, wearing nothing but that and some panties. Biting your lip as a grin creeps onto your face. “Nothing special,” you tease. “Just your t-shirt, the one I stole from you.”

"Just my shirt? Nothing else?" She clears her throat with a grunt, looking around to make sure nobody else could hear. Although let's face it, she wouldn't care regardless.

"Mmm that and some panties of course. Like I always wear to bed," you respond, playing with the hem of your shirt mindlessly. The shirt itself wafted of Bada's musky scent, piney with a dash of smoke and a hint of jasmine.

"What panties?" Bada tries to imagine you, all pretty and barefaced, ready for bed in one of her shirts that swallow your frame. No bra, the outline of your nipples showing through the soft fabric. The bottom of your ass poking out from under her shirt.

"The frilly lacy baby pink pair you got me from Victoria's Secret," pulling up your shirt just enough to see the panties you wear, Bada being oh so familiar with the pair. "You know, the ones I wore when we went to that fancy Brazilian steakhouse, and you made me keep them on as you fucked me in the bathroom?"

She groans softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Damn, you know what that does to me, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” you reply, your voice light but filled with heat. Bada started this little game, but you could play it better.

"Fuck I miss you princess," her voice is gravelly, needy as she bites her lip.

"I miss you too baby," your lip curls into a sweet smile, words sounding like sugar.

"No, like I really miss you," Bada looks down at the scratchy sweatpants she's forced to wear, seeing the bulge she now adorns getting bigger and bigger as she paints an image of your pretty self.

"Oh?"

"Wanna help me out ma?" The raspiness of her sultry voice has you weak in the knees and you could almost perfectly picture the wolfish grin she was wearing.

"Bada I don't know..." Feeling bashful, your teeth tug at your lip as you contemplate. Sure you've mailed her pretty pictures with way too much cleavage, some in revealing outfits and "bathing suits", but never have you ever had phone sex with her while she's been locked up.

"C'mon mama, I really need you right now. Miss you so much. Miss your gorgeous face. Miss your cute smile. That pretty pussy of yours." At this point she was rock hard, erection now prominent even in those baggy sweatpants.

"Aren't you in public right now, love?" Raising an eyebrow, you try to imagine Bada as she's in a corner of the public area, standing next to one of the phones that's stuck to the wall.

"Relax princess, it's already past curfew. I got special phone privileges courtesy of Shiu. Pays to know people inside," she clicks her tongue proudly, her smirk almost audible.

"Mmm okay, if you say so baby," sinking down more into the couch, obliging with a tint of pink on your cheeks.

"That's my girl." There's a slight pause, then a rustling sound as Bada leans closer to the phone. "Now, put the phone on speaker so I can hear every little thing, okay princess?"

"Okay, Bada." Turning on speakerphone, you set the phone on the arm of the couch right next to where your head rests. So, what do you want me to do first, baby?" you ask, your voice tinged with playfulness and a hint of arousal.

Bada's chuckle is low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. "Well, for starters... tell me exactly what you're wearing."

You bite your lip, glancing down at yourself before responding, "Like I said earlier, just your old shirt and that pair of baby pink lace panties. Nothing else."

Her mind was so foggy with lust and need that she had forgotten she asked you that, causing that hard predicament that sits in her pants. "Oh, right. That pretty pink pair that I like to slide to the side and fuck you in."

Your breathing hitches, the heat pooling in your core at her words. Bada’s voice, low and laden with want, is enough to make your body respond instantly. You shift slightly, your thighs squeezing together as the familiar ache begins to build.

“You remember everything, don’t you?” you tease, though your voice comes out softer than you intended.

“How could I forget?” she rasps, her tone sending a delicious shiver down your spine. “You looked so fucking good in them. Still do, I bet. Are they wet yet, princess?” Bada reels her memories, thinking of your legs spread open, showing that cute little damp patch of arousal that would soak through the frilly material.

Your cheeks flush crimson, her bluntness never failing to catch you off guard. “Maybe,” you admit shyly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s my girl,” she murmurs approvingly. “Touch yourself for me, baby. I wanna hear those sweet little sounds you make when you think of me.” A hand goes into her sweats, palming herself through her boxers. It didn't bother her in the slightest that anyone could see. Her perfect girl was on the line, moaning and mewling just for her and she wanted—no needed—to get off to you.

"Bada," you breathe out, the warmth spreading through your chest and settling low in your belly. You hesitate for just a moment before letting your hand slip beneath the hem of your shirt, your fingertips brushing against the lace of your panties. “I miss you,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly.

“Fuck, I miss you too,” she groans, the sound of her restraint evident in her tone. “Keep going, princess. Tell me what you’re doing.”

Your hand slips beneath the lace, your fingers dipping into the slick heat between your thighs. “I’m... I’m touching myself,” you confess, your voice trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and desire.

“Good girl,” Bada growls, her words like a low purr that rumbles through the receiver. “You know how much I love hearing you, baby. Don’t hold back. Let me hear those pretty little moans.”

Your free hand clutches at the couch cushion as your fingers begin to move in slow, deliberate circles. The sound of Bada’s breathing, heavy and uneven, fills your ear and fuels the fire building inside you. Closing your eyes, you imagine it's her hovering over you, fingers teasing your clit just how she always does.

"Bada," you whimper, her name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“That’s it, princess,” she encourages, her voice thick with need. “Keep saying my name. Let me know how good it feels.”

You close your eyes, letting her voice guide you as your movements grow more insistent. “I wish you were here; my fingers can't do what yours do,” you whisper, your words shaky as the pleasure builds. “I need you so bad, Bada.”

“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me,” she groans, the sound of rustling fabric on her end letting you know she’s just as affected as you are. “I’d do anything to have you under me right now. To feel how tight you’d squeeze me when I’m deep inside you.” Her hand finally snakes its way inside her boxers, her calloused finger soothing her aching red tip. Palm wrapped around the top, squeezing it in imitation of your tight walls.

"That's all I can think about, Bada," soft, needy whimpers leave your throat, "Having my legs on your shoulders as you break me off. Hitting that one spot deep inside me that always gets me creaming on your cock." Flashbacks of Bada's large hands holding you down, fucking into you as she forces you to watch, that frothy white ring around the base of her dick forming as juice splatters from her impact.

"Yeah, princess?" Bada groans, her voice dipping even lower, roughened by her own need. "You always know how to rile me up, don’t you? Keep talking, tell me exactly how you'd want me to fuck you."

You bite your lip, the weight of his words sending a fresh wave of heat through your core. "I’d want it slow at first," your fingers circle your clit agonizingly slowly. Almost torturous like Bada does. "You’d tease me," you murmur, your voice catching as your fingers dip lower. "Make me beg for it, wouldn’t you? Make me tell you how much I need it, need you."

"Fuck," Bada growls, her breathing heavy in your ear. Her hand strokes herself in sync with your words, her rough palm sliding over her length as she imagines you beneath her, squirming, needy, desperate. "I’d make you wait, baby. You know I love hearing you beg for me, hearing that pretty little voice say my name."

A shaky whimper escapes your lips, the sound almost too loud in the stillness of your living room. "I’d be so wet for you," you whisper, voice trembling as your fingers circle faster, dipping between your folds to gather more of your slickness. "You wouldn’t even have to ask, Bada. I’d be ready for you the second you touched me."

"Shit," she groans, gripping herself tighter as she pictures it. "You’d be dripping down your thighs, wouldn’t you? Making a fucking mess of yourself while you wait for me to fill you up."

"Yes," you gasp, your back arching against the couch as your body reacts to her words. Your free hand clutches at the fabric of her shirt, grounding yourself in her scent, her voice, the memory of her touch when you guys fucked inside her cell . "I need you so bad, Bada. I need to feel you stretching me out, filling me up until I can't take it anymore."

"Dip those pretty little fingers of yours inside your pussy, princess. Imagine it's me curling them and hitting that soft spot in ya," she grunts, trying to imagine the feeling of your tiny hole enveloping her long fingers.

You let out a soft moan, obeying her request, slipping two fingers into your warmth. The wet sound fills the quiet of the room, mixing with her heavy breathing on the line.

“I... I’m doing it, Bada,” you manage between hitched breaths. “It’s not the same... I can’t stretch myself like you do.”

“Fucking hell,” she growls, her hand pumping faster now, imagining the way your body clings to her when she’s buried inside you. “Tell me how it feels, princess. I need to hear everything.”

Your cheeks flush, the embarrassment drowned out by the heat curling in your belly. “It feels... good, but not enough. I can’t reach as deep as you, baby. I need you here. I need your fingers, your cock... all of you.”

“Shit, keep talking like that, and I’m gonna cum before you do,” she groans, her voice thick with frustration and longing. Her strokes become erratic, the image of you—the sounds you're making—driving her closer to the edge. “I’d have you spread out under me right now, pretty legs shaking while I fuck you open. You’d take me so well, wouldn’t you?”

“Uh huh~,” you whimper, arching into your touch, fingers moving faster as you imagine her over you, her shoulders, the weight of her body pressing you down. “I’d take you so good... like I always do. I’d make such a mess for you.”

“You’d be dripping all over my cock, wouldn’t you? So tight, so perfect for me,” she rasps, her voice hitching slightly as her own hand works faster. You can hear the faint rustle of fabric, the wet sound of her strokes, and it sends a thrill through you, knowing she’s as close to the edge as you are.

“Bada, I’m so close,” you whine, your voice trembling with the mounting pleasure.

“Good girl,” she groans, her tone commanding but filled with adoration. “Let it go, princess. Cum for me. I wanna hear those pretty sounds when you fall apart for me.”

Her words push you over the edge, a broken cry escaping your lips as your body tenses and then releases, waves of pleasure crashing through you. Bada’s name spills from your mouth in a litany, each moan sweeter than the last.

“Fuck,” she moans, her voice a low growl as she follows you over the edge, her own release ripping through her. You can hear her breaths, heavy and uneven, as she murmurs your name like a prayer.

For a moment, the two of you are silent, the only sounds the soft hum of the line and your shared breaths as you come down from the high.

“I needed that,” Bada finally mutters, her voice lighter now, the teasing edge creeping back in. "Been so pent up, jerking off to those pretty pictures you mail me like I'm a horny teenager."

You laugh softly, trying to imagine a sexually frustrated Bada hunched over your selfies trying to get himself off. “You’re insatiable, Bada.”

“For you? Always,” she replies, the warmth in her voice making your chest tighten with affection. "I miss being able to bend you over and fuck you wherever and whenever I want."

"Mmmm, I miss that too, baby," you hum, walking to the sink to wash your arousal-stained fingers. "Miss having my woman with me all the time. Gets so lonely without my lover."

"I fucking love you, you know that?" Bada murmurs after a beat, her voice softer now, filled with an almost childlike sincerity.

A smile tugs at your lips, your heart swelling at her words. "I love you too, Bada," you reply, your voice tender.

The automated voice interrupts the moment, announcing that the call will end in one minute. Your chest tightens at the reminder, and you clutch the phone, wishing you could hold onto him just a little longer.

“You better be ready for me when I get out,” she says, her tone turning serious, almost possessive. “I’m not wasting a single second. The first thing I’m doing is coming straight to you, and you’re not leaving my bed for days.”

"I'll be counting down the days, baby," a honeyed mewl leaves your lips, feeling light and airy still from your orgasm. "Until then... Behave yourself, Bada Lee."

She chuckles, the sound low and rich, and you can practically hear the grin in her voice. "No promises, princess," she teases. "But I’ll try. For you. Now before it hangs up, kiss me through the phone, baby."

Your heart squeezes at her request, the playful yet sincere edge in her voice making your chest ache with longing. Pressing the phone closer to your lips, you whisper, "Mwah," letting it carry all the tenderness you can muster.

A low hum of approval comes through the line. "Mmm, that’s what I like to hear," she drawls, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "I’ll be dreaming about that one, princess."

The automated voice chimes in again, colder this time, signaling the end of the call in mere seconds. "I love you," you blurt out, the words rushing out like a lifeline.

"I love you more," she says firmly, the weight of his promise grounding you. "Be good for me, princess. I’ll be home before you know it."

The line clicks dead before you can respond, the abrupt silence leaving an ache in its wake. You lower the phone slowly, staring at the screen as if willing it to light up again with her name. Her words replay in your head. You could hold it down for her, she'll be home before you know it.

[ohgodthevoices]

moving in with ushijima wakatoshi

tags/warnings : fluff, time skip ushijima,settled relationship, intimacy (but not the segsual way), female reader,mention of scars

word count : 0.5k

ushijima takes his life very seriously, that includes his relationship, he likes to commit and focus on a single thing. his friends might’ve told him he wasted his teenage years and his looks by not getting in a relationship earlier or flirting with more people.

but ushijima knew it was for the best, he wanted to focus on. volleyball anyway. but now that his career was pretty much set, he knew it would be fine for him to try new things. and he knew exactly what he wanted when he locked his eyes on you for the first time

for him “taking it slow” was a simple waste of time , the faster he gets to the goal , the more efficient it is. so it really shouldn’t have been a surprise when he asked you to move in with him after 6 months of dating. of course he gave you time to think about it but once you agreed everything was done very quickly.

in less than a week you found yourself sleeping in the same bed as him, sharing a living space with him wasn’t easy but it was good for you, he was organized, clean and healthy. soon enough you woke up to a table full of food and an ushijima, topless cooking for the both of you.

“you know you don’t have to do this right ?” but you weren’t going to complain, finding breakfast ready , cooked by a half naked guy, was the dream after all. “i always do this. i have to follow a diet, i just made extra portions”

he never made you feel like you bothered him in any way , the only times you heard him “complain” was when he let out a long sigh when he finally gets to be in your arms after a long tiring day, just plopping down his full body weight on you, not realizing how stiff he was until your back rubs slowly relaxed him.

ushijima was pretty touchy, he likes to explode your body, but not in the sexual way, finding birthmarks, his calloused fingers connecting your moles together, he just loves having his hands all over you , feeling every inch and knowing the story behind every scar.

he might seem like a big scary giant but he’s very gentle , especially when you ask him to brush your hair after you wash it, he really didn’t want to hurt you.

you were now basically sharing every single moment together , ushijima didn’t want to admit it , but he genuinely enjoys grocery shopping with you now, it wasn’t a task anymore , it made him feel like you were a married couple.

he would send you pictures of everything before buying it, a candle, a sweater, boxers, a couch,lipstick and even socks. he’s the type of guy that would get you anything you look at , he is big on gift giving.

ushijima likes to relax with you in a comfortable silence , he would read a book with you laying on his lap , holding his free hand as you drift off to sleep with the only sound being the quiet tv and the subtle crinkling sound from the fire place.

you had turned his place into a home, a home he actually enjoyed staying in, he was looking forward to going home after each outing. he does take you out but he’s much rather stay in and have a nice dinner together.

[crimsoncandy04]

I'm sorry I haven't posted in such a long time. I'm going back and forth between my Tumblr drafts and my actual book series on google docs and I finally just burnt myself out recently.

But I'm slowly getting back on things and besides going on evening walks for my mental health and also taking more time to fall in love with The Guardians of Agia again as a plot, I'm also going to spend more time writing fun stuff here so I can enjoy writing again.

So in other words here's another angst idea I've been having for more Wanderer/Scaramouche drama.

Okay imagine this, so Wanderer has this whole mental belief that he's evil and nothing good comes from anyone getting involved with him and that he's better off not having any close connections. But what if in another universe his existence as Scaramouche actually DID do something good?

Hear me out, Scara actually makes a friend but it's on the dl. No one knows about this strange girl except him because she's not fully human and most people don't like being around her because of some uncanny vibes she gives off or something despite being a genuine sweetheart, in other words they really only had each other while in the fatui and once Scara is gone from history this entire girl's life is absolutely ruined.

Why?

Because Dottore would still find a demi human to experiment on to make his segments. It's destined to happen. It just wouldn't be Kabukimono who was groomed for the fatui.

It would be the half human girl he abandoned by deleting himself from history.

And it would be her who Dottore takes an interest in and experiments on and stuff.

I feel like she would just replace Scara in this universe and oh my god the absolute mind fuck poor Wanderer would get upon seeing what became of this girl he once was friends with.

He'd feel guilty but would also be reconsidering his entire personal beliefs about himself because if his existence as a harbinger was protecting this girl before, then how could he say his old incarnation was completely unnecessary and only a blight on the world?

I feel like he'd try to actually meet this girl again but if he would try to help her or not I'm unsure. But I definitely feel like he'd feel a little responsible for her suffering in this timeline and would want to speak to her face to face again.

Thoughts?

[cawslew]

pitching a random hc here, do you think that dazai and atsushi would get into the habit of giving each other gifts? i feel like dazai would give atsushi things because atsushi is too unused to just having more than the bare minimum and he would keep everything. then he feels he needs to return the favor and he thinks about things to give dazai that dazai keeps to fill his normally kind of empty (andpresumablylifeless) room. atsushi definitely keeps everything he's given (as his outfit is everything the ada prepared for him despite some items being redundant), but i feel like dazai doesn't try to keep anything. but he can't really reject the sincerity of atsushi's gift, so he has to keep it (and i think it's really funny that he would have to content with physical proof that people do care for him because he can't bring himself to throw it away)

OOOOH, I do love the idea! It would fit their personalities (definitely I'm not clinging to that one scene of Wan... It definitely isn't super important to me.)

Dazai would 100% be the type to start it, casually. Probably even without realizing fully how much it would mean to Atsushi (He knew it would be important to him but not on such a big scale). He might even give him practical things at first, like a nicer notebook, a scarf for winter, or, you know, small silly things, like a cat charm that he's trying to convince Atsushi will ward off bad luck.

But we know Atsushi didn’t get to have stuff in his childhood... It always resulted in punishments, so he definitely has to adjust to the concept of receiving gifts and people caring for him. So everything he would get from Dazai would feel important. He would treasure it all, even if he calls out Dazai for trying to trick him with the silly little charm, he would keep it in his pocket at all times. Or use the notebook until it’s full, even if it’s a cheap one.

But like you said, Atsushi would definitely feel obliged to reciprocate, and agonize over what to get for a man like Dazai 😭 So he would want to be thoughtful, and because of that, he would start to observe Dazai even more, focus on the things that the other would use or need. Of course, Dazai doesn’t keep much around, avoiding owning anything for too long or having too much, most likely avoiding any sentimentality whenever possible... So he is put in a bit of a predicament when Atsushi gives him something. It’s just impossible to reject it, since the other put so much thought and sincerity behind that gesture. Like, imagine Atsushi gifting him something simple, like a well-made pen with a note saying, “I noticed you’re always borrowing Kunikida’s.” Or even something impractical but heartfelt.

Dazai would try to justify why he shouldn’t keep that stuff ("I don’t need another pen, Atsushi, I can just use Kunikida’s"), but in the end, he will cave and keep it. Over time, he’d probably find himself unable to throw these things away, no matter how small or insignificant they might seem. At some point, he would need to confront the fact that Atsushi genuinely cares for him. It would be physical evidence of their connection, which is something Dazai is very unused to (knowing how his previous relationships with other people looked like). Maybe at first he tucks the gifts away in drawers or keeps them out of sight, but eventually, they start filling his space and straight up force him to keep them in sight.

It do be a little bit of a bittersweet and funny image to me. Just Atsushi loving everything and keeping it because it gives him comfort... Whilst Dazai is the opposite of that spectrum, reluctantly keeping little gifts because he can’t bring himself to reject the sincerity, but at the same time being scared of such emotions. Gold headcanon moment fr.

[heyyoungbloods]

Buckle up, babes, because I'm about to talk about Valentino a lot.

I've been thinking about Val a lot since me and @starfallisle started writing "Go to Hell for the Company" and I have Opinions about him, because I actually ended up finding him a lot more interesting and fun to write than I expected.

First I'd like to draw attention to this post that @potionorchard wrote about Val and his emotional intelligence, because I definitely agree with it. To summarize it, Valentino is not exactly a smart guy, but he's very emotionally intelligent and knows how to play people based on their emotions and connections to him, which is likely a big factor in how he became an Overlord in the first place.

Valentino is a mean guy, but he's capable of being nice, being kind. He can give people what they want from him, if he thinks it's worth his time and effort to do so. I think a great example of the two major sides of Valentino are his relationship with Angel versus with Vox.

With Angel Dust: Val knows he doesn't have to try with Angel, because he's got him under contract. He doesn't have to put effort into Angel if he doesn't want to, so he's willing to let himself get fed up with Angel and lash out at him. He'll put on his sweeter side when it suits him, but it's not necessary. The Val that Angel knows is likely the Val most people know in the long term. But I think before he was chained down, Angel knew a whole different Valentino. A kind, sweet, maybe even loving Val.

With Vox: I think Vox is one of the few people Val doesn't see as below him, same with Velvette. They are his business partners after all. More than that, it's clear that Val and Vox have a relationship beyond business, and have had it for a while probably. With Vox, Val has to play the game a little more strategically. @potionorchard pointed this out in her post that when Val doesn't get the results of Vox's attention that he wanted, he immediately turns around and plays Vox, riling him up by mentioning Alastor and then teasing him about it. Val knew what he was doing for that whole exchange. But, outside of these kind of instances, I think it's easy to see that Val has genuine feelings of some kind for Vox. He keeps the photo of them, and the whole dance between him and Vox in the finale speaks for itself I think. Val doesn't have as tight a hold on his temper as he could (or maybe even wishes he did) but he reins it in for Vox when he knows it won't benefit him to use it, or redirects it as needed so Vox isn't the direct subject of it.

I think Valentino uses kindness and affection as a weapon. He knows emotions are powerful motivators and uses them as his primary tools for predation pre: contracts and with those he knows he can't overpower. This is a major factor behind how I choose to write Val in my RPs and fics, why I make him kind when he's trying to achieve long term results, and why he's overall nicer to Vox than anyone else in the day-to-day.

Val is mean, Val is abusive, but he has the capability of being good for the people he has genuine affection for. However, his handle on his temper isn't good enough, and he'll lash out at anyone when he gets worked up enough. I personally think Valentino has some kind of feelings for Angel, but because Angel is under contract and not his perceived equal, he doesn't make the effort to be what Angel would want him to be, the person that Vox gets more often than not. Val is selfish with Angel and puts his own needs and desires above Angel's unless he can figure out how to also benefit from them.

I think Valentino wants to love people, but he struggles with perception (ironic given his eyesight.) I think Val builds his idea of a person in his mind, and when they do something that goes against what he expects of them based on that idea, he reacts poorly. His selfishness battles against this deep down want-- a want that is often overtaken by lust and pride and is therefore easy to miss, even by him.

This post is getting pretty long so I will stop it here. tl;dr: I think Valentino is messy and complicated and I like him for that reason. Am I reading too much into him? Maybe! But he's more interesting this way, don't you think?

[tinydefector]

Behind the Scenes 4

Tim Drake x Male reader

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Word count 5.7k

Warnings: swearing, Tim being Tim in his stalkerish way.

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Y/N’s Internet Presence

Y/N had a small but active social media presence. His accounts were filled with harmless posts, pictures, animals, and the occasional group photo with friends, coworkers at the nursery and even family photos. Nothing out of the ordinary. If anything, he seemed like someone who genuinely loved his job and the environment he worked in, And always had a smile.

Job Records: Y/N had worked at Sarah’s nursery for about three years, with a clean and consistent employment history. Before that, he’d held a few odd jobs, mostly in landscaping and animal care. Everything seemed legitimate. No Criminal Record, A quick background check revealed no red flags—no arrests, no shady connections, nothing that immediately jumped out.

Tim frowned, leaning back against the headboard as he scrolled through the results. On the surface, Y/N seemed completely normal. His life seemed almost too clean, which was suspicious in itself. Gotham wasn’t exactly known for producing people with zero skeletons in their closet, and from what Tim had found he was gotham born and raised.

Shifting gears, Tim dug deeper, turning his attention to the nursery itself. Sarah’s Green Thumb Nursery had been operating for over three decades and had mostly stayed out of Gotham’s usual chaos. However, there were a few notable incidents.

Encounters with Poison Ivy, Several thefts had been reported over the years, all attributed to Pamela Isley. She had stolen rare plants and equipment from the nursery on multiple occasions, though she had never harmed the staff or caused significant damage, there had been a pattern off it for a long while, almost as long as Ivy had been operating in Gotham.

Unusual Growth Patterns of some of the plants. Local rumors suggested that plants at the nursery grew faster and healthier compared to other similar businesses in the area. While that could easily be chalked up to Sarah’s expertise after all she had a very dedicated team, it make have been a small nursery but considering Alfred frequently brought from there, and from his knowledge had been since Bruce was a boy it was clear to say that the nursery had that reputation even before Julian started working there.

A few online reviews mentioned how lovely it was to see animals at the nursery from rare birds nesting in certain plants to the occasional squirrels, possums and fauna in general often congregated near the nursery. One customer joked that the place felt like “a Disney movie come to life.” and left rather good reviews over the nursery.

Tim’s brow furrowed as he stared at the screen. None of this was concrete evidence, but it painted a strange picture. Ivy’s repeated thefts were concerning. Why that nursery? Why hadn’t she escalated her behavior there like she had in other areas? And why did it feel like Y/N was at the center of it all?

Tim tapped his fingers against the keyboard, his mind racing as he pulls out a voice recorder pressing record and sitting it beside himself “Okay,” he muttered. “So you’ve got a guy who’s weirdly good with plants and animals, works at a place Ivy’s targeted multiple times over the years, but suddenly her activities stopped a year ago, what happened to make her stop stealing and breaking into this nursery. You don't just change your behaviour when you have been doing it for over ten years, something must have happened to take this nursery off her list.” He starts rereading his information he had found.

“ then we have Y/n, no dirt on him anywhere. Either he’s the most boring person in Gotham, or he’s hiding something, and knowing the people of Gotham it is most likely the latter, but the question being what is it, why. His boss referred to him as a druid and it is rather suspicious with Ivy seemly uninterested in this nursery now”

Tim wasn’t ready to call Y/N a meta or accuse him of working with Ivy—not yet. But there was enough here to keep digging through files, old nursery documents, sales and other titbits he could find.

His potential theories so far consisted of:

1. Meta-Human Abilities: Y/N could have some form of plant-related powers. His connection to plants and animals wasn’t normal, even for someone who worked with them every day. Something just didn't sit right and Tim had done enough investigations into meta’s to know the signs.

2. Ivy’s Influence: It was possible Y/N had some kind of connection to Ivy, whether he knew it or not. He was benefiting from her powers and that was the reason she wasn't interested in the nursery anymore due to having an inside man, it wasn't likely but there was always the possibility if he was a meta with similar abilities

3. Coincidence: Tim hated this theory the most, but it was always possible Y/N was just a guy who happened to work in a place Ivy liked to steal from before just stopping. But it felt far-fetched now, nothing was ever coincidence.

---

Tim sighed, running a hand through his hair. “This is going to drive me nuts.” He bookmarked the searches for now, deciding he’d dig deeper once he had more time. For now, there wasn’t enough evidence to act on, just a gut feeling and a few loose threads. He’d have to keep an eye on Y/N, maybe even pay another visit to the nursery under the guise of getting information over plants, or buying more.

His eyes flicker to the little cacti, he could always use the excuse of getting another plant to put with it, he knew enough on them to know that most plants were social, not to mention he had dealt with Ivy alot and some of the things she said had rubbed off on him when he was younger, he himself may not have been into plants but he knew enough on what they were like, and that had social networkings not far off from humans and plants can and will die if just by themselves.

Closing his laptop, pressing stop on his voice recorder, he'd listen back over it later and type out the information he missed. but he always found that rambling to the recorder helped him preserve more information for later. Great,” he muttered, flopping back onto the bed. “Now I’ve got plants and a potential mini Ivy to deal with.”

The dining room of Wayne Manor was as lively as ever during dinnertime. The grand table was lined with the usual suspects, Bruce seated at the head, Damian to his right, Duke and Cass on the left, all of them already settled with their food. Tim made his way in, and slid into the empty seat beside Damian.

“Nice of you to join us,” Damian quipped, glancing up from his plate. “I was beginning to think you were upstairs mourning the tiny plant Alfred forced on you. Have you dropped it already” Tim rolled his eyes, already prepared for the onslaught. “It's not dead yet, Damian. Believe it or not, I can handle a cactus.”

“Yet,” Damian repeated with a smirk, stabbing a piece of roasted vegetable with his fork. “I give them a week.” “Two weeks, tops,” Duke chimed in with a grin, leaning back in his chair. Tim groaned, looking across the table at Cass, who was silently eating but raised an eyebrow at him, her expression clearly saying ‘he’s got a point’.

“This is why I don’t come to dinner at the Manor, this is the reason I have my own apartment, and go there after meetings” Tim muttered, taking a bite of Roast Pumpkin as the others chuckled. “Speaking of which,” Bruce said, setting down his glass of water and turning his attention to Tim, “how did the pharmaceutical marketing meeting go today?”

The small talk at the table quieted as everyone turned their attention to Tim, curiosity sparking. Tim set his fork down, his expression hardening slightly. “I shut it down.” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate?”

“They were trying to push a pricing model that would’ve gouged life-saving medication,” Tim explained, his tone sharp. “It was unethical and downright disgusting. I told them no, and I made it clear that if they brought it up again, I’d personally ensure they were out of business by the end of the quarter.”

Duke let out a low whistle, while Damian hummed in approval. Cass gave him a subtle nod, Bruce leaned back in his chair, studying Tim for a moment before giving a slight nod. “Good. I trust you’ll keep an eye on them to make sure they don’t try to sneak it past you again.” “Already planned on it,” Tim said, picking his fork back up. “I’ve got a team auditing their entire portfolio now. If there’s even a hint of them trying something like this again, I’ll shut them down permanently.”

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Duke said with a shiver, earning a small laugh from Cass. They were aware how brutal Tim could be when in a workplace, he took WE with the same determination and skill he did dealing with Rogues and he could be downright scary in either Fields, it was one of the things that Damian respected about Timothy Drake. “You’d have to try a lot harder than that, Duke,” Tim said with a soft chuckle.

“So, you’re capable of destroying corporations and putting fear into your subordinates, but let’s see how long you can keep a plant alive” he states plainly, it felt at this point he was just trying to stir trouble At the table, and in truth he was bored, Dick hasn't come for the weekly dinner this week due to Riddler and extra work at the precinct, and Jason rarely visited as it was unless he knew Alfred was making is favourite as a bribe.

Tim groaned, rubbing his temples. “Can we not go back to this?” “No, no, I think Damian has a point,” Duke said, leaning in with a mischievous grin. “We should take bets. How long do we think Tim’s little cacti is going to last?”

“Three days, he will knock it over while working, if he doesn't leave it here and it dies while he goes back to his apartment ” Damian said immediately, crossing his arms. “A week and a half,” Duke said thoughtfully. “Maybe two, if Alfred steps in to save it.”

Cass tilted her head, pretending to consider it before holding up two fingers. “Two days?” Duke asked, laughing. Cass shook her head and held up two fingers again, then made a small motion with her hand to indicate a zero. “Twenty days,” Tim translated. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Cass. Really appreciate it” he snarks while picking at his food. Cass shrugged, giving him a small smile as she continued eating.

Bruce cleared his throat, though the ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “As amusing as this is, I’m sure Tim will manage just fine. They’re cacti. They don’t need much.” “Exactly,” Tim said, pointing his fork at Damian. “Even I can’t screw that up. They are one of the plants that need the least amount of work done for them, and i might just get another one just to prove you wrong Al-ghul”

“We’ll see,” Damian Muttered under his breath. Duke shifted the conversation talking about a new project he was working on at school, and the girl he had been teamed up with. Damian about the latest Gotham Academy assignment, stating they needed to improve the curriculum as he was currently ahead of everyone. Tim found himself relaxing, Even Bruce seemed more at ease, chiming in every now and then with his usual calm authority to settle Damian down.

For all the chaos that came with being part of the Wayne-family, moments like this reminded Tim why it was all worth it.

Tim sat cross-legged on his bed, laptop perched on his lap, the glow of the screen casting faint shadows across his face. He promised Alfred he’d get some sleep tonight, but the nagging feeling about Y/N refused to let him rest. He had his medication and was working up until it finally made him drowsy was his excuse.

“This is probably nothing,” Tim muttered to the recorder again as he began accessing sites breaking through firewalls and re-writing coding as he went as to not set off any alarms over the nurseries website to find what site they used for security footage, storage and payroll. fingers already flying across the keyboard. The nursery’s network wasn’t exactly Fort Knox. In fact, it wasn’t even a padlock on a garden gate.

“Seriously?” Tim scoffed, his fingers moving effortlessly as he bypassed the weak security. “Cloud storage with no encryption? No firewalls? Who set this up, a middle schooler? I’ve seen better protection on my local coffee shop’s Wi-Fi.” Within minutes, Tim was in, scrolling through the nursery’s security footage archives. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “That was embarrassingly easy. I almost feel bad. Almost.”

He sifted through the grainy footage, narrowing his search to recent days and areas where Y/N was most likely to be working. The cameras weren’t great, low-quality, with just enough resolution to make out people and their general movements. Tim leaned forward, squinting as he scanned through clips of the nursery staff going about their day. “Alright, Y/N,” Tim muttered, tapping through timestamps. “Let’s see what you’ve got going on.”

After about ten minutes of searching, he found a few clips of Y/N. The young man was exactly as Tim remembered him calm, focused, and completely at ease in his surroundings, there were a few clipe that showed him clearly laughing at something a coworker had said and occasional play fighting with one where a handful of dirt or trimmed leaves were thrown between people. Tim watched as Y/N worked with the plants, carefully pruning leaves and arranging pots with a precision that felt... oddly natural, almost instinctual, hed read orders in trays as if memorising it and then disappear with a tray only to come back five to ten minutes later with the tray full.

“Okay, not weird,” Tim muttered, scrubbing through another clip. “Just a guy doing his job. Nothing meta about that.” Then he stumbled across something strange. The footage showed Y/N walking through one of the nursery’s outdoor sections late at afternoon, it was clear he was there after hours. A flock of crows was perched on a nearby fence, their dark feathers standing out against the greenery. As Y/N passed, the crows took off, circling him briefly before landing again. A few hopped closer, dropping small objects onto the ground: a shiny button, a piece of foil, and what looked like a coin.

Y/N knelt down, inspecting the trinkets with a quiet smile before pocketing them, throwing down a handful of mixed berries, nuts and seed before continuing on his way. Tim paused the footage, staring at the screen brows furrowed. “Huh. That’s... different.” He replayed the clip, watching the crows’ behavior more closely. They weren’t acting randomly if anything, they seemed to be deliberately offering Y/N the trinkets. And Y/N didn’t seem surprised by it.

“Okay, that’s a little weird,” Tim muttered, rubbing his chin. “But not meta weird. People feed birds all the time. Maybe they just like him because he gives them snacks or something. Crows are smart. That’s not exactly groundbreaking; he must just enjoy birds. So that seems cross that off for now, nothing sinister over the animals, he's not using them in some sort of mind control ”

The rest of the clips were mundane. Y/N working with plants, chatting with coworkers, and occasionally being followed by the stray animals Sarah had mentioned. A cat curled up by his feet in one clip, while a raccoon trailed after him in another. Tim leaned back, resting his hands on the keyboard. “Alright, so... nothing incriminating. No superpowers that I can see, no secret meetings with Ivy, no glowing green hands of doom. Just a guy who’s really good with plants and animals. Which is surely suspicious but so far nothing dangerous, but a visit to the nursery again might do well to just wipe it off the theories and clear him. Christ i can't believe i did a deep dive over this because he set me off for Some reason” he grumbles to himself more out of annoyance at himself.

He stared at the screen for a moment longer, replaying the clip with the crows one last time. “Still weird, I’ve seen birds do that before, but it’s usually with people they’ve been around for years. They don’t just do that for anyone.”

Tim sighed, closing the footage and logging out of the nursery’s system. “Well, that was a whole lot of nothing. Still doesn’t explain why Ivy keeps targeting that nursery, and then just vanished. There’s gotta be more to this.” He set the laptop aside, flopping back onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling. “Alright, Tim. Let’s recap. Y/N’s clean, at least on paper. The nursery had run-ins with Ivy, but she’s never hurt anyone there. Y/N is weirdly good with animals and plants, but that doesn’t scream meta. Yet.”

He closed his eyes, letting out a long breath. “Maybe I’m overthinking this. Maybe Y/N’s just... some guy who happens to work at the most eco-friendly nursery in Gotham. And maybe the crows are just crows. Yeah. Totally normal.” But even as he said it, the nagging suspicion in the back of his mind didn’t go away. Something about Y/N still didn’t add up, his finger hovered over the stop button of his recorder ready to stop it and finish for the night, Tim knew he wouldn’t be able to let it go until he had real answers. “Alright,” he muttered to himself, reaching for his laptop again. “One more search. Just in case.”

It was going to be a long night.

Tim’s tired eyes were starting to burn from staring at his laptop screen when he came across the file. He wasn’t even sure how he’d missed it earlier, it was buried in an older folder, timestamped for a day when Poison Ivy had reportedly broken into the nursery. “Finally, something interesting,” Tim muttered, clicking on the file. He leaned forward, the grainy footage loading in a small window on his screen.

The video started off normal enough. It was one of the outdoor sections of the nursery, where rows of plants and shrubs were neatly arranged. The timestamp told him it was late night, the moonlight casting long shadows across the ground.

The camera angle wasn’t the best, but within moments, he spotted Y/N in the frame. He was standing near a row of potted trees, a crow perched comfortably on his shoulder like it belonged there. Y/N wasn’t working, though he was frozen in place, staring at something just out of the camera’s view. Tim scrubbed the footage forward a few seconds, and then she appeared.

Poison Ivy stepped into the frame, her signature green skin and fiery red hair unmistakable even with the low resolution. She moved slowly, her gaze locked on Y/N. The plants around her seemed to react instinctively, their leaves shifting toward her as if drawn by a magnetic force.

Tim’s breath hitched as he watched the scene unfold. His eyes flicked between Y/N, who stood stock still with the crow still on his shoulder, and Ivy, who stopped a few feet away from him.

For a moment, neither of them moved. “Okay, that’s... not what I expected,” Tim whispered to himself, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. The crow on Y/N’s shoulder fluffed its feathers, its small body tensing as if it were ready to spring into action. Y/N, meanwhile, looked like he was trying to decide whether to run or stay put.

Y/n looked nervous, understandably so—but not panicked. If anything, he seemed more unsure of what to do than outright afraid. Ivy didn’t respond. She just stood there, her expression unreadable. The plants around her continued to shift and sway, their leaves almost quivering in her presence. Y/n doesn't move, but it seems As if the plants around him don't even react to Ivy, their leaves only moving with the slight breeze.

For several seconds, the two of them simply stared at each other. The crow shifted slightly on Y/N’s shoulder, its beady eyes locked on Ivy like it was ready to defend its human companion.

And then something unspoken seemed to pass between them. Ivy’s gaze softened not in a warm or friendly way, but in a way that suggested she’d made some kind of decision. Her posture relaxed slightly, and the plants around her seemed to ease back into stillness.

Y/N, for his part, didn’t say a word. He just stood there, watching her with wide eyes as the crow puffed up its feathers again. Ivy turned on her heel and walked away, disappearing out of frame. Y/N remained frozen for a moment longer, Finally, Y/N seemed to snap out of it, shaking his head and muttering something under his breath before walking off in the opposite direction.

Tim stared at the screen, replaying the clip again and again. “Okay,” he said to himself, his voice low and measured, “what the Fuck was that?” He scrubbed through the video frame by frame, trying to pick apart every detail. Ivy hadn’t attacked Y/N, nor had she even said a word to him. That alone was strange. Poison Ivy wasn’t known for her restraint, especially when it came to people she considered a threat to plants.

But what was even stranger was Y/N’s reaction. He hadn’t seemed terrified, not really. Nervous, sure, but not the kind of fear Tim would expect from someone face-to-face with one of Gotham’s most dangerous metas. And the crow. Tim rewound the footage, focusing on the bird perched on Y/N’s shoulder. It wasn’t just there for show it had been watching Ivy the entire time, its body language mirroring Y/N’s. Protective. Guarded. Almost... intelligent.

Tim sat back, running a hand through his hair. “What are you hiding, Y/N?” he muttered. He replayed the footage one last time, his mind racing with theories, and its only when he freezes the screen he sees it, it's almost not there but he sees it, there are faint raised marks on the man's cheek bones. They look like tiny little vines or fern leaves creeping down his jaw lines, the camera quality makes them barely visible but he sees them.

---

Tim's first lot of theories had been completely thrown out and replaced with a new list.

1. Y/N Has flora and Fauna based Meta Abilities: The interaction with Ivy suggested there was something more to Y/N than just a green thumb. Whether he was a meta himself or had some kind of connection to plants, it was clear Ivy had recognized something in him.

2. Ivy Knows Him: The way Ivy had reacted calm, almost respectful hinted at the possibility that she knew Y/N or at least saw him as an ally, or someone not worth antagonizing.

3. He was working for Ivy.

---

Tim closed his laptop, staring at the darkened screen as his mind whirled with questions. Whatever was going on with Y/N, it wasn’t normal. Ivy didn’t just walk away from people without a reason, and she definitely didn’t leave witnesses unless she had no choice. The footage didn’t give him all the answers, but it gave him enough to know he was onto something.

“Well,” Tim muttered, running a hand over his face, “Alfred’s going to kill me for not sleeping, but there’s no way I’m dropping this now.” he presses stop on his recording, he'd listen back over it tomorrow and recheck his details, fix Errors and update the file. Tomorrow, he’d dig deeper. One way or another, he was going to figure out what was really going on with Y/N and what role Poison Ivy had to play in all of it.

Tim stared at the laptop screen, replaying the final seconds of the footage for what felt like the hundredth time. Ivy’s departure from the nursery had been uncharacteristically calm, almost as if something about Y/N had unnerved her. That alone was odd, Poison Ivy wasn’t someone who spooked easily. And yet, based on the records Tim had pulled, that was the last time she’d ever shown up at Sarah’s nursery. No thefts. No threats. No cryptic notes about protecting the environment. Nothing. It was like the place had suddenly gone off her radar completely.

“That’s... really weird,” Tim muttered, scrubbing a hand down his face. He leaned back against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling. “Ivy doesn’t just stop. If she wants something, she’ll take it. She’s not afraid of anyone—so why would she back off because of him?” He glanced back at the laptop, the image of Y/N frozen on the screen. The young man looked completely ordinary had it not been for the fact he could now pick out the small little fern like markings that flared under his skin, standing there with the crow on his shoulder.

“Alright, fuck it, we aren't sleeping tonight ” he muttered to himself grumbling over stopping his recorder as he hunts for where he put it on his bed again, pulling up the nursery’s incident logs again. “Let’s think this through. Ivy’s hit this place multiple times in the past, but then this one encounter happens, and she’s gone for good. What made her stop, it's clear she wasn't expecting Y/n to be there, Both of them seemed rather stunned to see each other”

He started jotting down notes on a scratchpad beside him, organizing his thoughts. Tim tapped his pen against the notepad, his brow furrowed. The pieces didn’t fit together neatly, but one thing was clear: Y/N’s presence had changed something.

“ he’s a meta. he’s got some kind of connection to plants and animals. That would explain why Ivy reacted the way she did—she saw him as a threat or... someone like her. Maybe it was a territory dispute of some sort” The thought made Tim pause. Ivy wasn’t known for showing restraint, especially when someone got in the way of her goals, and she was fiery protective of plant life. But she also had a deep respect for nature, and if she’d seen something in Y/N that aligned with her own ideals, it might have been enough to make her back off.

“But that doesn’t explain why she never came back,” Tim said, shaking his head. “Ivy doesn’t just give up. If anything, she doubles down, finding someone like her, she wouldn't jsut let them disappear under the radar, she would pursue them.” He leaned forward, pulling up additional records to cross-reference. He looked for anything, news articles, social media posts, rumors that might hint at why Ivy had avoided the nursery since then. But there was nothing.

“She’s completely wiped it off her radar,” Tim muttered, scrolling through search results. “It’s like the place doesn’t even exist to her anymore.” He sat back with a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “he spooked her, the fuck is able to spook Ivy. Or at least make her decide the nursery wasn’t worth the trouble anymore.”

Tim glanced at the clock on his laptop. It was well past midnight, and he could already hear Alfred’s voice in his head, gently scolding him for staying up so late. “Alright, fine,” Tim muttered, closing the laptop. “I’ll get some sleep. But this isn’t over.” he set the laptop on his desk and flopped back onto the bed, staring at the cacti sitting on the desk as his mind continued to race. Whatever was going on with Y/N, it was bigger than just the nursery. Ivy’s reaction had proved that much.

As sleep finally began to creep in, Tim made a mental note to dig deeper tomorrow. If Y/N was hiding something, Tim was going to find out what it was one way or another.

The next morning, Tim found himself sitting at the kitchen counter, nursing a mug of coffee. His eyes were locked on Alfred, who was outside on the Manor’s grounds, carefully planting the greenery they had picked up the day before. The older man moved with his usual precision, tending to the plants with an almost meditative focus.

But Tim wasn’t meditating. His mind was racing. His gaze flicked back to his laptop, which sat open on the counter beside him, the screen dark after half an hour of inactivity. He’d barely slept. His thoughts kept circling back to Y/N and what exactly he was hiding. The footage from the nursery had only raised more questions. Ivy’s reaction to Y/N wasn’t normal. The way she froze, the way she turned and left without so much as a fight it wasn’t just strange, it was unprecedented. Ivy didn’t back down from anyone.

Unless she didn’t see him as a threat, if she saw him as an equal? Or at least something close enough that she didn’t want to risk a fight? He shook his head. That thought didn’t sit well with him. But that was the thing about Gotham. Nothing was ever just anything.

Tim’s thoughts broke as Alfred stepped back inside, wiping his hands on a towel he’d brought with him. “Good morning, Master Timothy,” Alfred said in his usual composed tone, glancing at Tim as he set the towel aside. “I trust you’ve already begun overthinking something that likely doesn’t require your attention this early in the day?”

Tim blinked, caught off guard for a moment, before letting out a small laugh. “You know me too well, Alfred.” “Indeed,” Alfred said with a slight smile. “If I may be so bold, I suspect this has something to do with yesterday’s excursion. Or, more specifically, with the young man you’ve been quietly obsessing over since we returned?”

Tim froze, his coffee mug halfway to his lips. “I—what? I’m not obsessing!” he tries to argue, he hated how easily Alfred read him, how?, he had only looked at Y/n a few times yesterday, didn't mention it outside of Sarah saying she called him a druid.

Alfred raised an eyebrow, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp. “Master Timothy, I’ve known you for quite some years now. You have a... particular way of fixating on things you find unusual. I seem to recall a certain young boy who, at the age of thirteen, managed to deduce the secret identities of both Batman and Robin. And then tracked down Master Dick even after he relocated to Blüdhaven.”

Tim groaned, setting the mug down. “Okay, first of all, that was different. Bruce and Dick were being *really* obvious. And second of all—” “You’ve barely slept,” Alfred interrupted smoothly, moving to refill Tim’s mug with fresh coffee. “You’ve been staring out the window for the past twenty minutes, and I suspect you’ve already gone through most of the nursery’s security footage. Am I wrong?”

Tim sighed, slumping against the counter. “No, you’re not wrong.” he mumbles under his breath.

Alfred gave a small nod, his expression softening just slightly. “Might I suggest that you take a step back, sir? Obsession rarely leads to clarity. And while your instincts are rarely incorrect, they do have a habit of leading you to... less-than-healthy habits.”

Tim stared at the coffee mug in front of him, his fingers tapping lightly against the ceramic. “It’s not just a hunch, Alfred. There’s something off about him, he's a meta who unsettled Poison Ivy. It doesn’t make sense. She’s never acted like that before. And the way animals and plants react to him—it screams meta.”

“Perhaps not,” Alfred agreed, folding his hands neatly in front of him. “But that does not necessarily mean it requires your immediate intervention. It is possible, after all, that the young man himself is unaware of whatever it is you suspect him of.” “That’s what worries me,” Tim muttered. “If he doesn’t know, then he can’t control it. What if he becomes another rogue And if he does know, then he’s hiding it. Either way, I need to figure out what’s going on.”

Alfred studied him for a moment before speaking. “Might I remind you, Master Timothy, that not everyone who appears unusual is harboring ill intent? You, of all people, should know that Gotham is not always so black and white. There are plenty of Metas who just wish to live their life without being profiled” he states with a hum.

Tim looked up at him, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You think I’m overreacting.” “I think,” Alfred said carefully, “that you are driven by a need to understand. But understanding does not always require immediate action. Perhaps, for now, it would be wise to let the matter rest. Tim didn’t respond right away. He knew Alfred was probably right, his tendency to dive headfirst into mysteries had gotten him into trouble before. But this felt different.

“I’ll think about it,” he said finally, though the look on his face suggested otherwise. Alfred gave him a knowing look but didn’t press further. “Very well, sir. Breakfast will be ready shortly, should you decide to join the others.”

As Alfred made himself busy in the kitchen, Tim turned back to his laptop, grabbing it and moving to the dining room table, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He wanted to let it go—really, he did. But the nagging feeling in his gut refused to let him drop it. He opened a new tab and began digging deeper into Sarah’s background, hoping to find any hint as to why she’d hidden that footage. If she knew something about Y/N, she’d gone out of her way to keep it under wraps.

"Why would she bury that recording?" Tim muttered to himself. “What was she trying to protect?”

The questions kept piling up, and Tim knew he wouldn’t stop until he had answers.

___________

[kazoolol]

SONIC N SHADOW INFORMAL CHARACTER ANALYSIS/DISCUSSION

WARNING this analysis, opinion thing jumps from scene to scene as it's made with the idea you've seen the games and I'm also writing this sort of on the spot so apologies for any typos etc. Also please be nice I'm just some guy.

Honestly, I'm not a huge fan of Sonic and Shadow being so hostile towards each other. Now I'm not referring to their rivalry, because I love it. They're the only people who match each other in almost every aspect, so competition and a little rivalry is welcome and expected. But what I dislike is how nowadays they're not even capable of complimenting one another. Or even getting along in a more casual setting?

Like, in their Tailstube or the line change in SxSG ("You got this, Sonic." -> "On your feet, Sonic.") It feels sort of unnecsesary and disingenuine rewriting genuine hostility between the characters when there wasn't any to begin with.

Sonic and Shadow have always had a competitive push and pull that leaned towards playful from the get go despite the danger both parties presented.

When they meet, Shadow doesn't even seem inherently aggressive like he's depicted to be nowadays. He simply just warps away from Sonic when he comes at him.

Shadow at this point just sees himself in higher regard to Sonic and deems him unworthy of his time. This represented by the fact that Shadow is not only positioned to be looming over Sonic, the cinematography having him look down at him and exclaiming once he teleports onto the roof of the building that, "Theres no time for games, farewell."

We know that Shadow however quickly changes his tune the more he gets to know Sonoc throughout SA2.

He expresses disappointment in what he assumes to be Sonics death.

This line is so cool and extremely telling of their relationship at this point because it implies that Shadow saw him as MORE than just some hedgehog that resembled him.

Note the "You never cease to suprise me" "So, there's more to you than just looking like me."

(Small note thats kind of off topic) It's interesting to me in a lot of these encounters Sonic is actually the one to START the fight (other than when they battle each other on the ark). This is within reason though since hes being blamed for crimes he did not commit.

I wish Shadows hostility was toned down some. As he seems pretty amicable all things considering even hes working against Sonic. For example trading quips with Sonic in Adventure 2, doing numerous callbacks to such quips. In the hero story when you fight Shadow on the island as Sonic, he even admits Sonic is an impressive fighter. ( I would take SS but I'll just link a video to the scene)

In fact he gives Sonic credit where credit is due and vice versa numerous times throughout the story, and even the little talk they have before the fight on the Ark Shadow is genuinely curious about Sonic and who he is as a person.

Shadows curiousity surrounding Sonic is something I've always found incredibly interesting about their dynamic. I don't think Shadow would be so no nonsense and dismissive of Sonic, because Sonic intrigues him. Not only due to their similarity in appearance, but how Sonic carries himself as a person.

Not only is this an amazing character moment for Sonic, emphasizing he is not a hero but just a guy who loves adventure. Shadow after this revelation is not aggressive, mean or dismissive. He only fights Sonic because he's in the way, not due to some hatred on Shadows end, just because Sonic was in the way. He treats Rouge similarly.

I also liked the inherent connection the two of them had, like how in Sonic Heroes where Shadow lacks memory of any of SA2, he shows immediate interest in Sonic of all characters.

He's confused about why they look similar, yes, but he still shows immense interest in Sonic and ONLY Sonic even though Tails and Knuckles are also extremely suprised by his return.

I also think it's important to note that, even when Shadow remembers very little of Sonic, they still maintain that playful push and pull dynamic. Shadow never brushes him off, engaging with Sonic and vice versa.

Notice how Shadow isn't insulting, degrading nor putting down Sonic. He isn't so no nonsense as he is protrayed to be nowadays. He plays off of him, going "Is that so...well then, it will be a date to DIE for." Before smirking and running at Sonic.

Maybe I'm simply misunderstanding something, maybe I'm just being oblivious or misinterpreting their scenes, but I feel the removal of Shadows friendliness admist the rivalry and competition makes it feel less compelling because where their dynamic was established to be both parties pushing and pulling each others limits, yet also holding an air of respect and liking to one another feels lost with how most just deem Shadow and Sonic just hating each others guts. What reason does Shadow have for wanting to "finally defeat" Sonic?

Even in games where Shadow a bit more "aggressive" or has a less than friendly dynamic with Sonic (Think Sonic Battle and Shadow 05) theres still an air of respect between them. Sonic actually is the one who continues to push Shadow to take the path thats best for him. Sonic pushes him to be honest about his feelings, that it's okay for him to simply live and feel in the moment. And even when Shadow disagrees with this notion, claiming he has no heart, or Sonic is misunderstanding him, Sonic remains by his side.

That's what I've always loved about Sonic and Shadows relationship. That respect and care for one another I feel is completely lost nowadays to their dynamic. Big moments like Shadow directly stating that the ultimate lifeform is Sonic (I stole this off someone on Twitter I believe. Thank you to that person!) Sonic inspiring Shadow to live just doesn't really exist anymore.

And even in Sonic 06, the respect and trust the two have remains and is even stronger than before. When explaining where they find themselves to Team Hero, Sonic immediately picks up what Shadow is trying to communicate, that they need to work. Neither parties are apprehensive to one another, Sonic giving a thumbs up and Shadow nodding in approval.

And later when the teams are off on their own, theres the small but to me very memorable interaction where Sonic points right at Shadow and says, "Don't be late." And where I feel in recent titles where Shadow would either ignore him or just brush him off, he gets extremely close to Sonic and goes "Same to you."

And of course the iconic "chaos control" they do together not ONLY being noticably closer than it was with Silver, but they exchange NO WORDS throughout it all and just...know what to do. That is so special to me. That they just know what the other is thinking with no words said. Another moment that supports this is when Shadow comes in to help Sonic and no words are said besides a nod and smile. Would the two really do something like that if they hated one another and had no interest in each other?

I never see their close bond anymore between the two in both canon and fanon content and it's really sad disappointing in my opinion.

It makes Sonic and Shadows dynamic as a whole way less compelling.

The point of this character analysis is to point out how much of what made Shadow and Sonics dynamic actually engaging and have an incredible amount of depth is just...gone nowadays. With them leaning into making Shadow and Sonic rivals, they lost what made that dynamic so special in the first place.

Now I'm not saying I want Sonic and Shadow to be openly really friendly and lose their banter but I wish more moments of care and trust between them was also more common place.

What do you think? Do you think I missed the mark in some of this? Do you prefer their older dynamic or the newer one?

Just to be clear this is not a hate post directed to any of the Sonic Team, this isn't an Ian Flynn hate post this is just me pointing out how I feel about the more modern take on the characters. I really like how Shadow generations handles them but I also feel some line changes in Sonic Generations don't sit well with me personally.

I'm not a big fan of much of the Sonic and Shadow material outside of the games other than the Sonic movies and stories from Sonic channel so I tried to stick to the games primarily when discussing their dynamic.

Please be nice in the replies!!!!!

[narcissisticpdcultureis]

npd + aspd traits culture is showing care for someone by offering help (actually for them not for myself in any way) even tho you don't really feel the "care" right now and then they don't accept the help so you're just so close to crashing out and telling them the truth that you don't care right now. Like how dare you. I literally go out of my way to be vulnerable to you, FOR YOU, not even for myself, which I do with noone else now you're not even gonna accept the help and be rude??? Like fuck you dude I don't care, don't even think about telling me your shit again next time.

But I love them so it's fine and even if I get really angry at times that won't change. It's just frustrating at times because I feel like they don't understand how big this and that they're the only person I have a genuine connection to and I'd do stuff like this for.

-🪼🫧 (turns out it is npd + aspd traits now...)

.

[cryptid-doodles-212]

Headcanon:

Stan's love life 2 | NSFW

☆ Like in part 1, he doesn't bring people over to the Shack - not even for a one night stand. The closest he got to it was after a back of the bar makeout, coming to the Shack with his hookup in the car and... They just sat there until it got uncomfortably silent. He drove them home. Came back to have another beer and jack off alone. That house overwhelmed his mind and body to disfunction, due to grief over the portal incident. That's all he could think of.

☆ Even being alone like that took some time getting used to. It felt like the house is watching him.

☆ Stan has a rough start - quick undressing, grinding, too eager since it's been a while, but the moment he's praised he gets a little bashful, a little slower, hides his face. He's hard as a rock but he needs it to set in, that the praise is genuine, he needs to get himself to believe it.

☆ Stan is difficult to get to, but once he feels a genuine connection, this man is like a horny college guy. Riskier innuendos, sneaking hands, seconds long hungry looks trough a crowd of tourists, and he delivers on it as soon as he's alone with his partner

☆ He's looking for weak spots, things that make the other person's knees buckle, and he will absolutely make the most of it. Often for entertainment, like a very erotic inside joke. If someone's thing is being pinned, he will lean over them when they least expect it, no escape, in a crowded room, under a guise of getting something. But there would be that look again. He knows what he's doing.

☆ He will definitely get cocky when feeling desired while trying to be desirable. But being desired while the Mr Mystery act is off will always catch him off guard. Kissed while in his best attire, aftershave on him, and after showering the other person with compliments? Expected. Being groped and flirted with while in his boxers, hair a mess, and needing a shower? Unthinkable. He might be resistant to it at first until he, again, believes that he's desirable like that.

Bonus:

As many others say, he does not shut up in bed. But as his confidence rises with time, he fluctuates between both being boastful ("C'mon, sugar, you know how good my cock feels") and taunting with a tiny bit of self deprecation ("You want this dirty old man to fuck you silly, don't ya'?")