#one day i will get to draw more. and write more. and have time for things ;_;

[kirammanswifey]

arcane characters when they're jealous x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: i really loveddd writing this, just imaginating each scenario was so satisfying, silco's and viktor's were my favorites. i loooove viktor so much i could write about thar man each day of my life and never be get tired of it. btw request are open! ;)

Viktor

The lab was especially lively that afternoon, with new ideas flowing among the team. You were conversing with a new colleague, a young enthusiast who seemed to have a knack for understanding complex concepts. His questions and comments kept you engaged, and you couldn't help but smile at his contagious energy.

From his desk, Viktor occasionally glanced up, observing the interaction. At first, he seemed focused on his own calculations, but every time your laughter echoed through the space, his hands paused over the paper, and his gaze slightly hardened.

After a while, he stood up with his careful stride and approached you and your colleague, placing a hand on the edge of the table where you were working.

"Excuse me, could you come with me for a moment? There's something we need to review together," Viktor said, his tone polite but with a firmness that didn't go unnoticed.

"Of course, Viktor, give me a second," you replied, finishing explaining one last detail before turning to him.

Viktor waited for you to stand up and guided you back to his desk. When you both were seated, he leaned slightly toward you, his eyes searching yours.

"It seemed like you were quite involved in your conversation," he commented, trying to maintain a casual tone but failing to hide the hint of jealousy in his gaze.

"I was just explaining some of the previous projects," you said, gently touching his hand to calm him. "Nothing I can't share with you."

Viktor nodded, relaxing slightly at your touch, but he didn't let the subject drop so easily.

"I'm glad to hear that. Sometimes, it's easy to forget that there are things only we share, isn't it?"

His voice was soft, but the intensity of his words made your heart beat a little faster. You knew Viktor rarely showed his emotions so openly, and seeing that protective side of him was something you couldn't ignore.

"Viktor," you said, smiling and intertwining your fingers with his. "You know you're always the first person I think of when something excites me. No one can replace you."

The shadow of jealousy that had been haunting him slowly faded, replaced by a slight smile that barely curved his lips. Viktor leaned in a bit more, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, a caress that spoke of the trust he had in you.

"I know," he whispered. "I just needed to remind myself."

Jinx

The air in the Undercity was thick with smoke and raucous laughter as you made your way into an underground club with Jinx. The vibrant music filled the space, and the crowd moved like a wild tide. You had come with Jinx to get distracted, but soon found yourself caught up in a conversation with an old acquaintance. His words were lively, but your attention was divided between him and the flashes of blue in the background, where Jinx was watching.

Jinx stayed in the shadows, her bright blue eyes shining intensely as she watched you laugh and chat with someone else. Her jaw was tense, and her fingers nervously played with a grenade she had pulled from her belt. Jealousy boiled inside her, mixed with a latent fear that she might lose you.

When the man placed a hand on your arm to emphasize his point, Jinx could no longer hold herself back. She cut through the crowd with the agility of a predator, her presence drawing attention as she advanced toward you.

"Hey! How about you get lost before things get ugly?" Jinx interrupted the conversation with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, her voice laden with a barely concealed threat.

The man quickly stepped away, recognizing the danger in Jinx's tone. He had barely disappeared into the crowd when Jinx grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward a less crowded corner of the club.

"What the hell was that?" you asked, surprised by her abruptness.

Jinx stared at you, her eyes reflecting a storm of emotions. "I didn’t like how he looked at you. I didn’t like how he touched you. You’re mine, understand? Only mine."

The intensity in her voice took your breath away. It was as if her whole world revolved around you, and the idea of sharing you with someone else drove her mad.

"Jinx..." you began, trying to calm her, but she was already moving closer, her hands on your hips, pressing you against the wall.

"I don’t care if I’m too much. I don’t care if you think I’m crazy. I can’t stand the idea of someone else trying to have what’s mine," she whispered, her lips inches from yours.

"Jinx," you said softly, cupping her face in your hands. "I understand how you feel, but you can't act like this or treat people that way. You have to trust me. I’ll never leave you, but you have to believe in us. You have to believe in me."

Her eyes softened for a moment, and she nodded slightly, her breathing still heavy but beginning to calm.

Her words were a whirlwind of passion and possessiveness, and before you could respond, her lips found yours in a fierce kiss, filled with need and latent desperation. Her body trembled against yours, and you felt the chaos of her emotions spilling into every movement.

When she finally pulled away, her eyes searched yours, pleading and vulnerable. "Promise me you'll always stay with me. That you’ll never let anyone come between us."

"Jinx, I could never want anyone else," you said, stroking her cheek gently. "I’m here, and I always will be."

Jinx closed her eyes, resting her forehead against yours as her breathing steadied. "I love you... too much."

Vi

The atmosphere in the alley was charged with electricity. The crowd gathered around the makeshift fight ring, silently placing bets as they watched the imminent confrontation. You knew what Vi did, what she had done her entire life. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and anticipation wrapped around her like a shadow. But this time, something was different.

Beside you, Vi was ready, her gloves tightened, muscles tense beneath her shirt. The fierce look she shot at the man in front of her was nothing new; they had seen it dozens of times. But this time, something shifted in the air. Maybe it was the way she glanced at you, as if trying to make sure you were okay before the fight began. But you knew the man facing her wasn’t just another opponent. He was a guy with bad intentions and an overly confident smirk.

"Hey there, pretty," the man approached you with a smooth tone, his gaze far too bold as he caught you off guard. "Surely, you’ve got more to offer than just standing here watching your girl fight, right? Why don’t you come with me after this? I can make you forget all this chaos."

You didn’t expect that attitude, and your discomfort was evident, though you didn’t want to make a scene. You tried to keep calm, but the weight of the situation crept over you. However, before you could respond, the man gave your arm a touch, seeking your attention, breaking your personal space.

Vi didn’t think for another second.

With a low growl, like a caged beast, she approached him. Her eyes gleamed with fury, her body tense, ready to strike, but before she could, the man sneered.

"What’s the matter, sweetheart? Bothered by a little distraction?" the man taunted, his tone more provoking than sympathetic, as if testing how far Vi’s patience could stretch.

"I suggest you walk away," Vi snarled, the rage bubbling in her voice, as she stepped closer, her muscles marking a clear threat that she wouldn’t let anyone touch what was hers. But the man didn’t give her the chance to do anything. With a provoking smile, he tried to step closer to you, completely ignoring Vi.

Before he could get any nearer, Vi shoved him back with a sharp punch that echoed through the place. "I’m the only one who touches her!" Vi’s voice boomed with such intensity that the air seemed to freeze.

The crowd shuddered, expectant. The guy, who thought his attitude could intimidate, now found himself cornered by Vi’s fierce rivalry, his previously confident eyes now filled with a mix of surprise and fear.

"I told you to walk away," Vi repeated, her tone so grave that the man had no choice but to retreat.

The fight began.

The crowd dispersed as the bets continued, but Vi saw nothing beyond her target. Every punch she threw at her opponent was filled with fury. She wasn’t just fighting for money or respect; she was fighting for you. The idea of someone daring to look at you, touch you, think they could make you theirs, drove her to lose control in a dangerous way.

The man tried to fight back, but Vi, with her agility and strength, knocked him down once again, this time with a punch so powerful that the sound of the impact echoed in everyone’s ears. In seconds, he was already on the ground, defeated, and Vi stared down at him before turning toward you.

Your heart pounded as you watched the scene. Vi was drenched in sweat, breathing heavily, but her gaze was solely on you.

Vi walked toward you with the swagger of someone who had just won, her smile full of pride.

"Did you enjoy the show?" she asked, her tone softer but still carrying a hint of challenge.

"You really love putting on a show, don’t you?" you responded sarcastically, a playful smirk forming as you wrapped your arms around her.

Vi leaned in, her eyes darkening with intensity. "It’s not about the show," she murmured, her voice low and fierce. "I can’t stand anyone touching you or even thinking they can get close to you."

A grin tugged at your lips. "I love it when you get possessive," you whispered, your gaze locked with hers.

Vi’s expression shifted to one of amused delight before she pulled you into a wild, passionate kiss. "You’re mine," she growled against your lips, the ferocity of her claim sending a shiver down your spine.

You kissed her back just as fiercely, your hands tangling in her hair. "And you’re mine," you declared, your voice firm with equal possessiveness. The world around you faded into irrelevance, leaving only the two of you, caught in a storm of desire and fierce loyalty.

Caitlyn

The elegant gala in Piltover had unfolded without incident, as expected from an event of such magnitude. The city's high society was enjoying the evening, and you, as a special guest, were no exception. Caitlyn, always poised and reserved, had invited you to accompany her, and in her role as hostess, she was the center of many conversations. However, your presence hadn’t gone unnoticed by a few.

The soft murmur of conversation turned into something more charged when a man you hadn’t seen before approached with a calculated smile. Clearly part of the elite, he had an impeccable demeanor and the gaze of someone who knew how to get what he wanted.

"Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice how stunning you look tonight," the man said, smiling with a tone as smooth as it was dangerous. "I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you, but I believe I’d like to. Would you care to join me for a quieter drink? Perhaps we could find a more secluded spot to chat."

You quickly noticed his tone was more than a simple invitation, bordering on an insinuation that made you uncomfortable. You tried to smile politely, but before you could respond, you felt Caitlyn’s presence next to you.

Caitlyn’s response was cold as ice, but instead of speaking, she closed the distance between you and her with a grace that turned every head in the room. She placed a gentle yet firm hand on your waist, pulling you close, and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. The simple act silenced the murmurs around you, establishing her claim without a single word.

Turning to the man, Caitlyn’s voice was soft but carried a steely edge. "My partner isn’t interested in your offer," she said with a calm, unwavering gaze that could cut glass.

The man’s smile faltered but quickly returned, broader and more calculated. "Surely, she can speak for herself. Maybe she’s just being polite."

Caitlyn’s expression didn’t waver, but there was a glint of sharp amusement in her eyes. "I won’t repeat myself. The invitation is declined," she said, her voice like silk wrapped around steel. She took a step closer, her eyes narrowing slightly as she continued, "And I’ve heard whispers about certain irregularities in your financial dealings. I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to take a closer look, would you?"

The man's face paled as the words settled in, his bravado crumbling under the weight of Caitlyn’s veiled threat. Without another word, he mumbled an apology and quickly melted back into the crowd.

Once he was out of sight, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly. "You can be a bit extreme sometimes, you know that?"

Caitlyn turned to you, her eyes softening as a small smile curved her lips. "When it comes to you, I’ll do anything. I would go to any lengths for you."

Caitlyn’s words hung in the air, and without another thought, she gently pressed her forehead against yours, closing her eyes in a quiet, tender moment. The world around you seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you in the stillness. It was a gesture of love, of connection, so intimate that nothing else mattered. Slowly, she whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you held her close, both of you savoring the shared warmth and affection.

After a beat, you pulled back slightly, your eyes glinting with mischief. "But the event must go on, right? You can’t let one old, pretentious, corrupt man ruin your mood."

Caitlyn chuckled softly, the faintest blush rising on her cheeks as she glanced away, clearly embarrassed by the playful suggestion. "You really know how to make me laugh," she said, a genuine smile pulling at her lips as her usual composure returned.

"You have to show them how well Caitlyn Kiramman performs as a host," you teased, your voice playful. "A night like this is your stage, and that man doesn’t deserve to ruin the performance. Besides, you can’t let anyone think they can just mess with you."

Her laughter filled the air, and Caitlyn couldn’t help but shake her head at your teasing, the blush still present on her cheeks. Taking your arm with an elegant, almost theatrical gesture, she smiled at you. "Alright, let’s show them how it’s done," she said, the regal composure she always exuded returning in full force.

As you both walked away, side by side, the night unfolded once more, but it was clear—nothing, not even the interruption of a rude guest, could take away from the quiet, unspoken bond between the two of you.

Jayce

The night stretched on, filled with bright lights, laughter, and glasses of wine being raised in what seemed to be an exclusive gala of Piltover's high society. The crowd, elegant and wealthy, flowed through the hallways, engaging in lively conversations about scientific and political advancements, but you couldn’t help feeling out of place amidst so much luxury.

Jayce, always by your side, looked every bit the perfect gentleman in his perfectly tailored suit, smiling, but with a slight shadow of concentration that betrayed the way he observed the surroundings. As if he were seeing beyond the faces, detecting every detail. His fingers rested gently on your lower back as he guided you through the crowd, protecting you from any uncomfortable glance or word.

“Come on, it’s fine,” he said, smiling at you tenderly. “Just a little more patience, then we’ll leave.”

Before you could respond, a man, someone who clearly wasn’t unfamiliar to you due to his overly flashy style and even more obvious intentions, arrogantly approached, interrupting your conversation with Jayce.

“What a pleasure to see you here. The beauty of Piltover doesn’t stop at inventions, does it?” the man said in an excessively flattering tone, his eyes clearly evaluating you in an uncomfortable way. The way he approached wasn’t that of a friend or acquaintance, but rather of someone who was clearly interested in something more. He came too close, not to greet you in a friendly manner, but as if he were recruiting you for something you didn’t want.

You felt the growing discomfort in your chest. But before you could say anything, you felt Jayce’s presence beside you. Somehow, without the man saying another word, the space between him and you seemed to shrink. Jayce didn’t show aggression, but the aura of power that emanated from him was enough to make anyone think twice before continuing.

“Well, who would have thought tonight’s gala would be so… interesting?” Jayce said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, observing the man as if evaluating him from head to toe. “I wonder if your compliments are as easy to come by as they seem, or if it’s simply an innate talent of yours.”

The man stood silent for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Jayce wasn’t looking at him with disdain, but with a smile that was almost kind, though it left no room for doubt: he wasn’t welcome.

“You know,” Jayce continued in a soft voice, but with a hint of mischief that only he knew how to wield, “I think my lady here, doesn’t need any more empty compliments from someone who’s only interested in the surface. She’s here for her intelligence, for what she brings to the city. And I think that… is far more attractive than any cheap remark you could make.”

The man, caught by Jayce’s passive-aggressive tone, hurried to apologize and walked away, unsure of how to defend himself against the elegant subtlety with which Jayce had disarmed him.

Once the politician had gone, Jayce turned to you with a warmer smile, his eyes softening when he saw that you had remained silent, a little tense from the exchange.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently, caressing your arm delicately. “I don’t like it when you’re bothered, but you know I won’t let someone so… bland… get close to you like that.”

You smiled, relieved by his intervention but also a little overwhelmed by how perceptive he had been. “Thank you, Jayce. I didn’t know how… to handle the situation.”

He smiled tenderly, his eyes shining with confidence, as always. “You don’t have to,” he said as he got closer, gently cupping your face. He looked at you intently, and without warning, placed a soft kiss on your cheek, the gesture so full of affection that it made your heart skip a beat.

“But if you ever need help getting someone to leave you alone, you know I’ll always be here,” he said, his voice filled with sweetness and protection.

And as you continued walking through the gala, with the gentleness of his touch and his firm presence, you felt that, despite the challenges you sometimes faced, you had someone who knew how to handle any situation without losing his class or his affection.

Ekko

You're walking through the streets of the Undercity, a place known both for its decadent beauty and constant danger. Today seems to be one of those days when the city has a somewhat more chaotic air, but somehow, you feel more at peace than ever with him by your side. Ekko, as always, accompanies you with his relaxed attitude and that confident smile that rarely disappears from his face.

Suddenly, an unknown man appears out of nowhere, interrupting your conversation with Ekko. He gives you a blatant, shameless look, approaching you with the obvious intention of grabbing your attention. He’s the type who clearly believes he can have you with just a few words.

“Well, what do we have here?” he says, with a smug smile. “A beauty like you around here? I can’t imagine why someone so special is wasting their time with a guy like him.” He looks at Ekko, then shifts his gaze back to you. “I’m sure you and I could do great things together. What do you say? I could show you what it really means to live.”

Before you can respond, you notice Ekko, apparently unfazed by the situation. He stops, lets out a light laugh, and approaches, observing the guy with an expression that clearly shows he’s taking the situation as a joke.

“Seriously?” Ekko says in a playful tone, as if he were watching some kind of comedy show. “So, you’re offering my girl ‘what it really means to live’? Let me tell you something, buddy: if she really looked at you, you’d know you’re not even close to being ‘a big deal.’”

The stranger stands there a bit stunned, clearly not expecting such a direct response. Ekko continues, not wasting a second. “You know what? Don’t worry, I won’t waste your time. I’m sure you and your ‘great proposals’ have an audience somewhere else, but… seriously, I recommend you stop wasting your breath here.”

The guy seems confused, and seeing that Ekko isn’t remotely jealous or concerned, he tries to change his tactic. “Come on, don’t be like that, I was just being nice. I’m sure you don’t mind a little competition, right?”

Ekko looks at him with a wide grin, but it’s clear he’s taking nothing seriously. “Competition? Was that a threat or a joke? Because, seriously, if you thought I’d be worried, I think you’ve misunderstood everything. I don’t know if you’re used to dealing with people who don’t know what they want, but let me clarify something: don’t waste my time, buddy.”

The guy seems to finally understand that he’s not going to get anywhere and, somewhat embarrassed, walks away quickly, mumbling something incomprehensible as he retreats.

Ekko, seeing him leave, turns to you with a mocking smile. “See? He didn’t even bother to keep going. Like someone like him had a chance.”

You laugh at his carefree attitude and move a little closer to him, gently touching his arm. “Doesn’t it really bother you when someone approaches me like that?”

Ekko places a hand on his chest, acting as if he’s deeply hurt. “Bother me? No, not at all. I’m so sure of myself and what we have that those things don’t affect me.” Then, he smiles knowingly. “Besides, you know there’s nothing that guy could do to win me over. If you cared about anything else, you’d already know.”

You look into his eyes and, with a playful gesture, touch his cheek. “I don’t know if it’s confidence or arrogance, but I like it.”

Ekko laughs softly before leaning in a little closer to you. “What you like, girl, is that I’m the only one who can make you laugh even in the most ridiculous situations. And if that’s not what matters, I don’t know what does.”

Suddenly, he leans in and gives you a soft kiss on the cheek, as if it’s as natural as breathing. “Come on, let’s not waste any more time with guys like him. Let’s do something better. But before…” He stops for a moment, his playful gaze fixed on you. “Tell me, when did I learn to become this irresistible?”

The situation lightens with his relaxed attitude, and the confidence he has in what you two share makes you smile. With Ekko, there’s no room for doubt or worry. He knows what he has and how to handle anything that comes his way.

Silco

The meeting room is thick with the heavy atmosphere of a business that has no place in the light of day. The men around you are shadowed figures, accustomed to the illegality that runs like poison through the veins of the Undercity. Silco sits at the head of the table, his presence a shadow that dominates the space, and you’re beside him, as always. No one dares to look beyond his presence, and everyone knows that it’s not just his partner who must be respected, but you as well.

You’re his, that’s what everyone thinks. No one dares to say it out loud, but it’s clear in the air. The way he treats you, how he keeps you close to him at all times, how his gaze never leaves you. Silco doesn’t speak of what is obvious, but everyone knows. You are his in a way that no one dares question.

The meeting is tense, filled with discussions about contracts and dirty deals, but the tone shifts quickly when Finn, one of Silco’s oldest and most dangerous partners, leans back in his chair with a cocky grin. This guy’s been in the business for years and isn’t intimidated by the threat Silco represents. But this time, he’s gone too far.

“You know, Silco,” Finn begins, twirling a cigarette between his fingers, a mocking smirk on his face. “I think it’s a waste to have this beauty always by your side and not put her to work properly.” His laugh is bitter, full of malice, and his eyes fix on you with an unsettling intensity. “How about you let me borrow her for a day? Or better yet... how much would I have to pay to spend a night with her? You must be making a good amount from such a treasure, right?”

The air freezes instantly. The room falls silent, and even the toughest men know that a very fine line has just been crossed. Silco doesn’t speak for a moment; there’s something about his calmness that’s terrifying, a calm that always precedes a storm.

Silco slowly raises his head, his dark eyes fixed on Finn, his gaze as cold as steel. His face remains unchanged, but the atmosphere around him grows thick, dangerous.

The silence is absolute, and all eyes are on Finn, who is now visibly uncomfortable. However, Silco doesn’t budge. At that precise moment, his gaze shifts toward Sevika, his right-hand woman, who stands by the wall. Sevika’s imposing figure doesn’t need words to understand her boss’s intention. Silco gives her an imperceptible nod, and in an instant, Sevika moves with lethal speed.

In the blink of an eye, Finn is at the table, a loud thud fills the room as Sevika slams him against the surface, his face now smashed against it. Everyone watches in silence, as if the very air has stopped, knowing that Silco’s simple gesture has activated the kind of violence that should always be avoided in his presence.

“I’d suggest you think very carefully before you speak, Finn,” Silco says calmly, his gaze fixed on the humiliated man. “Because I don’t like anyone questioning what belongs to me, and certainly not disrespecting it like that.”

Finn staggers, slowly getting up, embarrassed and frightened. However, it’s not enough. Silco looks at him as though he’s observing a pest, and his tone is all Finn needs to understand this is his final warning.

“Now, apologize to her,” Silco orders, his voice almost a whisper of pure threat. “And do it in a way that reminds you how low you’ve fallen, because I’m not willing to tolerate such disrespect in my territory.”

The room is in absolute silence. The tension could be cut with a knife, and all present, even the toughest men, don’t dare make a single move. Finn, trembling, has no choice but to give in. He turns toward you, his face conflicted but clearly defeated, and his voice, full of humiliation, rises in the air. You almost felt sorry for him.

“I… I’m sorry,” he murmurs, shame and fear evident on his face. “I shouldn’t have spoken like that. I apologize.”

Silco doesn’t say anything, but his expression says it all. It’s a clear message: never again.

After a few seconds, the situation lightens slightly. Silco returns to his seat, and the room resumes its usual rhythm, though the fear still lingers in the air. No one will dare challenge him again.

When the tension finally dissipates, Silco turns toward you, and his gaze softens when he sees that you’re unharmed, calm. There’s an intensity in his look, a protective possessiveness that never fades. He takes your hand firmly, guiding you toward the exit of the room without saying another word.

Silco is not a man who needs to explain his gestures. His presence, his actions, speak for him. In his world, no one touches what belongs to him, and anyone who does will learn, like Finn, what it truly means to cross the line.

Mel

The council meeting is at its most tense, with politicians and businesspeople discussing agreements, but something in the air changes when a man, one of the most influential businessmen, dares to flirt with you. He leans toward you with an arrogant smile, throwing out bold comments.

"I’ve always wondered how someone as... attractive as you ends up next to a woman as cold as Mel," he says with a smile. "How about we grab a coffee later? I’m sure we could talk about things much more interesting than this boring meeting."

Silence spreads across the room. Everyone watches the situation, but Mel doesn’t change her posture. She stays silent, but the tension in her body is palpable. Something in the air tells you this is not a game she’s willing to tolerate.

"Do you dare talk about her like that?" Mel finally speaks, her tone soft but laced with threat. "Last time I checked, this meeting wasn’t a place for cheap advances."

The man, who had been confident, now looks visibly uncomfortable. "If you speak like that again, I assure you, it won’t be coffee you’ll be having, but a much... bitterer deal."

The threat is clear. All eyes focus on the man, who now seems small and uncomfortable. Mel doesn’t need to raise her voice for everyone to feel the weight of her authority.

"My apologies," he murmurs, embarrassed, not daring to look at them.

Mel responds with a cold smile. "I suggest you remember who’s really in control here."

The man nods quickly, speechless. Mel turns toward you, her calculating gaze fixed on you.

"Are you okay?" she asks, and though the question is soft, you know it’s a reminder that no one, not even him, will dare approach you in that way again.

You nod, feeling the security that only Mel can provide. No one will touch what’s hers.

"Let’s go," Mel says, rising gracefully. "We’ve got work to do."

The dynamic has shifted, and the room remains silent, but everyone knows Mel has made it clear who holds the power. You, being hers, are not only protected by her power but by her cunning and absolute control.

As you both leave the room, Mel stops at the threshold, looking at you with an almost evaluative expression.

"And don’t forget," she says quietly, "this is not just for you. It’s for everything you represent." She gives you a look that seems to assess your reaction, as if making sure you understand what’s at stake. "This is just the beginning."

The hallway is silent, but when you both take another step, Mel turns to you with a smile that, although subtle, carries a hint of satisfaction. "Never let anyone underestimate you, especially when they have no idea what they could lose."

She looks at you for a moment, and you realize that, beneath her power and control, there’s something else... something tender.

"I care for you because you’re mine," she whispers, but not possessively—more like a promise, as if she’s telling you that in this world of chaos, she will always be your refuge.

Before you can respond, Mel leans slightly toward you, capturing your lips in a soft kiss, but one full of intensity that leaves you breathless. It’s a short kiss, but enough to convey everything that can’t be said in words. The contact is warm, protective, and for the first time in a long time, you feel completely safe in her arms.

When she pulls away, her eyes seek yours with the unwavering confidence she’s always had, but now with something more. "Don’t forget this," she says, lightly touching your face. "No matter what happens, you’ll always be mine."

With a smile, she takes your hand, and without saying another word, you both continue walking.

Sevika

The hustle and bustle of the streets of Zaun echoes in the distance, but inside the tavern, the atmosphere is dense, heavy. The man approaches the table with that confident look, not as subtle as he thinks, and his words slide out like sweet poison.

"Well, who are you?" he says, smiling as his eyes boldly scan your figure. "A woman so brilliant, so... stunning, in a place like this."

Sevika doesn’t flinch, but you can see the tension ripple through her body, as if something dangerous is about to explode. Her eyes, cold as steel, follow the man while he continues talking, completely unaware of the danger he’s creating.

"I’m sure there’s more behind that facade," he says, getting closer, his voice too near your ear. "A beauty so rare, so unique, can’t just be a pretty face."

The discomfort grows inside you, but it’s Sevika who feels it first. Her expression shifts from calm to contained fury. She looks at you for a moment, as if asking for permission to act, and when your eyes meet, you know the situation is about to turn dangerous.

The man persists, but Sevika won’t tolerate it anymore. She stands up, her boots echoing on the floor with a firmness that makes everyone fall silent. Her words come out as a whisper, but they are loaded with a threat that everyone feels.

"If you don’t leave right now, I’ll make you wish you were never born," she says, her voice low, but her deadly tone unmistakable.

The man steps back, and his eyes finally show fear. Sevika gives him no space to react, her presence crushes him, forcing him to step back, and without saying another word, the man turns and disappears into the crowd, his ego shattered by Sevika's imposing figure.

She returns to her seat, the calm returning to her face, though the intensity of her gaze doesn’t fade. She looks at you, and for the first time, her lips curve into a smile that’s anything but kind. It’s pure possessiveness, a warning without words.

"Does it bother you when someone gets that close to you?" she asks, her tone almost playful, as if testing your limits.

You look at her, feeling the heat in your chest. There’s no fear, only confidence, because you know you’ll always have your strong, powerful woman by your side to protect you, to defend you from anything that tries to break the bubble you’ve built with her. You move closer slowly, her eyes never leaving yours.

"I feel fine," you reply with a seductive smile, letting your words linger between the two of you. "I know I’ll always have you—my strong, fierce, and captivating woman, who will always protect me." You flirt as you settle comfortably in her lap.

Sevika raises an eyebrow, a playful yet dangerous smile curling on her lips. Her hot breath brushes against your neck. "Good that you know," she whispers, her voice low and raspy, laden with a desire only you can understand. "Because as long as I’m by your side, no one will touch you. And the best part... is that you don’t even have to ask. I’ll take care of them in an instant."

"You’re so extra," you smile, biting her muscled arm playfully.

"Do you always have to do that?" she asks, not annoyed but intrigued, her hand gently petting your head.

"What can I say?" you reply with a teasing glint in your eyes. "It turns me on seeing you so jealous and possessive over me."

She growls softly, then grabs her beer, finishing it in one swift motion. Her gaze sharpens as she takes your hand.

"I think it’s time to head home," she says, her voice dripping with intent. "I plan to make the most of this behavior of yours while I can."

Sevika intertwines her fingers with yours, a silent promise that no one and nothing will dare cross that line. As the noise of the tavern continues, you and Sevika are momentarily isolated in your own world of protection, passion, and control—where only she holds the power to keep you safe.

[daryltwdixon]

Daryl x Reader fluff

prompt: "You can stop hugging me now." | "No, I don't think I can." @creativepromptsforwriting

Summary: Daryl returns from a long trip with something he found, quietly revealing that you’ve been on his mind all along. fluff. drabble.

a/n: just trying to get the writing juices flowing again, been feeling a little bit of a block so thought I'd try this prompt!

The sun hangs low, painting the woods over the fence of the watchtower in warm amber hues. You're peering through your binoculars as Alexandria stretches out behind you, quiet except for the occasional clatter of someone working on the fences. You have one earbud in, listening to your Walkman that's strapped to your hip. The tiny device is temperamental, but it still works, and it’s the one thread tying you to the world before everything fell apart. The music is just low enough that when you adjust your stance, scanning the perimeter again, a distant rumble draws your attention.

You lower the binoculars, squinting against the light until you spot it. The familiar shape of Daryl’s motorcycle cuts through the dusty road leading to the gates. A smile tugs at your lips as you turn to look over the railing down at the gate.

“Sasha,” you say, snagging your earbud out by the wire, “Daryl’s back. Open the gate.”

“Copy that,” she replies, composed and straight faced.

You watch as the gates roll open and Daryl rides in, the low growl of his engine fading as he kills the ignition. He swings off the bike, crossbow slung over his shoulder, and pauses, his eyes lifting to meet yours. Even from this distance, you catch the flicker of something in his gaze—relief, maybe, or something warmer.

“You just gonna stare, or you comin’ down?” he calls, his voice carrying easily in the still evening air.

You smile as you shout down at him, "I'm on duty!"

You watch as he shakes his head and makes his way over. Backpack in hand, he starts climbing the ladder to your perch. By the time he reaches the top, you’re already leaning against the railing, looping your ear buds up to put away. You really hope he can't see how your heart hammers in your ribs when he is near.

There’s something about him that always pulls at you, no matter how much you try to ignore it. Maybe it’s the way he moves, like he’s part of the world but never tethered to it, or the way he notices things without ever calling attention to himself. It’s in the roughness of his voice, the quiet steadiness of his presence, and the flashes of something softer beneath all the grit. You’ve caught yourself watching him more times than you’d like to admit—how his hands move when he works on his bike, the way his brow furrows in thought, the rare curve of his lips when he smirks. And now, with him this close, the familiar tug in your chest feels undeniable.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” he announces when he reaches the top, his voice hoarse from not seeing people for days. He crouches down in front of you, awkwardly pulling something from his bag. A small, rectangular cassette tape catches the light as he holds it out.

Your breath catches when you see the cover. It’s your favorite artist, one you thought you’d never hear again.

“Figured....well, you’re always listenin’ to that thing,” he says, gesturing toward your Walkman. His voice is gruff, but there’s a nervous edge to it, like he’s not sure how you’ll react. “Saw it. Made me...made me think of ya.”

You take it from him, fingers brushing over the cracked plastic of the case, lingering on the edges as if holding it too tightly might make it disappear. Flipping it over, you see the album cover, worn but intact, its familiar image bringing an ache to your chest. Your thoughts stumble, scrambling for something to say, but all you can focus on is the fact that Daryl thought of you. 

He thought of you.

While he was out there, risking his neck for the group, scavenging scraps of the old world, searching for strangers who might one day be allies—he thought of you. The image of him out there, surrounded by danger at every turn, with walkers and worse waiting in the shadows, and still having a moment to think of you, makes your chest tighten. Despite the chaos, the noise, the relentless fight to survive, you were on his mind. Not just as another member of the group, but as someone he cared about enough to bring back this small, fragile piece of comfort.

The thought is overwhelming, pulling the air from your lungs, leaving you dizzy with the weight of it. Because in a world where everything is fleeting, Daryl Dixon thought of you.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re moving. Your arms wrap around his neck, catching him off guard. He stiffens, his hands coming up to hover over you, almost unsure if he should touch you. After a heartbeat of not letting go, you feel his voice vibrating in his chest.

“You can stop hugging me now,” he grumbles, though his voice wavers just enough to betray him.

You tighten your grip, pressing your cheek against the warmth of him, breathing in the smell of musk, of pine and leather and cigarettes--so uniquely Daryl, “No,” you whisper, the words soft but sure. “I don’t think I can.”

For a moment, he doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe. Then, slowly, his hands settle on the small of your back, tentative but steady. The air between you shifts, quiet and charged, the unspoken things you’re both too afraid to say hanging in the space.

When you finally pull away, his cheeks are tinged pink, and he’s looking anywhere but at you.

“Thank you, Daryl,” you say, holding up the cassette tape like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever owned, "Seriously."

He shrugs, his eyes flickering to yours for just a second before dropping. “Ain’t nothin’.”

But the corner of his mouth quirks up, just a little, as he turns to climb back down the ladder, leaving you with the music, the sunset, and a heart pounding harder than it should.

[sammylkcho]

Hello

Heard you were doing epic requests...Telemachus x reader, if you already had ideas for this x reader go for it, if not, maybe the reader is a servant at the palace or it takes place after I can't help but wonder. No pressure to actually do this btw, I'm sure you getting too many requests to keep up with.

Have a nice day! <3

Howdy! I liked the idea of the request, and to make it less challenging for me to write, I decided to make Reader a personal (or close) servant to Telemachus

Warnings/Notes: none!

"Prince Telemachus, would you like me to bring up your dinner tonight? The suitors are still eating and helping themselves to numerous trays of food," you informed him in a formal tone, awaiting his response to see what orders he would give you.

Lately, Telemachus had opted to dine in the comfort of his room to avoid discomfort or any comments from his mother’s suitors. It wasn’t exactly proper, especially for him as the prince, since he was expected to accompany their "guests."

You had tried to gently persuade him, following his mother’s orders, not to be discourteous by leaving the suitors to dine alone. In the end, all those efforts were in vain. You understood that the prince had his reasons for avoiding the same table as them.

With your hands clasped behind your back, occasionally fidgeting nervously, you waited for the prince’s reply—even though you already had a good idea of what it would be.

"I'm not hungry, but thank you," the prince informed you, his tone clearly disheartened and subdued.

You made a visible grimace of displeasure and concern at his words. His demeanor didn’t sit well with you—not that you hated it, but his spirits hadn’t been the same since his argument with Antinous. Each passing day seemed to weigh on him more heavily, especially as the suitors grew increasingly impatient over the lack of a king being chosen.

You bit your lower lip, a tinge of doubt crossing your mind about what to do next. You didn’t want to simply fulfill your role as a servant this time.

Deciding to break that boundary, even if only for a moment, you chose to be Telemachus’s close friend—the one who had stood by his side all these years.

Without needing to say a word, you sat down beside him on the bed. That alone was enough to draw his attention.

The dim light of the two torches flickering in the room seemed to conspire in your favor, casting its glow over the prince’s face. You could see the bruises on his skin, now less swollen—a marked improvement from how they had looked just days ago—and the shadows forming under his eyes, the evidence of sleepless nights spent training or lost in thought.

You remembered those nights. The times you stayed up with him, watching him practice with his wooden sword when you were both still children, or when the two of you would sneak out of the castle. You thought of the moment he had cried in front of you, overcome by the helplessness of not knowing how to rid his home of the men who were taking everything from him—from his family’s food to their dignity.

Maybe it was instinct, or perhaps just muscle memory. As if your body already knew what to do, your hands rose gently to cradle his face.

Your thumb moved softly across his cheek, avoiding the areas where the wounds from his fight with Antinous were still tender.

“We’ll get those men out of here, and they’ll leave your mother alone, I promise.” You whispered, almost afraid that anyone other than him might hear.

Why were you the one making that promise? A simple servant of the castle, tasked with daily mundane duties, with no power except to stand by your prince. You prayed silently to the gods that your words would not be empty, that someday those men would be gone, and Odysseus would return to the home he’d left behind so long ago.

“That.. I swear by the gods, especially by the goddess Athena herself, they couldn’t have given me anyone better than you.” Telemachus murmured.

His voice was just a whisper, so soft that you almost doubted if you had heard him, but the weight of his words filled the space between you with a profound meaning.

Time seemed to pause as you felt his hand, warm and firm, resting over yours. It wasn’t scorching hot or uncomfortably cold; it was just the right warmth, as though it belonged there.

“That punch you gave Antinous must still be giving him a headache. Next time, land an even stronger one for me, but make sure you come out unscathed, okay?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes before a quiet, sheepish laugh escaped him. You couldn’t help but laugh along.

“With Athena’s strength on my side, I’ll make it happen,” he replied with a newfound confidence, his spirits slowly lifting.

Heat rushed to your face, crawling torturously to your cheeks, and you cursed inwardly, hoping the blush wasn’t too obvious to him.

“It better be. I’d rather not see your face battered again or listen to you complaining while I try to patch you up.” You joked, letting out a soft laugh as he groaned in mock protest.

You treasured moments like these. There were no suitors to humiliate him, no interruptions to break the fragile bubble of peace around you. It was just you and him.

And in your heart, you kept praying to the gods. For Odysseus to return soon. For a way to rid the castle of those men. For these fleeting moments of calm to last just a little longer.

[rotten-pomegranate]

ah I’m sorry. but I mean how they would do it differently?

How yandere adult trio would go about nonconing reader

Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, manipulation, pressuring, mentions of being pregnant, and bad after care

I live writing these so much I forgot to post this so sorry it’s been a while

/|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\

Chrollo

Chrollo doesn’t take you right away, everything costs something with him, he slowly starts introducing physical prices for stuff you want

It just build up until you ask for something big and the price is your body

He’ll be so reassuring and gentle while taking you, saying how it won’t hurt at all

You just have to relax for him and you’ll feel as good as him

After the first time you don’t have to ask for anything and he’ll be guiding you to the bed

The after care with Chrollo is great, drawing you a nice bath, letting you soak as long as you want while he orders you your favourite food

Hisoka

Hisoka is the type to make it obvious what his intentions are but wait it out just to see your anxiety slowly build

He wants you to be terrified by his very presence, he does like you, of course he likes you in his own twisted way but that doesn’t save you from his torment

He touches you more and more until one day he’s dragging you to the bedroom and pinning you down

Saying how he’s waited so long all while you either kick and scream or go completely limp and dissociate

Either way he’s not gonna stop until he’s realest at least twice

You don’t get any aftercare with him, he just leaves you in his room a sticky mess, if he’s feeling extra nice he might share his water with you

Illumi

He makes I very clear from the start that your to bear his children, wether you like it or not

He doesn’t wait long at all, comes to the bed your forced to share with him one night and simply tells you to take of you satin pyjamas he provided

He’s “fair” at lest in his eyes, telling you if you comply he’ll be gentle, the underlying threat is always there though, like if your not on your best behaviour he’ll make sure to be rough with you

The act itself is not as awful as you’d imagine, he’d prep you well and make sure to let you ease into things

And the aftercare is descent, he brings you water and cleans you with a towel, if your not to tired he’ll bring you to the shower with him and wash you with gentle hands

[comingyourlugubriousness]

"Like a shooting star, I will go the distance I will search the world, I will face its harms I don't care how far, I can go the distance 'Til I find my hero's welcome waiting in your arms" Lore and extras under the cut!

I finally caught up and finished the ENG chapter 7 in my game! Yippie!

It's part of me and @bunnwich canon that Yume and their brothers end up being in Lilia's dream for what feels like a loooong time. Time in dreams is percived differently, than the actually two days that passed in real time. So to Yume, the Ramshackle gang, and Sebek and Silver, could have very well spent what felt like a month in Lilia's war flashback. So at the end when they finally end up in Idia's dream their so happy to see him! And well you can't be in war flashback without learning new things. I imagine Yume and their brothers really hone into their skill sets and learn new ones. Yume learning more tacticians skills, learning survival skils, and I just think learning how to shoot a crossbow would be sick. Enhancing it with a few simple tips they had learned from Idia making bean day weapons, like adding a scope. They scrounge armour from fallen Silver Owls and broken armour donated from the fae soldiers. Meanwhile, I imagine Yuuta gets super good at making potions and poisons as well as shooting a longbow; coating their arrows with magics and poisions to fight dream soilders. Yuuhi learns more defense tactics and how to use melee weapons. I actually did a little sketch of how I imagine Yume's armour would look.

Yume's hair gets longer and their glasses frame breaks, so they have to convert them to goggles. Yume isn't strong so they have to rely on tricks, hiding, and sneak attacks to defeat Silver Owl soilders. Their future sight gives them an edge to in planning in prep. They also rely on a ghillie suit/cloak they make with Yuuta to stay hidden. Those are the suits that help you blend in with your enviornment. Example:

For comradery they based the hood of their cloak to look like a bear, helping them almost be a part of the more animal themed fae soilders. I imagine inbetween the canon events and stuff their theorizing about Malleus's dream magic and what to do to fix it; they are also making notes like crazy and occasionally drawing their beautiful boyfriened Idia to cope and acting like their actually in war writing letters lol. (Their so dramatic ) I imagine one day one the soilders see it and says something to them in their fae language. Sebek translates an its. "He says the drawing of your wife is beautiful." And Yume thinks its so fucking funny, but also its one of their first nice things the soldiers have said to them so they just role with it. Anyway its just this meme:

[eybefioro]

HAPPY HOLIDAYS @ghostsparrow 💛💛💛

The TNAN server hosted a secret santa, and Sparrow said he love pirates AUs and space AUs. I immediately thought about treasure planet, so here it is <3 thank you @captainblou for organising it!!!

Wacky races - fairly odd parents - powerpuff girls - scooby doo - adventure time - Cowardly dog - JJBA

(Time-lapse and ramblings under the cut)

Extra long Time-lapse this time as a THREAT.

I remember NOTHING about Treasure Planet's plot, but the ✨️Aesthetics✨️ are seared in my brain forever. I mean-

HOW COOL IS THAT. I love this retrofuturistic(?) Style, the mix between robots and cyborgs and SPACE with uniforms and SHIPS. It's just soooooo good.

I didn't really followed 100% this Disney style, more the idea of it. I've been trying to find my footing and draw stuff without replicating each stylistic choice. Idk if I succeed or not but it was fun!

One thing about this is that even if it's not perceptible here, the perspective is a bit huh... different. I had to figure it out by trial and error, and this end up having 4 focal points.

(Sorry this prob doesn't make that much sense but it was the only way for me to show it lol)

DO YOU SEE THOSE NICE RED AND GREY LINES?? I learned how to use rulers on ibispaint and NOW I AM UNSTOPPABLE. I know how to draw perspective by hand, on paper, but on my phone it was impossible. The screen is too small, and the precision too crappy since I don't have a proper pen. But now with this thing I can assure the line is straight and that direction is right, and now I can do nice perspectives hell yes!

This drawing I did of muriel and Eric is were I was testing stuff out. The rulers, the perspective, the not copying any style thing.

I'm not super satisfied with the end result of this perspective here, bc I wanted to make something more warped, more dynamic/stretched but I really don't know how to do that yet so simple perspective it is lol

This drawing was also supposed to accompany a fic, but it took me too long to do this, so I didn't had the time to write it. Maybe one day...

Now with details that I liked:

STAR FRECKLES THAT FLOAT OVER CROWLEY'S FACE! Also he needs sunscreen. Have tou seen his thighs? LMAO

The rendering g on Aziraphale’s clothes! Especially the trousers. I think this might be my best clothes that I painted so far. I'm getting better at this :D I was inspired by Aziraphale’s bastille and Edinburgh looks, + Mr Fell magician cape (and also the uniforms from treasure planet). I hope it looks OK in the end, I had too much fun mixing all this together lol

Earth colonised by two opposing forces. I spent too long playing with this concept and how to draw it lol I hope it looks nice!

[zuzu-fairys-tail]

Just a little rant about the hyq.

i think weve all realized that in hyq all the characters are ooc. tbh i think that the reason is cuz mashima doesnt write them anymore.

i think the only part of the story he actually does the story board of is like the main fights and just a general gist of what is to come.

the reason i think this is that in the one shot that was released a few days before the hyq anime was written by him and all the characters seemed much more in character. like how gray and natsu actually fought alot and gray stripped much more and ichiya just somehow being there and erza being her strict but goofy self.

i think smth that proves this is when a fan asked mashima to draw lucy in a pisces star dress, he had no idea yukino even had star dresses.

this also probably explain why nalus relationship feels so completely unlike their relationship in og ft and why alot of characters feel so ooc, ueda doesnt know how to write these characters. he cant write them in the way mashima did. hyq doesnt have the super emotional moments that the og ft had. the only one i can remember of the top of my head is when lucy was afraid of natsus flames for the first time but i think mashima wrote the first few arcs which is why they seem more fleshed out.

also i absolutely hate uedas art style. they look like their 15 when theyre in their early 20s and wendy looks 10. unlike when mashima drew them and wendy actually grew.

i just had to get this out of my head lmao

[sadlynotthevoid]

An enstars social media fic with outsider pov included (aka, fans and the public) must be very funny because then you'd have:

• Random no idol fan person asking why is a highschooler going around with a sword.

• Video compilation of Rei Sakuma acting like a vampire.

• Video compilation of Rei Sakuma acting like an old man.

• Conspiracy theories about Eichi Tenshouin and how he "is totally hiding something guys. I don't trust him!"

• "Yes. Wataru. He's hiding Wataru. Look at his hair! That guy can't be human." As a reply to above.

• Alkaloid spotted accounts because they still believe they're not actually famous.

• Regarding the above point, Mayoi's photos are mostly purple blurs or dark corners where you can see a figure who somehow the fans know it's Mayoi.

• Aira's are taken mostly at idol events— others' idol events. A moment you're waiting in the line with your friend, the next you look back and realize the dude behind is Aira from Alkaloid.

• Tatsumi is greeting or smiling at the person behind the camera in most of his, except when he's getting out of a car. Then he's smiling the brightest— and everyone else is pretty much not.

• Hiiro's are a mix of 'spending time with friends/his brother' or a selfie with the person with the camera after he almost gave them a heart attack by dissapearing and reappearing right next to them.

• Shun's accounts in anywhere having an apparently random number added at the end. It actually is the number of the times he had to get a new account to the date.

• Madara fans putting his face in cowboy pictures and cowboy memes the same.

• Madara putting his face in cowboy memes himself and refusing to use normal ones.

• Kanata logging in once a month to post the name of a submarine creature and nothing else during the rest of the day. Sometimes with a picture for reference, which can vary from a photo of the species to a bad drawing of a fish.

• Madara evolving to put his face on mom memes.

• Someone jokingly asking Madara if he can adopt them and getting a positive answer. But they have to call him Mama.

• Hiyori's fans asking him every morning what's the veredict. If he answers Good Hiyori, they rejoice and act like they're going to have a great day. If the answer is Bad Hiyori, they rejoice and take meassures to prepare themselves for a shitty day.

• No one knows if they actually have good or bad days as per Hiyori's answer.

• Occasionally, Hiyori is going to reply with a Good Hiyori but remind to take their umbrellas anyway.

• In an interview, Hiiro is made a question about what song did he enjoy performing the most and he answers sunny trip summer. Immediately Aira affirms that is because he wants to eat lemons. The conversation sidetracks and now no one know if that is the real reason or not, just that Hiiro likes lemons a lot.

• "Alkaloid sidetracking compilation" and the video is four hours long.

• Sakuma Ritsu falling asleep video compilation.

• The rest of Crazy:B exposing Rinne for fun and revenge every so often. It goes from stories from when he just arrived to the city (once he got Niki really pissed off) to his latest act of brotherly pride to, one time he made HiMERU snap, finding any embarrasing moment of his and @-ing Hiiro at it.

• [Many days] since Eichi had to be ingressed into the hospital.

• Hokuto-senpai.

• Knights posting a photo of a small part of the lyrics for their new song:

"what kind of writing tool is that?"

"is that ketchup?"

"why is it written in ketchup"

"Mustard doesn't have the same effect."

• "If I had a nickel for every time [an idol used ketchup to write on non-edibles] I'd had two nickels, which is not a lot but is weird it happened twice".

• "It happens more than you'd think". Actual ES member response.

• People asking Koga to recreate the fight with the guitar.

[milliesfishes]

Billy comforting you when you’ve had the worst day and just break down in his arms and life just feels too much

writing this to be self indulgent rn because I'm beyond rn

౨ৎ꣑ৎbilly when you've had a bad day౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

The door opened, and his boots clunked on the floor as he walked in, but you didn't stir, lying sideways on the floor by your bed. Your eyes were closed. You didn't feel like moving, simply letting everything pass you by. There was a sad part of you that didn't want to throw away any day, but a worse part that wanted it to be over. Today had been a wreck.

"Honey?" Billy's voice barely pierced your senses, and you opened your eyes lazily. "I'm home!"

On a normal day, you would have gone to greet him, folded your arms around his neck and told him how happy you were to see him. Not that you weren't now. His presence settled a smidge of relief on your shoulders.

"Where are you?" Billy was close to the bedroom now, and you heard him open the door. Now he'd surely see you. "Hey-what are you doing? You okay?"

A gentle pair of hands found your sides, lifting you off the ground and leaning you against something warm and solid. You leaned your cheek against him- an instant response. Billy kissed your forehead, clasping you close as he pulled you to sit over his thigh. "What happened, baby?"

Your lower lip began to tremble, but you tried to stop it. "I fell."

"Fell?" You didn't have to look to know his brow was creasing. "'n you couldn't get up?"

"Bad day," you whispered, still trying to keep it together.

"Oh, sweetheart." Billy adjusted you, his hand splaying over your tummy. "I'm sorry." His voice was gentle, and you felt tears stubbornly prick at your eyelids. Not wanting to cry, you pushed your face into his chest, a sniffle betraying you. Fingers hooking on one of his shirt buttons, you hung on for dear life.

"C'mere, baby. Let's come up here." Billy managed to maneuver you onto the bed, and as soon as he joined you, you were snuggling back into his chest. Ignoring the dirt on his clothes from riding, you took in a deep breath. He still smelled like him. Like your Billy.

The familiarity of it all broke down your walls. Tears started coming and they wouldn't stop, soaking Billy's shirt as your breaths stuttered. He moved his hand to your crown, holding you there and using his other to keep you pressed to his side. "Shh, shh. I've got you. I'm here." You nodded, a little sob escaping. Billy didn't miss a beat, pressing his lips to your hair. "I know, I know." Beginning to stroke her back, he murmured, "What happened, my love?"

Still sniffling, you started to speak, your words hitching here and there. "I w-woke up later than I wanted to and-d I barely got anything done and there's still wash to do and I fell and s-so there wasn't any time to really ma-ake dinner and then I fell again."

He was quiet all through your explanation, but when you finished, his arms wound around you. It was like he was building a shell around you, something unbreakable by whatever else the day could possibly throw at you.

"Oh, sunshine," Billy whispered, turning sideways to hold you better. You hid your face in his chest, his scent completely enveloping you. Horses, worn leather, the faintest whiff of gunpowder. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. That must've been so hard."

"I missed you," you mumbled, and he held his lips to your forehead.

"I missed you too." Billy pressed a few fast kisses to your hair. "My girl...it's gonna be all better, okay? We're gonna make it all better."

He was speaking so sweetly that you believed him. Billy lifted you up under your arms, sitting you in front of him. You sniffled, lifting your hand to brush away any other tears. "Better?"

"Yeah," he promised softly, looking into your eyes and cupping your cheek. "You wanna get into something more comfy?"

Your lips lifted just a little bit when you realized what he meant. He took that as a yes, standing up and retrieving a clean shirt of his from the drawer. He unbuttoned your dress carefully, pulling it over your head. The feeling of the well-worn fabric on your skin only further served to help you relax. Billy took one of the blankets from the foot of your bed and dragged it over your shoulders. "I brought some strawberries from town. That sound good?"

Nodding, you pulled the blanket edges around yourself as he trailed into the kitchen. Your heart nearly felt warm with how sweet he was being. Billy's job was rough, and he endured far more hardship in a day than you could imagine. And still he never once made you feel bad if you had a rough day.

"Here you are," he smiled, setting a bowl of sliced strawberries in your hands. Billy sat behind you, pulling you to sit between his legs. While you ate he was quiet, keeping a hand over your midsection and letting you lean back into his chest.

When your fork scraped the bottom of the bowl, Billy took it out of your hands, setting it on the nightstand. "Better?"

You smiled, happily cozied up in his arms. He began to rock you back and forth, and a little giggle escaped you. "Better. I love you."

"I love you too, sunshine." Billy kissed your hair. "You're a sweetheart, y'know? You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

It only made your smile grow, and you snuggled into his chest. "Billy."

"There's my girl." He was still rocking you, cheek against your hair. "We're gonna get some sleep, okay baby? It's gonna be all better in the morning."

"Yeah." You were already drifting off. He pulled the blanket over your legs, swaying gently back and forth. "Sleep."

Your eyes were closed, so you couldn't see him smiling, but you knew he was.

[platinumink]

Headcanon Vol.2: Odysseus had unruly hair in his youth but grew out of it but Telemachus now has to deal with it and Ody helps his son and it all ends in a beautiful hurt/comfort moment

Not as good as my other headcanons for this fandom but I really do think about situations where Telemachus is just struggling to tidy his hair which is just going crazy all of the time and is about to give up when Odysseus strolls into the bathing area and notices his sons struggles.

Not wanting to embarrass him any further after the whole clothes stealing shenanigans, he simply nods in hello and does his thing with cleaning himself. When he's done, he notices that Telemachus is still not any closer to figuring out his hair so he comes over and mentions how he also had impossible-to-deal-with hair and age and growing it out (the added weight) helped with it's upkeep but he did have some tricks he learned to aid the issue.

So he tells his son about it who becomes completely enraptured in the story, not wanting to miss a single word his dad tells him. Telemachus asks for tips and Ody asks if it would be okay to show him and his son agrees.

Ody spends the next hour ir so explaining hair care for curly hair to his son, going over herb tinctures and oils he can use to make his hair submit to his will without damaging it as well as special brushes and movements that help with detangling and finally braids that help with the right curl forming overnight. It becomes a whole thing with them and even though Telemachus gets the hang of it very quickly, he keeps on asking his dad to do it for him and Ody is bever going to decline because quality time with his dearly missed son is everything to him.

So during their hair care moments, they talk about each others days, what they were going to do the day after and eventually, Ody feels confortable enough to confide in his son as well about his Odyssey (hehe) and they things he went through and had to do and Telemachus is then there for him, reassuring him and comforting him as well.

Eventually Telemachus does his dads hair as well so they can spend even more time together.

Penelope does know about this because of course Ody had to tell her all about how much he loves his son and how much he enjoys their new father son bonding moments, but one day, when she enters the bathing area earlier than usual, she sees the two of them and observes their little time together. She does not intervene because while she also loves her son deeply, she will allow her husband to have this time for himself to catch up on all of the lost time.

I also imagine their time together always ends with them touching foreheads (because I am a sucker for those between parents and their kids), hugging and Ody kissing his sons hair. They then always leave the baths together before Telemachus artives at his room first where they hug again and wish each other a restful night and then Ody leaves fir his own room and lies down beside his wife, talks with her just as long about their days and then they fall asleep in each others arms thoigh Odys head is 100% on Penelopes chest to hear her heartbeat because he has still trauma from Calypsos bullshit and needs it to convince himself that he is home.

He then sleeps, thinking about his family.

And now i've brough myself to tears yet again. 😭🩵

Also if anyone wants to write or draw something with this, you of course have my full permission. Just tag me please, I want to say thank you and admire your work 😭🙏🏻🩵

[redux-iterum]

Sorry for all the questions from me recently,, but I've been planning to write a fanfic that takes place before pinestar exists in riverclan, blast to the past if you will! I just wanted to ask if you have any tips or advice because I really look up to your writing!

No worries about questions! I'm happy to answer if I can. I'll try to give some advice on writing in general, and hopefully it'll help you.

Figure out what pace will help you keep going on the project, fanfic or original, and work with that. If writing 200 words a day every day or 1k words every three days is your comfortable speed and keeps you from getting exhausted, then don't force yourself to Stephen King it and write an excess of 2k every single day. Your goal is to enjoy yourself here and keep going until it's completed. It won't be worth it if you suffer the whole time.

That being said, at times you may need to strap yourself down and just get through the part you don't want to write. This requires some discipline and self-training, but it is doable. The reward of getting to the part you're excited about is completely worth the work of writing when bored. I can very much promise you that. Every single thing I've ever worked on, I've had to force myself to keep writing/drawing at some point, and every time I've been happy that I worked until I got my reward of the part I was psyched to get to. Hell, I'm doing that right now with the next book in this series! And, fun fact, the more you do it, the easier it gets. Sort of like exercise!

If you need to plan ahead of time to finish a project like I do, then you might could borrow my method of planning: write down one or a couple sentences describing the overall, most basic idea of the plot (literally just something like "[Character] in RiverClan finds a secret plot by [other character] to overthrow the leader, stops them, and then discovers that they were right to be suspicious about the leader's secrets and helps oust the leader"); write down all the story beats and character moments you have in mind in no specific order; break down the plot into more chewable chunks using the aforementioned beats and moments to help you figure out the connecting veins to each chunk; and from there, go smaller and smaller as needed until you have enough to work with that you're comfortable writing. I personally like to write a summary of each chapter as well - all of them - before starting to actually write those chapters. It helps me keep track of everything and prevents me from fucking up the story I had in mind by being impulsive and forgetting the plan.

Even if you love a moment, character or line of dialog, if it isn't working with everything else and is disrupting the flow of the story, don't be afraid to throw it out. It's hard and I hate doing it myself, but sometimes it's just time to get rid of something you're attached to. "Kill your darlings" doesn't just mean killing a character you like, it means taking out things that you love no matter how much it feels like ripping out a tooth. You can always find a way to use whatever it is later in something else.

If you have a willing beta/editor, by GOD, ask for their help. A second set of eyes is crucial to ensuring the quality of your story. The thing is that you're too close to your creation to know for sure if it's good to everyone else - even if it genuinely is amazing, you have no idea because you made it. Having someone outside the circle of sentiment to read and say, "Hey, this dialog doesn't sound very realistic" or "Huh, I thought this piece was foreshadowing something else, maybe clear that up a little" is, while painful to your ego, more precious than a pot of gold. Appreciate the critique you get. It's awesome for your growth. Do know that not all critique is going to be helpful to your specific writing style, but a lot of it is very much worth paying attention to and taking a minute to mull over and decide whether to humor it or not. This, too, you will get better at differentiating over time.

All this said, remember that if you're not getting a paycheck, you're doing this for fun. You are under no obligation to finish a story that's making you miserable. You'll have to learn the difference between "fic I'm in a boring moment of" and "fic that's actively harming my mental wellbeing because I feel obligated to complete it", and sometimes you'll need a second person to voice your thoughts to in order to judge that. If it sucks, hit da bricks! Don't punish yourself for having to stop, or even just taking a break. A fanfic is not worth your sanity. Trust me on this.

That shit got long and I apologize. Hopefully this helped!

[skimmingmilk]

Any Shadow and Tails hcs?

Sorry this took a minute, anon! I had written up several headcanons a few days ago and then my browser crashed and I lost everything I wrote ^^;; it took a minute to find the motivation to write them up again. 

I wasn't sure if you only wanted headcanons of Shadow and Tails in relation to each other, or if you wanted separate ones for them as well, so I tried to think of a little of both! 

Shadow:

Though black coffee is his drink of choice, Shadow also enjoys a cup of rooibos tea when he's looking for something a little more relaxing. Decaffeinated coffee doesn't quite do it for him. And he only drinks his coffee hot. He judges Rouge whenever she gets an iced latte.

He's very good at painting nails, but only Rouge knows this. She's the only one he'll offer to do it for - and it's always in exchange for something like intel or tech. He learned how for the bad days where Maria couldn't keep her hands steady and got frustrated. He'd paint her nails so she could feel pretty.

Shadow likes Barry Manilow (this is mostly a joke xD …mostly). But seriously, I do think he enjoys listening to a wide variety of music though. He was limited to what tapes they had on the ARK, a lot of it whatever the scientists and Maria liked listening to, so he enjoys experiencing different genres of music just to get a feel for them. He doesn’t necessarily like all music, but there’s something to be said for just experiencing it, even if he doesn’t like it. He’s also intrigued by live music, especially since Maria was just starting to learn to play guitar when her parents sent one up with the supply ship for her twelfth birthday. That was the only experience he'd had with live music until arriving on Mobius.

Tails:

Though he drinks coffee, he does it out of pure necessity. His taste buds are still a kid's, after all, so he loads up his caffeine with sugar, flavored syrups, whipped cream, and marshmallows. When he discovers cold brew, he finds that a bit more palatable since the beans aren't made as bitter by the heat when roasting them, but he still needs flavors and cream. He actually prefers energy drinks if he’s looking for a caffeine boost, but coffee makes him feel more grown-up. Yes, even with the marshmallows.

He doesn’t read as much fiction as Sonic, but he does have a pretty large collection of comic books and graphic novels. There are some series he’s followed since he was little, which offer a bit of stability/familiarity for him when not much was a constant in his life aside from Sonic and fighting Eggman.

When he was little, Tails begged Sonic to teach him guitar. He was quickly embarrassed though, because it wasn’t something he took to naturally. They made a little progress, but as he got older he stopped asking for lessons as much, so Sonic assumed he lost interest. But sometimes when he knows Sonic’s not going to be around for a while, Tails will take out the guitar and practice by himself, though he never tells Sonic about it.

Shadow and Tails:

Shadow doesn’t actually have beef with Tails. When Team Dark came across Team Sonic in Sonic Heroes for the first time since the events of SA2 and started fighting, Shadow identified Tails as their aerial support and would save his teammates from falling into the jungle river. He also picked up on the fact that Sonic’s battle tactics focused primarily on protecting his team, and that he was holding back from full-out attacking Shadow. Part of him wanted to see that blue hedgehog’s full potential, though he couldn't really pinpoint why at the time. So it was a strategic decision to take out Tails first by kicking him in the head, nothing personal.

Scratch that, Shadow does have beef with him whenever he catches Tails drinking cold brew (this is also a joke lol, if he didn't fight the kid over putting marshmallows in his coffee, he's not gonna fight him over cold brew).

Tails has better accuracy than Shadow with a firearm, but Shadow is a quicker draw and has a faster reaction time. They both prefer to use non-lethal ammunition as a method of stunning opponents, though the Tornado and Cyclone do have lethal weaponry systems, however, since Tails often needs as much firepower as possible when going against Eggman’s air fleet. But those are just robots, so it's okay!

Tails is one of the few people who knows Shadow’s “birthday,” or at least, his “creation day.” He learned it by going through G.U.N.’s files when Amy asked him to, because she really, really wanted to know when his birthday was. He only looked it up after she promised not to throw a party for Shadow (she wasn’t going to, Tails, she just wanted to get him a card and a little gift!). Rouge is the only other person who knows his birthday - also from G.U.N.’s files - but she knows Shadow doesn’t want to be fussed over too much, so keeps everything low-key as well.

I think that's enough for now! I feel like I'm not as good at writing up headcanons independently as I am incorporating them into fics, but I hope this was along the lines of what you were looking for, anon! If you have more specifics hcs you're curious about, let me know :)

Thank you for the ask!

[the-sea-called-history02]

How Stray Kids say, “I love you,” without saying it (hyung line)

Genre: fluff

Warnings: mild cursing

Bang Chan

Spoils you

This man loves nothing more than to spoil the ever-loving shit out of you. He knows he can’t always be there, and the guilt of that eats him alive all the time, so he takes every chance he gets to buy you any and everything he can. You’ve told him a million times that he shouldn’t buy you such expensive gifts, but he won’t have any of that. You’re his whole world outside of Stray Kids, and he just prays that his gifts can make up for the time he has to be away from you.

“Jokingly” calls you the boys’ mother

Originally, it was Jeongin who started the joke because you had asked him to do something around the house, to which he responded with an eye roll and an, “okay, mOm,” but it kind of just stuck, and Chan can’t get enough of it. He’s someone who prioritizes family over everything, so any chance he can include you in that, he will take it in a heartbeat.

Lee Minho

Craves your touch

He might not seem like it, but skz themselves have said that Minho is the most romantic member. He’ll try to be subtle about it, but you’ll somehow always find his hands on you in some way. Whether it be lightly squeezing your hand, tracing his fingers across your back, or even a little boop on the nose, he’s always finding some sort of reason to touch you.

Defends you

If there’s one thing Minho NEVER plays about, it’s how precious you are to him. Therefore, he is most certainly not going to tolerate anyone speaking poorly of you. He will be the first to block “fans” that have something hateful to say about your relationship. It dumbfounds him that people who don’t know either of you think they can comment on the most important person in his world and then act buddy-buddy with him. He won’t think twice about lashing out if it’s for you.

Seo Changbin

“Did you eat?”

Such a simple question that holds so much meaning to Binnie. Like Chan, he wants you to know that he’s always thinking about you, even when he’s a million miles away. He also wants you to know that the pressure to be “perfect” that he faces day-to-day should never be a burden you face, and that starts with having a healthy relationship with food and your body. (Plus, he’s lowkey looking for ideas on what he should have for lunch, so please send him food pics.)

Credits you in his songs

After all the late nights you’ve pulled just to keep him company while he works, you deserve a spot in the credits just as much as he does, in his mind. Especially if he’s writing a love song because who else could he have ever written that about? Might even give you a stage name if your relationship is private so you can both laugh at stay going out of their minds, theorizing who this new writer working with skz is.

Hwang Hyunjin

OOTD’s

Loverboy™ has 3 passions. Art, dance, and adding to his portfolio of daily photos of you. He stops you anytime you’re about to leave the house to get a quick pic of your ootd, whether it’s just sweats and an old t-shirt, or a full evening gown, he has an insatiable appetite for the goofy, awkward poses you do anytime he whips out the camera. To him, every photo of you is more precious than gold, and he is not above throwing a mini tantrum if you forget to send him daily pictures while he’s on tour.

Collects your drawings

You could have the art skills of a three-year-old on crack, but this man would still take your napkin doodles and keep them in a special scrapbook. Draw on his arm, and he’ll proudly wear it like a badge of honor, taking pictures so he can still have it after he has to wash it off. Definitely the type to drunkenly get one of your quick sketches tattooed and not have a single regret about it in the morning.

[nemoredraw]

Can we get a full Nemo (your oc) body drawing? And some notes about them! I’m invested in his story and his deal!!!

[TRIGGER WARNING] Violence, drugs, etc.

Of course!

Here are some reference drawings I usually use.

Fun facts about Nemo Arkham:

• Skilled in mechanics: Surprisingly, he does quite well fixing and understanding the workings of many vehicles or even gadgets.

• Firearms proficiency: Despite always carrying two pistols, he’s not very skilled with them. He prefers to play with the element of surprise in close combat. He still has a lot to learn about firearms but is quite adept with melee weapons (though explosives require less effort for him).

• Fashionable: He likes to dress well, usually in elegant suits, even in complex situations. It has become a symbol of his identity.

• Smokes anywhere: Even in tricky situations, he smokes. Let’s just say it helps him think.

• Great actor: He always likes to keep everything under control. When things slip out of his grasp, he becomes overwhelmed and desperately tries to regain control. He never does anything without a double intention, making it hard to trust him. He always seems to be playing with those around him. Nemo has excellent manipulation skills.

• Multilingual: He speaks several languages—Russian, German, Japanese, French, Spanish, and English. He is most fluent in Spanish and English. His origins are European, though the specific region is unknown.

• Empathy for children: This is the one area where he shows genuine empathy, likely because it reminds him of his childhood.

• Feminist: Despite his identity as a villain, he always defends women, viewing them not as sexual objects but as people.

• Spending habits: He doesn’t care much about spending money and is often surrounded by luxury, but only when he’s with others. In the quiet of his home, he’s content with a good bottle of whiskey and regular cigarettes.

• Solitary: He dislikes having close relationships, believing they could become a weakness others might exploit.

• Body modifications: He has a navel piercing.

• Transgender: He transitioned at a young age, and since his body hadn’t developed much yet, transitioning to male was easier for him.

• Heir turned soldier: Nemo is an heir but was raised more like a soldier or a weapon, always under his father’s yoke.

• Self-grooming: He cuts his own hair, which is why it always looks rather messy.

• Drug addiction: He’s addicted to a new drug called ASH BONE. He usually consumes it alone since (depending on the dose) it puts him in a state of chemical submission. A small dose only relaxes him.

• Goal (spoiler): Nemo’s objective is to destroy Batman and Gotham, no matter the limits he has to cross.

• Slade Wilson’s role: Slade trained him in hand-to-hand combat for a period of his life. Nemo never liked Slade. (Spoiler) When Nemo escaped his father’s grasp, he was kidnapped and tortured to break his will. Slade oversaw the torture, administering the experimental drug ASH BONE for the first time, making Nemo addicted.

• Shade the cat: As a child, Nemo adopted a black cat named Shade.

• Connection with Damian: The only member of the Batfamily he gets along with is Damian. He understands his anger and pain, so they connect perfectly, even though they maintain a lot of emotional distance. Nemo gave Damian those little star-shaped clips.

• Nicknames for Batman: Nemo ironically calls Batman “the emo who listens Deftones.” (He has many nicknames for the Batfamily: “the bats,” “winged rats,” “the emo squad,” “the darkness,” “the dark divas,” etc.)

(I could go on all day writing more random facts about Nemo, but I don’t think many people would care, haha!)

[gatheringfiki]

GatheringFiKi - Events Calendar 2025

Thank you to all those who voted in our recent poll. Based on the results and my own availability, here's the Events Calendar for 2025:

8th of February 2025 - Drabble Challenge 9 - Announcement

15th - 16th of February 2025 - Drabble Challenge 9

23rd of March 2025 - Kink Bingo* - Announcement

29th of March 2025 - Kink Bingo - Cards posted, Collections open

29th of Mar - 27th of Apr 2025 - Kink Bingo - Stories/art posted

31st of May 2025 - FiKi Week - Announcement (Themes/Prompts)

28th of June 2025 - 4th of July 2025 - FiKi Week - Stories/art posted**

11th of October 2025 - Trick or Treat - Announcement

18th - 31st of October 2025 - Trick or Treat - Prompts available***

15th of November 2025 - 12 Days of Christmas - Announcement, Photosets become available

13th - 24th of December 2025 - 12 Days of Christmas - Photosets/stories/art posted

Notes under the cut:

* No H/C Bingo this year, as last year it had literally no responses.

** No Durin's Day Exchange this year, as Durin's Day falls on 21st of October, so it would clash with Trick or Treat

*** All of the Trick or Treat Prompts will available upfront on the start of the event, so you can choose easier which prompts to write/draw and pour your creative energies into, and you don't need to wait for a response from me to provide you with the next prompt.

I also debated running AUpocalypse, as it came high in the responses ranking, but in the end decided that we've had one more recently than the Kink Bingo. Potentially, the idea going forward would be to alternate between those two events year on year.

Finally, quick update on the GatheringFiKi Community (I asked about it last year): I have tried to create such a community twice so far. Each time I'm getting 'awaiting approval' stage and then it gets no further. If I do manage to create it at some point, you can all expect invites into the Community and you're more than welcome to request one too. No idea how we'd use it yet.

Hope this helps! Stay tuned for further details in due course :)

~gatheringfiki

[humbledragon669]

S2E3 - I Know Where I'm Going Write Up P1 - up to the credits (present day)

Tiny bit of trivia about me that I’m sure nobody really cares about - as of Christmas just gone, I own my own version of Jim’s mug. It’s definitely one of the top three presents I got (one of the others is a GO themed long-sleeved t-shirt), and I absolutely have been using it to drink hot chocolate out of. I LOVE it.

Anyway, it’s Easter egg time! Yeah, that’s right, this one appears right at the beginning of the episode. And I suspect that many people will already have noted this one, but as I’ve said before, you never know. So here it is:

That’s the music instrument shop across the road from the bookshop, called “Arnolds”, presumably for the soundtrack composer for Omens - David Arnold. Obvious though it may be, it’s a bit “blink-and-you’d-miss-it”, so I felt like it was worth drawing attention to, just to reiterate the level of care and attention on display in this show that we all know and love. And whilst I have my attention-to-detail hat on, I have a brief point of speculation to make about Jim’s location in this opening shot. Given his view across the street, and the limited view we get into the room behind him (I’m thinking mostly about the lamp you can just about make out over his shoulder), this would appear to be Jim’s bedroom. In front of him is a tray with his mug and a container of hot chocolate on it. There’s even a trail of hot chocolate powder in between the mug and the container, as if someone has been a bit careless when spooning the cocoa from the pot into the cup (no judgement, I do this ALL the time). Before breaking away from this shot, we see Jim pouring boiling water into the mug from an electric kettle. All perfectly understandable actions for a set-up to show a man looking out over his neighbourhood, right? So my speculation is this, and I am jumping ahead a little. Why is it necessary for Crowley to leave the room when offering to make Jim a cup of hot chocolate in a later episode? It would seem that all the equipment required is right there in Jim’s bedroom. Sounds like another instance of scriptual convenience to me, albeit a small one. Anyway, enough pedantry, let’s move on.

It's taken me ages, but I’ve worked out what the music is playing in the background of the coffee shop. Unsurprisingly it’s another Queen tune - “Radio Ga Ga” this time. Given the lyrics, which speak of a fond farewell to a medium that no longer has relevance given more modern offerings, I wonder if this might be a reference to the state of Nina’s relationship with Lindsey at this point? Aside from that potential insight, I can’t really say there’s an awful lot about this scene that I like. Obviously Nina is still being her unlikeable self (checking her phone whilst she’s in the middle of serving someone? Not being funny, I would genuinely walk out of a coffee shop if a barista did that to me), but now we’re “introduced” to another fairly abrupt character, but this time we don’t even learn her name. Poor Mrs. Sandwich, she turns out to be an incredible likeable addition to the show, but in my opinion, she really doesn’t get to shine here. And what’s the point of this scene really? So that we can get a long shot of Muriel’s arrival and have it hammered home that their appearance is visible and noted as odd by the people in Whickber Street? If that’s the case, honestly this whole scene feels pretty unnecessary, but perhaps that’s just me.

Now. I did a little bit of digging about the way that Muriel introduces themself, because this stereotype is familiar to me, but I have no idea where it comes from. There’s a lovely bit of hive mind research been done here, which suggests the origin of the phrasing is over 100 years old but personally my money is on this being a nod to Monty Python (as detailed in that forum post), particularly as it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen a Python reference in the show (NIAT RUC, I’m looking at you). I think there might be another little homage here though, and this one if a bit more niche. It’s to do with the whistling in the soundtrack, heard here:

It rang bells with me, and unlike the backing music in the coffee shop earlier, this one didn’t actually take me very long. Back in the mid-90s, there was a sit-com show here in the UK called The Thin Blue Line, which followed the personal and professional lives of a group of policemen from an English town. The policemen in question were of both the uniformed (commonly called “bobbies”, or “on-the-beat”) and non-uniformed variety. Muriel is most definitely dressed as one of the former. Here’s the theme tune from that show:

Not too dissimilar, are they? I couldn’t find any evidence for whether the theme we hear in the Omens soundtrack is an homage to the theme from The Thin Blue Line or not. Perhaps it wasn’t even a conscious thing, though I highly doubt that. I would so love it if this was an intentional reference to that little copper comedy from the 90s - it ran for only 2 seasons, but I remember watching every episode when it aired and finding the whole thing really funny. I don’t know how well it will have aged, but I do remember that (bearing in mind this was the mid-90s) its casting was progressive - an Asian woman and a gay man both playing lead roles and part of the police force, with the characters most commonly ridiculed for being wrong and unreasonable being the middle-aged white men.  It was perhaps a little slapstick in places, and intrinsically “British” in its humour, but I still feel like it was a delightful addition to our televisions, so if this is a tip-of-the-hat to the show, I feel it’s well placed. Right, time to move on, this is supposed to be a write up of a Good Omens episode, not an appreciation post for long-dead British TV shows.

It's pretty difficult to say with any certainty, but I don’t think Aziraphale recognises Muriel when they arrive. Granted, he wouldn’t have seen or spoken to them in quite some time (since his defection from Heaven at the latest, though the only time we see them interacting is in the Uz flashbacks), but given the conversation he had with them during the Job debacle, you’d think he might at least realise he’d seen their face before? Particularly given the memories he has so recently lived through. Don’t get me wrong, he clearly knows they’ve come from Heaven, but that outfit pretty much gives the game away on that front, and he has been told to expect a visit from an auditor. Doesn’t take him long to decide to play along either.

I really love this moment - I’m pretty sure that this is where he decides not only to pretend he doesn’t know Muriel is there to check up on his miracle claims, but to be gentle about his interactions with them. He's recognised the joy that Muriel is getting out of the situation and decided that the nicest thing to do will be to let them enjoy the ride, which can only happen if the pretence is maintained. Subtle as it is, I actually think this is one of Aziraphale’s clearest indications of his Good nature - faced with a similar situation, many people (Crowley included, as we’ll come to see shortly) would openly mock Muriel for their apparent lack of intelligence, and given their visit’s true purpose I don’t think anybody would have been too displeased if Aziraphale had just closed the door in their face. It’s such a selfless act of kindness, and in not shunning Muriel, we are treated to some truly beautiful comic moments throughout the rest of the season.

Oh hold up. Was I just waxing lyrical about how kind and considerate this angel is? I take it all back. I almost feel like Crowley has suggested this to him, it’s that mischievous. And not the first time he’s done it either, except the last time he tricked another angel into sullying their body with a liquid intended for human consumption, that being was suffering from complete amnesia. Vulnerable you might say. Which is actually not that dissimilar to Muriel, who is clearly in a very precarious position and not doing a particularly good job of hiding their discomfort and mild panic in trying to maintain their cover whilst staying in character. He even manages to sound as if he’s trying to coach them on proper human responses with no hidden subtext. At least he has enough of a conscience to show pity for his visitor and the position he’s put them in:

Bit of a tangent here - why doesn’t Aziraphale recognise that the fact that Crowley is bringing his plants into the bookshop gives the game away that he’s living in his car? Don’t get me wrong, I am in no doubt that the reason Crowley removes them from the car at all is because he wouldn’t trust anybody else to look after them, not even his angel, so I do understand the reason for them to be removed. As far as I can see, there are four possibilities for this:

Aziraphale doesn’t make the connection between Crowley having his plants in the car and what means for his living situation.

Aziraphale does make the connection but, perhaps due to the current awkward situation panning out in the bookshop and his plans for his Edinburgh road trip, doesn’t mention anything about.

Aziraphale already knows that Crowley is sleeping in his car.

Crowley isn’t really living in his car at all, and the plants are simply kept there to maintain the cover story.

I think Aziraphale is smarter than the first option, even with his innate inability to pick up on Crowley’s cues. And I can’t really comprehend that Aziraphale would have taken the revelation that Crowley is living and sleeping in his car without any sort of protestations (let’s not forget that Crowley openly offered Aziraphale a place to stay when they thought the bookshop was gone, and that was before their respective defections). The third possibility has legs, but it doesn’t sit right with me - I just can’t see that Aziraphale would tolerate this living situation for Crowley, even if it meant buying or renting a place somewhere else for the demon to call home. The last of those possibilities is where my head canon lives, as I think I’ve mentioned in previous write ups. We’ll see Aziraphale “reacting” to the confirmation that Crowley has been sleeping in his car in a future episode, so I’ll hammer this point home one last time when we get there. And regardless whether you agree with my ideas or not, you can’t deny that Crowley’s confident swagger when he bursts into the shop really goes to show just how comfortable he is in this environment, and that he has no qualms about asserting himself there. Almost like it was home in fact…

See? No problems asserting himself at all. The subtext here is pretty glaring - his joining Aziraphale gives a clear message to Muriel about the fact that they’re a team (a group. A group of the two of them), and despite the fact that there surely must be A LOT of body contact going on here, Aziraphale’s expression doesn’t change at all. Not a muscle moved. It feels to me as if this is the sort of close proximity contact that the two of them are very accustomed to when not in the presence of other beings that might see it for what it is. And not only is Crowley comfortable with his position, he’s really enjoying himself:

I’ve mentioned it before, about us not getting to see much of Crowley’s mischievous side in the present day in this season, but this is it on full display. I’m not sure why I love more about this interaction with Muriel - Crowley’s cheeky grin or the fact that Aziraphale does absolutely nothing to reprimand him over his behaviour. That angel is having just as much fun partaking in the mischief as Crowley is, and I find it really adorable to see him indulging his playful side, even if it does eventually result in another one of those pitiful compassionate looks he throws Muriel’s way.

There’s a potentially interesting use of pronouns in the conversation that follows in the back room:

Interesting, see? Crowley refers to Heaven as “your lot”, despite the fact that Aziraphale has openly admitted that he no longer works for them. Not only that, the angel takes the baton up with his reply, grouping himself together with his former workplace using the “we” pronoun. Perhaps it’s just the habit of the previous multiple millennia, it just strikes me as odd, not least because Crowley’s questioning of them being “in charge” would appear to imply that he feels Heaven has the upper hand in the Heaven/Hell power play. Semantics aside, there’s something about this conversation that I really love. They’re both actually listening to one another, the tone is congenial, and they’re engaging in teamwork, and it all feels so natural. There’s no emotional stress going on, no arguing, just two people working together to try and achieve a common goal. I think this is probably the closest we come to seeing them in their normal relationship state, and it feels so relatable.

Well, it looks like Crowley’s plan has changed somewhat following his streetside conversation with Nina - now it needs a “fabulous kiss” for it to be successful. Considering his previous plan was so obviously a retelling of the love story between he and Aziraphale, I find the addition of a kiss at this point to be a notable one. Yes, my head cannon has our hero couple very firmly established in a relationship in the present day, but no, I do not believe that they kissed during either of the two “shelter-under-an-awning” moments that they have shared. Not to mention that I feel like there’s an element of heartbreaking foreshadowing going on with his throwaway comment (though to be fair, I don’t think there’s anything “fabulous” about that kiss in the Final 15, but I’m getting ahead of myself). What is it that makes him add the need for a kiss for his plan to be successful? Consulting my head cannon again, I suspect there might be some further revelations to be had about when he and Aziraphale shared their first kiss, and that this might tie into his updated plan somehow, but whether we’ll get to see that in the space of our final 90 minutes, I don’t know.

Oh I love this. Like, so much. It’s such a MARRIED COUPLE mini spat. It’s so obvious that Aziraphale takes the role of the stereotypical wife - there’s no negotiation, just the thinly veiled threat of extreme rage if his wishes aren’t complied with. And just as obvious is Crowley’s adoption of the stereotypical husband role - downtrodden, with the resigned knowledge that he’s been beaten and can’t worm his way out of a situation that whilst he knows he doesn’t like, he has no logical argument to counter. It’s so lovely. Beautifully delivered and excellently timed. The more I look into the episodes for this season, the more I seem to find that feels stilted and somewhat unnecessary, but moments like these are most definitely not one of them, and in fact I think they’re probably largely responsible for our intense love of the relationship between our hero couple. There’s another one coming up, but I’ll get there in a moment.

Despite being at the tail end of a spat, and that Aziraphale is clearly both disappointed and distracted not to have put his hands on the car keys, we’re about to see a lovely example of Aziraphale and Crowley showing a sixth sense for knowing their roles in the relationship. Regardless of the fact that there is no verbal communication between them following Muriel’s entrance to the room, Crowley knows instinctively that this is his cue to step up and perform a mini rescue, and Aziraphale knows to simply let him do his own thing. He doesn’t say a word once Muriel bursts in on them, just allows Crowley to do all the talking, with the instinctive knowledge that they will be in a better position soon. Which of course leads to this OUTRAGEOUS look from Aziraphale:

There it is, another one of those moments I was just discussing! I remember the first time I caught this look from Aziraphale, it was like a bomb had gone off in my head. It’s… well it’s pure filth, isn’t it? We all thought the look Crowley drew in the Bastille was the best example of a mental undressing we would ever see, but this just blows it out of the water. And why wouldn’t Aziraphale be feeling particularly enamoured of his demon at this point in time? There he is, doing his little rescue and invoking feelings of his knowledge of love (“love”?) at the same time. It’s pretty clear to see how much Crowley’s little speech has affected him, because he barely manages to catch the keys that the demon throws to him mere seconds later. He doesn’t even argue when Crowley continues to assert that the Bentley belongs to him alone, and even manages a wink, which I can only assume is supposed to be reassuring that he’s on the same wavelength about the current situation, and that he appreciates the olive branch just offered to him by way of Crowley’s accepting of the mission he’s been given.

Apart from a quick note to say that Aziraphale’s driving looks worse than Crowley’s, and that Crowley’s reaction to seeing his beloved car driving away speaks (to me, anyway) more of boredom than it does of worry or possessiveness, I think that’s all there is for this instalment, seeing as we’ve arrived quite neatly at the opening credits. As always, questions, comments, discussion: always welcome. See you for the next one!