#she was the first real person i ever saw on screen that was also a redhead so i was so happy as a kid

[mythic-rose]

❝ — "Velma, here's the only thing you ever need to know about boys: they are stupid"

rose's 100 favorite female characters — 2/100: Daphne Blake

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[9:16 am]

(cw: course language)

Dating Jeno was like a dream. You knew it was early, 2 months to be exact, but you were fairly certain he was the best man ever. He was sweet, thoughtful, he listened, he was funny, and he was handsome. He took you on dates that you could tell he put effort into, he gave you gifts just because he was “thinking about you,” and got you flowers weekly. What wasn’t to like about him?

You had just seen him the night before, he had invited you over to his so he could cook for you. His excuse was that he’d been wanting to try out a recipe, but it was too much for one person. He’d listened to you talk all night about your annoying boss and how she went on and on about anything under the sun. She made it impossible to make or take calls with her roaming the floor and talking. She tried too hard to be friends with her employees.

He had had glimpses of her before when he came by to pick you up for lunch or picked you up from work. She was always the first one to the door, twirling her hair and batting her lashes. She tried flirting and didn’t even try to hide her frown when he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek.

“And I saw that little boy toy of yours yesterday! He was out and about during lunch yesterday and we had lunch together! You’re not mad right? According to what I’ve heard he’s not your boyfriend yet…” you heard her annoying voice, but she wasn’t talking to you, right?

You turned in your desk chair, “are you talking to me?”

“Yes! Jeno, your little boy toy! He’s a real cutie, a real gentleman. I can totally see what’s so attractive about him. We sat and talked together and got carried away. I was almost late,” she laughs.

You give her a fake laugh, claiming you have work to get back to while turning to face the computer screen. Instead of working, you mull over her words. On one hand yes, you and Jeno weren’t official or exclusive in the fact that you hadn’t discussed it, but you had assumed you were. There was also the fact that when you asked him about his lunch he had been very short and moved on as if it were nothing.

Had there been signs that you missed before? Were there moments that they shared when you weren’t around? Were there hidden moments? God, this was putting you in a downward spiral.

She was still stood near you when you heard an unfamiliar male voice. “Uhhhh, flowers from Jeno?” He asked.

As you moved to identify yourself, your boss squealed, reaching for the flowers. She pulled the card from bouquet and began to read out loud, “I had the greatest time seeing you yesterday. I can’t wait to spend more time with you. Love, Jeno. He’s so sweet! So sorry you had to find out this way, but I need to go put these in some light. Get back to work.”

The rest of your day was awful. Maybe he had sent those to her. Maybe he liked her more than you. Maybe he was two-timing you.

From there your anger grew and grew. Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard. His texts made your anger boil and bubble inside you to the point where once you saw him standing alone in the lobby of your workplace you walked right past him.

“Hey! Wait- hey, where are you going?” You heard Jeno’s voice as he followed after you.

You turned, your voice cold while your emotions were heated, “if you liked my boss you could have just said that instead of stringing me along. I know we never talked about being closed off, but at the very least I deserved to know you were seeing another person inside my office!”

He held his hands up, as if in surrender, “I don’t- I’m not seeing anyone but you. Can we talk about this?”

You groaned, running a had over your hair in frustration. You exhaled, calming your feelings, “my boss came in this morning and told me that you guys had lunch together. That you were such a gentleman and she totally gets what I see in you and that you spent the whole lunch talking and getting to know each other.” Your voice breaks as you keep explaining, “and then flowers were delivered that said you enjoyed your time with her yesterday. It’s just- I wish you had just told me.” You loon away from him as your eyes fill with tears and you desperately try to blink them back.

Jeno gives you your time to breathe and cool off before he speaks. “Babe, I didn’t get lunch with your boss. I happened to be at the same spot for lunch to pick up my order and while I was leaving she walked in. We did that whole awkward stepping the same way over and over again, and I greeted her just to be polite. I asked her how she was, but I didn’t have lunch with her. I don’t like her, she makes me feel weird and gross when she talks to me and I think she’s the same age as my mom, that or she has really bad work done.” You laugh at that and he smiles explaining even more, “the flowers were for you, babe. I have the receipt, it has your name on it as the recipient. They were supposed to be your weekly bouquet and that’s why the note says what it said. I don’t want to spend time getting to know anyone but you.”

“God, I hate that bitch. I’m sorry I assumed,” you exhale deeply, feeling an immense weight off your shoulders.

He pulls you into his chest for a hug, rubbing a hand up and down your back, “it was an unfortunate mess of coincidences mixed with delusion from your crazy ass boss. It’s the last time I’ll use a delivery service too, all your flowers are coming right from me.”

“You still want me after I made that horrible assumption?” You ask with a playful tone, but the nerves in your stomach have yet to calm down.

Jeno smirks, tsking nonchalantly, “if anything, I want you more. Something about you getting jealous, a little possessive, that’s hot.”

You shove him lightly, leaving him behind as you begin walking home again. You can hear him laughing and his steps as he runs to catch up to you. His arm wraps around your shoulders and he presses a kiss to your temple while you both dodge the other people trying to get home. He takes your bag off your shoulder and smiles at you warmly, “I didn’t think we really had to talk about it, but in all seriousness I do like you a lot. I don’t want to see anyone but you.”

“I like you a lot too,” you smile back, “so what? You’re like my boyfriend now?”

“Nothing would make me happier, and you should report your boss to HR. She’s a total bitch.”

[sweettea-and-honeybutter]

Take You There III

Song that inspired this chapter...

A/N: Soooo sorry for the wait, life was lifting y'all. Thank you for your patience and for enjoying this story enough to seek more 💕 thanks for coming back to read!! Also please lemme know how you're liking the soundtrack if you're listening to the music while you read 👀 an excerpt from chapter 4 will be at the end of this one!!!

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Reign Adisa (black female OC)

Warning: we gettin a lil spicy, but just a little! Rated-minors fuck off.

Word count: 3,270

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Chapter 3

The military was where Terry first felt the sting of disillusionment. He had entered service with a youthful sense of purpose, convinced he was part of something honorable, and prideful that his martial arts expertise qualified him to guide his peers. But stories from fellow soldiers—men and women who came back changed, scarred by the reality of their missions—shattered that idealism, and showed him how spared he was to be kept stateside. The final blow came with his cousin’s death, a casualty not of war but of a system that prioritized power over people. His cousin’s laugh, once bright and infectious, had been silenced by negligence that no amount of money or apologies could ever mend.

Terry carried that betrayal deep in his chest. It made him wary, made him question the intentions behind every offer, every outstretched hand, every good thing. Trusting had cost him too much, and he vowed never to let that happen again. This skepticism seeped into every part of his life; even joy felt like a prelude to loss.

When he met Reign, with her warm eyes and calm energy, it was as if he’d been thrown a lifeline. But she felt too good, too gentle, like something that might be taken from him the moment he allowed himself to believe in it.

The trauma of his cousin's death made it hard for him to believe that good things could be real and lasting. The fear of another betrayal, of life snatching something precious away again, gnawed at him. With Reign, this fear was magnified—she was the first person since that living hell who’d melted his defense with her warm brown eyes, and made him want to trust in something beyond the battle-ready vigilance he had carried for so long.

The thought of Reign being "too good to be true" wasn’t just about her; it was about him grappling with whether he could accept something untainted after years of disillusionment. The fear of losing her, or of her seeing the fractured parts of him and walking away, mirrored the dread he felt watching life slip away from those he’d once admired and loved. But in her, he found something that challenged his narrative: maybe this time, he was allowed to hold on without the ground being pulled out from under him. 

His therapist was impressed. Terry was making immense progress towards healing from ptsd, and he was pleasantly surprised at Reign’s influence over his client, how she managed to infect him with hope and optimism so quickly. But still, Terry’s hesitancy was heartbreaking, and Mr. Shaw hoped he’d get through to Terry before the next time he saw Reign.

“Let me ask you this: what would it mean if you allowed yourself to trust this? To believe that Reign’s presence isn’t a trick or something that’s about to be taken away?”

Terry’s brow furrowed for a moment, and Mr. Shaw could see a flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes even through the computer screen. “It’d mean… it’d mean believing that I deserve to be happy. That maybe I’ve paid my dues, that life will take it easy on me for a second. But that’s a scary thought to have Doc.”

Mr. Shaw leaned closer to his webcam with a soft, encouraging smile. “Healing isn’t linear, Terry. It’s okay to feel scared. But what I’m hearing is that you want this. And maybe, that’s a start. Maybe, it’s worth giving yourself permission to try,” He paused to let Terry ponder over that, and then continued “maybe it's okay to do things scared.”

~~~~~~~

Reign didn’t want Terry to feel like she saw right through him, but she did, because she’d been there before. When she was learning to trust again, learning to live again, she needed patience and grace. She’d needed compassionate lovers that didn’t rush her as she found herself again, and rediscovered her footing in this ever changing world. It was really a hit or miss with her romantic life, but she took the time she needed and was all the better for it.

She found it endearing, and intoxicating, that Terry wanted to try with her, and was so genuine about his intentions. She respected that he wanted her to take the lead, it forced her to be honest with herself, about how deeply she wanted to experience all of him. They took turns texting each other since she last saw him, and she’d even managed to get a few voice notes from him that she saved to her phone to listen to repeatedly like some crushing school girl. 

After 2 days of being sweet with each other and skirting around it, she sent him the coordinates to meet her at, her fingers lingering a bit on her screen before pressing send. There was something thrilling about bringing him to a place she knew he’d enjoy, a space where they could both be in their element. She could already imagine him, standing out against the backdrop of the trees, his easy grin and the way his skin would gleam in the light… She sighed, shaking her head. Her thoughts had really been getting away from her lately.

She was starting to think he was a solo Sunday kind of guy when he texted her back saying he could meet her there in 2 hours. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and smiled, that’s just enough time to get all their goodies and meet him at the nature preserve. 

~~~~~~~

As Terry pulled into the nature park’s parking lot, he turned off the engine and sat in silence for a moment, taking in the sights around him. Towering trees lined the trailheads, their leaves rustling in the warm Texas breeze. He rolled down his window, letting the fresh, earthy smell settle into his senses, grounding him in a way he hadn’t felt in ages. There was something indescribably soothing about this place—the kind of quiet that spoke to his soul without saying a word. It was the type of peace he’d been craving, like a balm on the unspoken worries that still tugged at his spirit.

And Reign had brought him here. She’d chosen a place that would calm his mind and allow him to just… be. The thought stirred something deep inside him, filling him with a sense of gratitude he couldn’t quite put into words. She was learning him so quickly, understanding his needs before he even voiced them, and that alone humbled him. He hadn’t met anyone who listened to him like this, not with her level of intention, of depth. It made him feel more seen than he had in years. He wanted to dedicate his time to learning her just as intuitively, and he would if she let him.

He checked his phone and saw her text again, the cheekiness of it making him chuckle.

"And don’t use the gps to find me, soldier. There are maps outside the welcome center 🫡."

This girl. Every time he thought he had her figured out, she threw him another curveball. And he was learning not to have any expectations for her—she’d surprise him every time, and he loved it. It was refreshing, the thrill of never knowing what she’d do next.

He grabbed one of the trail maps from the welcome center and studied it with growing excitement, tracing the coordinates she’d sent him to a meadow on the far side of the park. Of course, she’d be out in the open, somewhere wild and free. It suited her. And the idea of tracking her down, following the hints she left like breadcrumbs, sparked something almost primal in him. She’d soon learn he loved a good hunt, especially one that led to her.

With a grin, he folded the map and tucked it securely into his heavy backpack before setting off, his steps settling into an easy jog. The landscape opened up around him, sunlight filtering through the trees, and he could already feel that magnetic pull in his chest, that need to be near her. It was undeniable, the way she drew him in, like some force of nature itself. His heartbeat picked up as he neared her coordinates, anticipation mixing with the calmness that only she seemed to bring.

Today, he was more than ready to follow wherever she led him.

~~~~~~~

Terry found her.

She looked like she belonged here, part of the landscape itself—reclining on a blanket she’d spread out for them, nestled between a wall of wildflowers on one side and tall trees on the other. The sun kissed her face whenever a breeze stirred the branches above. Terry held his breath, instinctively raising his phone to capture her just like this: eyes closed, relaxed, her white-painted toes wiggling contentedly in the grass. She was the perfect depiction of serenity. The breeze carried her jasmine scent, mingling with the wildflowers, and he felt his mouth water as a hunger grew within him.

As he edged closer, he took in the way her dark cropped shirt and matching biker shorts hugged her curves. His gaze lingered on her exposed, soft thighs, and he bit his lip, longing to leave a trail of kisses along that smooth skin. He was enraptured, his body pulling him forward of its own accord. Just then, his foot came down on a stick, and it cracked beneath him, snapping her out of her trance.

She sat up quickly, squinting, clearly struggling to make sense of the fuzzy figure approaching. Terry smiled, crouching down beside her, picking up her glasses from the blanket. 

“You really need to be more aware of your surroundings, pretty girl,” he murmured, slipping the frames gently onto the bridge of her nose. His fingers found her braids, smoothing them away from her face as he held her chin, tilting her head up to look at him.

Reign’s lips curved into a soft, easy smile, her hands finding their way to his sturdy thighs, grounding herself in the warmth of him.  A spark danced in her eyes, the playful challenge he’d come to love. She leaned up towards him, her breath a soft whisper against his lips. “You found me,” she teased, voice low, “good boy.”

He blinked, stunned for a moment and dick hardening in response, but then her quick, sticky-sweet kiss left him reeling, wanting more, just as she fell back against the blanket with a mischievous laugh. Terry exhaled, staring down at her, his own laughter echoing hers as he wondered what he’d done to have this beautiful, maddening woman in his life. Shaking his head, he shrugged off his backpack, settling in beside her, his heart feeling lighter the more time he spent with her.

“You didn’t make it hard for me to find you, Reign.” His deep voice wrapped around her name, and she felt a delicious shiver run through her. Trying to disguise her reaction, she rolled onto her side to face him. He’d mimicked her earlier pose, lying on his back with his hands behind his head, biceps flexing, looking effortlessly relaxed. She watched his broad chest rise and fall with each slow inhale, his long lashes fluttering as he watched the drifting clouds. He looked exactly like he did in her secret fantasies.

“I’ll make it harder next time, then,” she teased, before spotting the picnic basket she’d brought. “Oh!” She grinned. “I almost forgot—I brought goodies for us!” Terry’s gaze didn’t waver as he watched her shift positions.

In a bold move, Reign swung herself over him, straddling his hips, settling her weight comfortably against him. Terry tensed beneath her, his eyes darkening. She tried to appear casual, squeezing his hips with her thighs as she busied herself pulling out sandwiches and snacks, chattering about where she got them and how much she hoped he’d like them.

Terry didn’t hear a single word really. She felt so warm on top of him, just like she had on her balcony. And she looked so pretty from this angle, glasses cutely sliding down her nose, braids messily falling in her face. He could imagine how sexily she’d bounce on him, her melodic voice moaning his name, making such a mess with her wet-

“Terry?” her voice and the feeling of her hand softly rubbing up and down his chest snapped his attention back to her. His breathing was stuttered, his eyes cloudy with lust, his hardness pressing right into her clothed center. She tilted her head to the side, almost innocently, and raised a brow with a sweet smile.

“You hungry?” Reign could tell by the dark hue of his eyes that she was playing a dangerous game. Terry moved his hands from behind his head to firmly grip her thighs and hold her steady. She gasped as he rolled his hips up into her, pressing his bulge exactly where she needed him the most. 

“Yes.” His voice was rough, almost a growl, and the single word was packed with layers of meaning. Reign felt her body flush and her shyness return to the surface. She quickly climbed off of him with a nervous laugh and Terry took a deep, calming breath. 

“Great!” Reign’s voice came out squeaky in that way it always does when he left her flustered, “Dig in!”.

~~~~~~~

They ate slowly, savoring both the food and each other’s company. Terry found himself talking more than he had with her before, letting himself be pulled along by Reign’s quiet encouragement, her smile and laughter drawing him further out of his shell. He shared stories from his time in the military, but carefully chose the lighter ones, filled with camaraderie and the kind of loyalty he hadn’t realized he missed so much.

At one point, he caught himself pausing, unsure if he should say what was on his mind. But something about the way Reign looked at him—completely open, with no judgment, just a quiet patience—made him feel like he could keep going.

“You’ve got this aura about you, you know?” His deep voice came out almost shyly, and his piercing eyes took in all of her features. Her laughter bubbled up, soft and genuine, and it settled something deep within him.

“Oh?” she asked, leaning in from where she sat next to him, gently bumping his shoulder encouraging him to continue, her eyes alight with curiosity. “What kind of aura do I have?”

He paused, weighing his words. “It’s like… you quiet all the noise in my head.” He was taken aback by his own honesty. “I haven’t felt that way with anyone else.”

She gave him a smile, taking in every word without interrupting. And the more he spoke, the more he realized how much he wanted her to know—how desperately he wanted her to understand this unspoken connection that he hadn’t been able to put into words.

They fell into easy conversation after that, intimately feeding each other food here and there, and he realized he wanted to know her in ways he hadn’t been interested in knowing anyone else ever—her past, her dreams, the quietest parts of her mind. And he shared just as much with her as she did with him, her questions gentle but curious, drawing out memories and stories he hadn’t thought of in years. He watched her as he spoke, the way her expressions shifted with each story, each reaction giving him a little more permission to let his guard down.

A thought crossed his mind as he looked at her, laughing softly at something he’d just said. He wondered if she realized how rare it was for him to feel this… safe. To feel so seen without the need to shield himself. She was only just beginning to know him, but there was an honesty and ease between them that he was finding harder and harder to resist. 

They found themselves lying side by side again as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting everything in a golden shine. This time, Terry was propped up on his side, taking in the way her skin seemed to glow in the fading light. Reign stretched out languidly, like a contented cat, her arms reaching above her head, shifting her body just a little closer to his warmth without even realizing it. His eyes traveled over the curve of her torso, drawn to the delicate lotus etched on her ribs. With a gentleness that disguised his hunger for her, he lifted his hand and brushed his knuckles softly over the inked petals, tracing them as if they held a secret meant only for him. 

“I have a confession to make, Reign,” Terry’s voice was a low rumble as his knuckles brushed over her belly button. She squirmed at the tickling sensation, cracking one eye open to give him a suspicious, playful look.

“Well, go on then, Terry. I’m about to explode from the suspense of it all,” she teased, her voice dripping with mock impatience. He clenched his jaw to keep from laughing at her bratty tone—she was such a smart ass.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he flipped his hand, letting his palm settle warmly against her lower tummy, just above the high waistband of her shorts. Reign’s breath caught, and she felt her pulse quicken as both her eyes opened, now fully alert and fixed on him.

“I haven’t been a good boy, actually,” he murmured, his gaze darkening, “not with the thoughts I’ve been having about you.”

The quiet intensity in his voice washed over her, and the heat of his hand was almost burning. Reign’s body responded instantly, a flush of desire spreading like wildfire, making her shift beneath him. “Yeah?” Her voice came out a little breathless, but she didn’t try to hide it, letting the weight of her want show.

Terry nodded with solemn honesty, his gaze unwavering, serious in a way that made her heart thud harder. When it came to her, he wouldn’t lie—not about anything. Reign hummed thoughtfully, her gaze lingering over him as she brought one hand to wrap her fingers around his wrist, guiding his hand down with unhurried purpose. She stopped just as his fingertips brushed under the band of her shorts and panties.

“Feel me.” Reign’s tone left no room for argument, not that Terry even wanted to protest in the first place. His long fingers eased their way lower, feeling the smooth skin and small tuft of soft hair, his watchful eyes locked on hers the entire time. He let out a low groan when he felt how hot and slick she was, his fingers easily slipping around her hard nub causing her lashes to flutter before she focused her gaze on him again.

“I’ve been having those same thoughts Terry.” Her sweet voice was deeper now, and Terry felt himself pulse under the layers of constricting clothes he had on. Reign’s breath hitched as she felt his thick fingertips make another circle around her clit, drawing more wetness from her. 

“We should stop thinking so hard then, pretty girl.” Terry gently pulled his hand out from the tempting oasis between her thighs, and she watched awestruck as he sucked her sweetness clean off of his fingers, a pleasure filled rumble leaving his chest. “We can finish this at my place-” Reign was already sitting up before he could finish, haphazardly throwing shit in the picnic basket causing Terry to let out a hearty laugh at her eagerness.

***

An excerpt from chapter 4...

“I’ve been wanting to be here…” his voice husky from his visceral need for her, and Reign's moans increased in volume at how she could somehow feel his voice in the depth of her being, right where his tip repeatedly kissed her cervix. 

“…in this moment with you, for too long Reign.” He could hardly speak, the feeling of her warm pussy squeezing around him in response to his words, it was too much. Reign moaned louder, eyes shut tightly at his increased thrusting, getting lost in all he was giving her. 

“Don’t hold back shit from me, baby girl. Give me everything.” 

~~~~~~~

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[iiovserii]

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

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

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

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

Link to the Ao3 ver instead!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He didn’t need you, he knew that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ve never seen her so happy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wouldn’t mind that in the slightest.

eng translation:

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

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

3. “Gatita” — Kitten

[norwegiankafka]

Hiii can I request Owen ( windbreaker) childhood friends to lovers fic please??? 🥹

Little Things [Owen Knight, Fluff]

Synopsis: What if he actually fell for the person that has been there, all along?

a/n 𖦹 finally! I never write for the childhood best friend to lovers prompt, but I'm trying my best. I hope you liked it. Not beta-ed (too long lmfao). Hope anon like it! :3

tw & cw ✰ cursing.

It's so Owen, calling late at night. Like he didn't give a fuck whether you are sleeping or not. A habit of his, exists since you and him were a teenager.

"What the fuck do you want in the fucking middle of the night, Mr. Knight?" You snapped right when you hit the accept button.

"Whoa, chill. I just arrived today and the first thing you did is to curse me? Poor me,"

"Ugh, fine. Tell me what happened," You sigh exasperatedly. Just, please.

"Shelly and Jay kissed in front of me. Like- I don't even know what to say. I'm shocked. Did Shelly really love that guy? I don't know what she sees in him, for real."

"And I don't know what's worth in you for Shelly to see. Oi, get over her. Why bother winning her heart back when you already know who has her heart? You just love hurting your own feelings, just say it at this point, you know that?"

"Your words burns like hell. I always tell you I have a promise with Shelly when I was a kid-"

"This promise, that promise," You cut his words. "That thing happened when you were a kid. It's nothing serious. Get over it. I'm tired of you venting about a girl who doesn't even think about you. I had class in 6. You're free to vent after that."

Just like that, you hang up your call.

—

He, started to wait for your reply. Normally, he checks his phone ever so slightly when he's bored or Shelly isn't around to bug. He often forgots where he puts the phone. Without him realizing things, he checks his phone more often. Waits for that messaging app icon to appear on his phone. Waiting for your name to pop up on his screen. He pulls his phone under his desk when he's in class, turned them on to check whether you replied or not. Will 100% turn them off again when there is no reply or chat from you, or will 100% reply at the same second you sent the text. An Exhibit.

A lot of things reminds him of you. In a lot of occasion, but he always tries to brush it off. He saw an ice cream that you said you wanna try, but never had the time. He tried the ice cream, just to taste whether it tastes good or not. So he can tell you later. (Or maybe ask you for an ice cream date, but best friends didn't do that.) Hey. At least if back in England they didn't have this exact flavor so you (and him) can try it out too, he had a reason to text you later. Two exhibits.

A lot of things reminds him of you. When both of you were kids, you eat ice creams a lot. Cold and flu were no stranger to you and Owen. But among all ice creams that you ever tried, Chocomint. It's a weird flavor, however. Tastes cool and minty but also sweet at the same time. He genuinely thought you're weird and your tastebuds is broken. Who the hell thought this was a delicious flavor? An atrocity made of different shit put together. All that thought end once he walked around stores in Seoul.

There's varieties of chocomint flavored food. Hey, it's not gonna hurt to try few, right? (Cue: He tried all of them. He didn't like it. He had the reason to annoy you by saying chocomint tastes like shit.)

He hates reading. It bore him a whole lot when teachers tell students to read. He hates reading in english, so do Korean. (He barely understands everything). One day, he walked past a bookstore, with a book on sale that day. He feels oddly familiar with the cover, even if he hates reading. He remembers that it's the book that you literally worshipped and said that it's so good he should consider read it too. Without any second thoughts, the book is on the counter and ready to be taken home. He finished the book in a week (pretty fast for a person who hates reading, lol), and silently weeping for the main character. He admits, it's a good book. Three exhibits.

He bikes a lot by himself. It's usually in the afternoon, around the time sun is starting to set. He likes that time a lot, the wind is warm but not too hot, and still feels breezy. After going around for an hour, he sat by the nearest river. Doing nothing, just watching until the sun fully set and it's time for him to go home.

When Owen and you were a kid, you liked to play outside. Doing lots of things. Biking, hide and seek, things. When the sun starts to set, you will sit wherever, as long as you can watch the sunset. A familiar feeling and habit, with him. Four exhibits.

Without him realizing, he's falling in love. All of the things you did together. All the time you were together as kids. All the time you grew up together, going to the same school. He fell in love with the you that has been there all along while he chase for Shelly.

—

Knock knock.

Someone knocked on the door. What kinds of people come so fuckin late at night? You opened the door.

Owen is standing. His eyes bore to the hallways, as if he avoids your gaze. He clears his throat awkwardly.

"Promise you're not gonna be awkward with me?" is the first sentence out of his mouth. He avoids your gaze, looking somewhere else. He took a deep breath before starting the next sentence. "It's you. It has always been you," He stares deeply into your eyes. He felt nervous, but he, for sure, is sure about his feelings. Right now. Is he scared? Maybe yes. He is. But he never felt so certain in life.

"Huh?" You hum confusedly. Who the hell isn't when your best friend come to your doorway and saying weird shit at late nights.

"I.. like you. Like, a lot,"

Your gaze softens after you're realizing he's trying to confess. Fuck. So all these years were not in vain? All of these years you watched him falling for Shelly, but it turned out he fell for you? Really? God must be joking.

"Me too," You break the silence between the two of you. "I like you, too. Since a long time ago," your breath hitched.

Owen loves you. He always do.

You're the reason he kept a random rock in his bedroom because it looks like a heart (and you're the one who gave it). The reason he wears a particular color because you told him it emphasizes his eye color. The reason he listens to a particular indie band, because you told him their lyrics is poetic as hell. (He hates bands, but who cares).

You're the reason for so many little things in his life, that he didn't think about much, but makes his life worth living. You.

"C-can we.. kiss?" For the first time in your life, you see Owen stuttered. His cheeks and ears heat up, painting the pale skin with faint tint of pink.

You chuckled softly, "Sure."

His long, pale hands cradled your head softly. As if it was the most frail thing. Without any rush, without any urge, he pulls himself closer to you. He tilts his head to the side slightly, adjusting his position before putting his lips on yours.

He settles his lips on yours, slowly and softly sucking on your lower lips. Owen tastes like the americano he drank before biking. Bitter and slightly sweet from the candy he finished before knocking on your door. You, on the other hand, tastes like mint. Tastes like the toothpaste you used before opening the door. The cool and minty scent lingers in your mouth.

The kiss is not good. It isn't like how people potrayed them in movies or novels—but it's perfect and special. Because you shared them with Owen.

Both of you pulled back after few seconds, looking at each other in love and adoration while the moon shines through. You smiled softly, patting his shoulder. "It's late. Go home, okay?"

Owen nods. "Sure do," He gives a light peck in your right cheek. "I'll text you when I got home. Good night." Owen ruffles your hair softly, as he puts on his helmet.

Owen smiles to himself all the way home. He is sure and certain about his own feelings this time, and he's right.

[charmandabear]

Office Hours - Chapter Three

Summary:

Astarion surprises you by inviting you to his place... for a real date? The evening doesn't go as expected when you uncover the darkness in his past.

Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 5.4k Tags/Warnings: mentions of Astarion's past, vampire bites, blood drinking, blow job, p in v sex, fluff with a very small side of angst, Shadowheart being a bit of a manic pixie dream best friend

Since y'all are insistent on encouraging my worst tendencies, here, have the longest single thing I've ever written. I think about Professor Astarion at all waking (and sleeping at this point) hours. I have other things planned, I will eventually write something else, I promise. But also... this one is now becoming a full-fledged multi-chapter fic. I'm half-considering rewriting the first few chapters so it's in third-person? I don't know though, let me know what you think.

H1ghVoltage and Zaria were both invaluable betas for this one, I appreciate you both so much. And Zaria for always providing the most perfect screenshots at the drop of a hat. This literally would not exist without you.

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

“Excuse me? The one you’re always going on about?” Shadowheart’s eyebrows disappear into her platinum bangs as she tucks her feet underneath her, holding up her wine glass so it doesn’t spill. The two of you met while moving into adjacent apartments a few years prior; it turned out you had both just been hired at the university, her at the Divinity School and you at the College of Arts and Sciences. Since then you’ve become fast friends, and you’re finally filling her in on all of the details of the whirlwind that has been the past few days. You hide your chagrin behind a sip of wine.

“Okay, listen, yes, but hear me out. He looks like this.” You hold out your phone and show her the English department faculty page.

“Oh. Oh,” she says in a low tone as her eyes study the screen. “Okay, you didn’t tell me that.” 

“I think I was in denial,” you whine as you drop your head onto the couch cushion. “I focused on how much of an asshole he is to distract me from how hot he is.”

“And now? Will you see him again?” She tosses your phone at your feet and you lift your gaze.

“I don’t know? He made a joke about having sex in my office but I don’t think he actually meant it.” You cast a sidelong glance at Shadowheart, trying to gauge her expression.

“Scandalous,” she smiles into the rim of her glass before taking a long sip. You pick up your phone, looking at his portrait. It looks like a candid photo but it’s very clearly composed. He’s sitting pitched forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He’s looking off to the side and his brow is furrowed like he’s engaged in vigorous academic debate. It’s wildly pretentious.

You drop your phone again and angrily sip at your wine, letting the dry red flood over your tongue and coat the inside of your mouth. You notice Shadowheart eyeing you suspiciously.

“Do you want to?” she asks, and you put your glass onto the coffee table and curl your knees into your chest further.

“I… I don’t know? Like obviously the sex is good. Really good,” you add under your breath, and Shadowheart looks at you salaciously as your cheeks flush. “But whenever he says more than five words I want to gouge my eyes out.”

“Is that really how you feel, or have you just convinced yourself to feel that way?” she carefully asks. You glare at her, but you can't bring yourself to disagree. You drop your less-than-menacing expression and cover your face in your hands. You let out an exasperated sigh before suddenly gasping and looking up at her with wide eyes.

“Nine hells, did I tell you what else happened? At least one student knows. I saw her coming out of his office and she made some comment about ‘We all see how you look at him.’” You flop onto your side, burying your face in the couch cushion once again.

“Well, I suppose that answers your question, at least,” Shadowheart says reassuringly, and you narrow your eyes at her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean if you like him enough that your students are noticing, then you have to pursue him. The worst that’ll happen is you’ll break up and you can go back to hating him.” She’s awfully nonchalant about having just described a literal nightmare.

“Excuse me, how is that possibly meant to make me feel better?” you gape at her.

“At least you get a good shagging out of the deal, right?” she grins at you, and her teeth are tinged purple from the wine. You kick your foot out at her.

“Man, we need to get you laid, don’t we?” you tease and she groans.

“Listen, you just told me that you got railed twice in three days, it’s not that good out here for most of us.” Now it’s her turn to cover her face and you laugh. You pick up your wine and stretch your legs out to nudge Shadowheart’s calf.

“Who knows, maybe there’s some hot chick in the English department that he can hook you up with.” She pushes your leg back and rolls her eyes.

“Absolutely not, English academics are the worst.”

***

You have no idea what to expect when you inevitably run into Astarion the next day. You're tempted to just work from home since you don’t have any classes, but you have another damn season selection committee meeting that you can't miss, and you'd rather be around for students to drop in if they need to. 

You're on your way to the bathroom at the end of the day when you finally see him. You almost don't, at first, since you're looking down at your phone and you stop short of barrelling into him. You lock eyes and smile politely, then step to your left just as he steps to his right. You two share an awkward laugh just as it happens again in the opposite direction. After another few seconds of uncomfortable shuffling, he takes you by your shoulders and moves you to the side. You give him a thankful grin and quickly move past, trying to ignore the burning in your cheeks and the way your arms tingle where he touched you.

You get to the bathroom and close the door behind you, leaning against it to brace yourself. Your stomach is roiling, though whether it was from the embarrassment, the insatiable lust, or something else entirely, you can't quite tell. You turn on the faucet and splash your face with cool water. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, trying to will yourself into stoicism. It's a losing battle as the image of him having you bent over the sink pops into your mind. You shake your head, trying to think of something else, but that only makes it worse.

He’s pressed you up against the bathroom door and he's got your wrists pinned together above your head.

No, stop, you scold yourself. But the second you banish that image another one comes flooding in, your leg draped over his shoulder as he’s lightly sucking your clit with his fingers curled inside you.

You're dizzy with the mental image and you try to wrest it from your mind. You focus on the visual stimuli around you, the white tile, the fluorescent lights, the small blue stain beneath the soap dispenser. Eventually you find yourself back in your body and you massage your temples, trying to focus. 

Your head is still reeling slightly as you make your way back to your office. You unlock the door, completely unaware of his presence behind you until you catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. You yelp and in an instant he’s towering over you with your back up against the wall. 

“Almighty gods, Astarion,” you swear breathlessly, your heart pounding more from the scare than the proximity for once. The proximity doesn’t help, however, when he tilts your chin with his knuckle and smiles devilishly. 

“Come to my place, let me cook you dinner,” he purrs, and your breath quickens. But when his words finally break through the seductive tone, something in your brain stops.

“Wait, cook? Can you- do you even- how-” You still haven’t fully recovered and your mouth struggles to form words. His smile widens and you know he’s enjoying watching you splutter.

“What, do you think in all of my 350 years I've never bedded a mortal? Besides,” he trails his hand down your neck and strokes it gently with his thumb, sending a shiver down your spine, “I have other ways of getting my fill.”

You instinctively tilt your head for him, almost like you’re inviting him to bite right here and now. You manage to recoup your senses just enough to quip, “I’m sure you have plenty of experience luring cute mortals back to your place.”

You think you see his jaw tighten for a fraction of a second, but it’s gone before you can be sure.

“I’ll take it as a yes, then?” He pulls away and adjusts his glasses, his fingers sliding into his hair. You nod, not trusting the words to come out of your mouth. He pulls a slip of paper from his pocket and tucks it into the neckline of your shirt, a move that would have been unbearably corny coming from anyone else.

“See you then… lover.” He winks and glides out of the room as silently as he came in. You take a breath to steady yourself, a voice in the back of your head grumbling because of how much he has you wrapped around his finger. But admittedly, he seemed equally flustered when you almost plowed into him a few minutes ago.

Maybe not the best choice of words.

You pull the piece of paper out to see an address, date, and time. Tomorrow at 7. 

Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool.

Now you just need to occupy yourself for the next 26 hours and not completely lose your nerve.

***

Occupying yourself isn’t terribly difficult with Shadowheart around. She keeps you busy all day with various errands, shopping, anything to keep you from spiraling.

Nevertheless, when it’s finally time to get dressed, you find yourself overthinking every tiny element. You stand frozen in front of your open underwear drawer trying to decide between the black lace or the pink satin.

“Shadowheeeaaaarrrrrtttt,” you call out to her in the other room. She pops her head in and gives you a pitying smile as she sees your anxiety-ridden face.

“Alright, sit, let me help,” she clinks her glass down on your dresser and nudges you until you’re sitting on your bed, fidgeting with the belt of your robe. 

“Black lace, it’s sexier,” she says sagely, tossing the panties at you and you slide them on under your robe. She pulls the plaid skirt out of the shopping bag and flings it onto the bed. 

“Put that on because we both agreed it’s adorable. It might be warm enough to go without tights?” she muses, then glances at you mischievously. “And since he has a track record of destroying those, maybe go with these instead.” She throws a pair of thigh highs at you and they hit you in the face. You wrinkle your nose.

“Careful,” you warn, but she ignores you. She floats over to your closet and sifts through the hangers. She pulls out a top, shifts her gaze between you and the garment a few times, then drops it on the floor. After another moment of searching, she pulls out a blousy cardigan, throwing it on the bed next to you.

“Don’t put that on yet, I’ll be right back.” She disappears before you can say anything. You’re left sitting on your bed in just your bra and skirt, and you rub your feet together with a restless energy.

Shadowheart returns just a few minutes later holding a lacy top that reads more as lingerie than an actual shirt. She returns your skeptical frown with a giant grin.

“Shade, I'm not wearing that,” you gripe, and she throws it in your face.

“Put it on before you judge,” she chides in response, and you roll your eyes. 

“Fine, but it probably won't fit,” you say as you take off your bra and don the sheer v-neck cami. Other than straining around your chest slightly, the fit is fine. You put on the oversized cardigan over it and look at the full effect in your floor length mirror.

“See, told you,” she says smugly as you admire your reflection. And it's true, the underwear-as-outerwear really does bring the look from glorified schoolgirl cosplay into something a bit more refined. You give her a disgruntled sidelong glance but otherwise say nothing.

“Alright, get going. Go put your shoes on and chase that Ph D.” She pushes you out of your bedroom and towards the front door of your apartment. “Don't worry about me, I'll be here drinking your wine and masturbating all by myself while you get fucked through the end of the tenday.”

You slip on your black suede ankle boots and pleadingly look at Shadowheart one more time. You're still not convinced that this whole thing isn’t just a trip into the lion’s den.

“Go! I look forward to hearing all the gory details,” she says and plants a smooch on your cheek. She then smacks your ass as you head out the door, your yelp earning a satisfied smirk.

Sure enough, when you find yourself outside his apartment door, you can feel your cold feet catching up with you. You're about to take out your phone and text Shadowheart that you're going to leave when his door opens.

“Hello, beautiful,” he croons, and the syrup in his voice makes your mouth go dry. The sleeves of his white button down are rolled up and the first few buttons are undone, leaving his collarbone exposed. The black vest tapers in his waist and flows seamlessly into his well-tailored trousers. But the first thing you notice is his glasses.

“Your glasses are different,” you blurt, internally cursing your bluntness. His eyebrows pop up above the thicker plastic frames.

“Is that a problem?” he asks without a hint of malice in his voice. You blush and quickly shake your head.

“No I- I like them. They look good,” you stutter, looking away from the heat of his gaze. He smiles and takes your hand almost like he's leading you in a courtly dance, pulling you inside.

You look around his apartment, noticing the similarities to the hominess of his office. Big overfull bookshelves, warm-lit lamps dotted around the space, papers and other junk littered across every surface. It still surprises you that he doesn’t keep a tidy space, but at the same time you find it oddly charming.

You spot a hairless cat sitting on some mail on a table in the corner, delicately licking its paw. 

“Aww, who’s this?” You approach the cat, holding out your hand for it to sniff. It hisses in response and you take a step back.

“That's His Majesty, and you're best to respect his wishes,” Astarion calls from the kitchen.

“You named your cat His Majesty?” you ask, trying to suppress the laugh bubbling in your throat.

“No, he named himself His Majesty,” he replies, returning from the kitchen with a spoonful of risotto. “Taste,” he commands and you obediently open your mouth. The steaming food coats your tongue with a tangy, savory taste. You nod at him, barely trusting yourself to speak. It tastes incredible.

You turn back to His Majesty, and you notice an empty potion of animal speaking tipped on its side near him.

“Well I'll just admire such a handsome creature from a distance, then,” you say and His Majesty preens slightly. You can hear a hum of approval from Astarion as he retreats back into the kitchen.

This man is full of contradictions. Pristine, clean cut outward appearance with a cluttered, disorganized space. Cool and disaffected, but he loves his cat enough to use potions to communicate with him. He doesn't need to eat, but somehow he’s an incredible cook? You frown to yourself; it feels like something doesn't add up.

You start scanning one of the bookshelves, wondering what else you can learn about him. If there was an organizational system, it wasn't clear. 48 Laws of Power, History of Modern Sexuality, On the Genealogy of Morality, Gender Trouble… Ayn Rand sitting next to Octavia Butler?

What the fuck does he like?

“How is my collection of books holding up in your estimation?” Astarion’s sudden presence behind you makes you jump. He presses a wine glass into your hand and ghosts his lips across the crook of your neck, sending a swath of goosebumps down your arms.

“Did I tell you that you look absolutely delicious?” he murmurs into your skin, and you can already feel yourself getting lightheaded.

“You're one to talk,” you say on a dizzied exhale, and the breath from his laugh tickles your shoulder. He puts his hands on your waist, running a finger along the inside of the waistband of your skirt. He gives it a gentle tug and you unconsciously move in the direction he’s pulling.

“Come eat,” he says, guiding you to a table with one place setting. You sit, feeling awkward as he sits across from you, a wine glass in his hand.

“Are you just going to watch me eat?” you laugh nervously. He smiles into the glass, glancing at you above the rectangular frames sliding down his nose.

“Well if you're insistent, I can have my dinner as well.” He's not subtle about leering at your neck, sparking a flicker of heat in your belly. You distract yourself by taking another bite of the risotto, which somehow tastes even better than what he fed you before.

“So what do you experience when you have… food?” you ask, trying to shift his attention off you eating. He looks up as he thinks, and you find your gaze tracing his jawline.

“It’s… sour. Like it’s spoiled. But when something is cooked well, and with high quality ingredients, it’s more bearable.”

You look down at your food, the taste dancing across your palette. It's certainly better than something you could make for yourself. But you know so little about cooking techniques besides the basics that you don’t know what the difference would even be.

“And you're drinking wine. What does that taste like?” You try not to stare at the dark red liquid collecting on his lips, but it’s hard not to when his tongue darts out to lick it up.

“Alcohol has a higher threshold for quality, so it's generally more palatable. It usually means a higher budget for these things, but it's not as though I'm spending much on groceries.” He narrows his eyes at you, but you can't read his expression. 

“Well go on,” he continues, and you tilt your head in confusion. “Ask the question that you really want to ask.” Your heart starts beating a little faster and he smirks. Gods, you really hate that he can read you like that. It would be nice to keep at least one emotion private.

“What does blood taste like?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but it's clear that he hears you. His smile widens just enough to show off his fangs.

“It depends on the person,” he replies just as casually as if you had asked him about his taste in music. “Some are sweeter, like a nice rich port, while others have a bit of a burn, like whiskey. However, you?” He places his glass on the table and stands, and you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. He crosses behind your chair and sweeps your hair to the side, lasciviously inhaling your scent behind your ear, eliciting a shiver.

“Yours is smooth with a hint of spice, like a fine aged brandy. But the finish has an addictive quality, like absinthe.” He nips lightly at the base of your neck without breaking skin.

“Such pretty words,” you exhale on a breathy moan, reaching a hand up behind you and running your fingers through his hair, pulling him toward you ever so slightly.

“Is that what you want?” he breathes into your ear, and you arch your back in your seat, panting. You can barely get out the “yes” before he sweeps you out of the chair and wraps your legs around his waist. He carries you into the kitchen, placing you on the counter and pressing your knees apart with his torso. You whine and the cool tile pressing into your ass reminds you of his touch. He slides one hand behind your head and the other around your waist, and sinks his teeth into your neck.

The initial pain surprises you every time, and your yelp is followed by his satisfied groan. You grip the back of his neck as he drinks, and you can feel the muscles working with each swallow. The feeling of your blood coursing through both of your bodies gets you high, knowing it's your blood that flushes his lips, cheeks, and ears. It's your blood flowing to his cock. The reminder of it makes you clench instinctively.

He pulls away just as you're teetering on the edge of passing out. He’s always panting after he feeds, his glasses slightly askew and a ravenous look in his eye that makes your mouth water. You pull him into a heated kiss, the metallic tang on his lips becoming a sensory reminder of the post-feeding bliss. 

You pull him closer with your feet, aching just to feel him pressed against you. Your hands scramble against his back, tugging at his collared shirt. He’s wearing far too many layers and he hasn’t even blessed you with the sight of his gorgeous sculpted chest yet. 

You slide a hand into the back of his collar, desperate for his skin, when your fingers brush over thick raised scar tissue. He pulls back faster than you do and your hands immediately go to cover your mouth.

“I'm sorry, I didn’t–” you begin but the pained look in his eye makes you stop short.

“No it's… it's fine. I've had those for a very long time. I… ah…” he stutters, adjusting his glasses uncomfortably, and you've never seen him so flummoxed.

“What are they from?” The question leaves your mouth before you can stop it. You're about to retract, tell him he doesn't need to answer, when he speaks quietly.

“They're from… the man who turned me. He kept me as a slave for 200 years. It’s something written in infernal, but I never found out what it said. And his death ensured I never would.” He speaks while looking down at the floor, his distant gaze indicating that he's somewhere else entirely.

“Astarion…” you breathe, and you cup his face in your hands. He smirks and snakes his arms around your waist; the mask is back on.

“Don’t worry about me, darling,” he says with a composed smile, “it was a very long time ago. I’m more concerned with tonight.” He moves to kiss your neck again but you put your hand against his chest to stop him.

“No- well, I mean yes to tonight, but… let me take care of you,” you say softly, and his careful expression slips again.

“I- well if that’s what you want.” He crinkles his brow, unsure of what to make of your proposal.

“Is it what you want?” You stroke his cheek, and it suddenly feels like this is an entirely different man standing in front of you. Hesitant, vulnerable, his usual swaggering confidence replaced with an uncertain tenderness that makes your heart pound in a way that feels wholly unfamiliar with him.

“I’m not sure,” he says, his voice dropping to just above a whisper.

“We don’t have to,” you offer quickly, “we can just fuck up against a wall or something.” The joke breaks the tension and he lets out a little giggle.

“What do you have in mind?” He looks up at you through heavy-lidded eyes, and you ease off the counter and gently nudge him backwards toward his bedroom. He follows your lead, his doubtful look shifting into something of excitement and mischief. You guide him until the back of his knees hit the bed, and you push him to sit. 

You straddle his lap and run your fingers through his silvery curls. You kiss along his jawline and down his neck, placing a particularly tender kiss on his bite scar. He exhales heavily, sliding his hands up your thighs and resting them on your lower back.

You begin carefully unbuttoning his vest, followed by his shirt, untucking the hem from his pants. You slide it down his shoulders and onto the bed behind him, letting your warm hands run over the cool planes of his skin. His eyes follow your movements carefully and you take your time, tracing over every divet, every freckle and mole. You delight in his gasp when your fingers dance over his navel and down to his belt buckle.

You slip off his lap and drop between his legs, your hands continuing their journey along his hips. You plant increasingly hungry kisses above his waistband as you remove his belt and unzip his pants. He leans back on his hands as his breathing quickens, but he doesn’t take his eyes off you.

You’re struck with the irony that the last time you were between Astarion’s legs like this it was to get revenge, to make him feel flustered and speechless the way he always does to you. Now you have him, flustered and speechless, and all you want is to worship him, make him feel warm and safe.

You slide his pants down under his ass, pulling them all the way off so he’s sitting on his bed fully nude. You run your lips along his inner thigh as you palm his growing erection. 

“Ah- wait,” he stammers and you immediately look up and pull back.

“Yes?” you ask, frozen by the fear that you’ve gone too far.

“I want to see you,” he whispers, nudging your cardigan off your shoulder. “All of you.”

It’s hard to believe that someone sitting naked in front of you can make you feel so exposed. You shiver as you drop the cardigan off your back, the sudden exposure to cool air making your nipples poke through the lacy top that Shadowheart gave you. You stand and he watches intently as you unzip your skirt, letting it fall to the floor in a pool at your feet. His expression gives little away, but his cock doesn’t. By the time you’ve removed the black panties, thigh highs, and cami, it stands at full attention. His knees squeeze around your legs and his arms pull you in close to him, pressing his nose against your belly. You card your fingers through his hair and down to his chin, tilting his head upwards.

“Better?” you breathe, and he nods, his eyes round and wide. You bend down to kiss him, slow and languid, before dropping to your knees again. When you pull away his mouth stays open, suspended in the shape of your kiss.

You settle between his knees and lightly kiss the head of his dick. You flick your gaze upward, monitoring his expression as you lazily run your fingers along his shaft. His glasses balance on the tip of his nose as he looks down at you, transfixed by your ministrations. You open your lips slightly, not quite taking him into your mouth yet as you softly cup his balls in your hand. You can hear his breath growing ragged, and he rewards you with an almost inaudible moan when your tongue finally wets his cock.

You wrap your lips around his tip, gently working the underside with your tongue. You run your hands up his thighs, squeezing his hips as they buck into you. You take more of him in, the warmth of your mouth contrasting with the cool, sensitive skin. He groans and tangles his fingers in your hair, a gesture that feels closer to petting than pulling.

You pull your mouth off his cock, wrapping your hand around the now slick shaft. You run your thumb along the slit, and his responding shutter makes you smile.

“Ah- enjoying yourself?” he murmurs, unable to keep his voice steady. You look up at him and drag your tongue along his entire length.

“I am, are you?” you hum, taking him back into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the tip. His leg quivers beside you, his toes curling inward.

“Mmph,” he grunts in assent, his hand twisting into your hair a little more. You slip your hands under his thighs and slide your mouth further down, letting him fill you up. His hips jerk, wanting to thrust into you, and you relax your jaw to let him. His little pants and disjointed moans send a jolt of heat down to your core, and you can feel yourself becoming wet with desire for him. 

You reach down and slip your middle finger between your slick folds, your groan vibrating into him. He hisses and pulls you off his cock and into a fierce kiss. The two of you tumble backwards onto the bed, your hair encircling you like a curtain. You press your bodies together, the smoldering heat spreading into a raging wildfire. He lines himself up with your entrance as you continue your desperate assault on his lips. He slides in with ease and your cry into his mouth accompanies him bottoming out. 

You push yourself up, bracing yourself on his chest as you grind into him. He plants his hands on your hips, thrusting up into you. Your head falls back in ecstasy, your hair cascading down the length of your back. You increase the pace of your rolling hips, each breath growing more voiced as you approach your peak. 

“Oh gods, Astarion,” you babble, his name falling out of your mouth like a prayer. He realizes you’re getting close, he sits up and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him tight. He latches onto your nipple, flicking his tongue and sucking to send your pleasure to staggering heights. You arch your back into him as your arms hook over his shoulders, brushing your hands against those awful scars. Your hands splay across his back as if to say no one will ever hurt you like that again. 

You pull his face to yours so that you can taste his lips as you crash over the edge. The kiss is broken up by your cries and you can feel his cock throbbing inside you, his grunts in time with his pulsing seed. You stay still and connected as the waves of pleasure ebb and flow and finally settle. The only noise left in the room is both of your heavy panting, and the telltale sound of just your heart pounding.

His hands slide down your back as you carefully pull yourself off him and you shiver as his now-soft cock falls out of you. You kneel next to him and rest your head on his shoulder, and he reaches over to stroke your jaw.

“Thank you,” he hums softly, and you press another sweet kiss to his neck. His scar.

After a moment you let out a contented sigh, then you say, “Well, I should probably gather my things and go, then.” You begin to stand to dress, but his hand closes around your wrist. You turn to him, unable to hide the surprise on your face.

“Or you could… stay. If you want.” He looks up at you through smudged and sweaty glasses and a smile tugs at your lips.

“What do you want?” you ask, and you watch him shift uncomfortably with a question that he’s not used to answering.

“I want…” he begins, hesitant. “I want to watch last year’s Globe production of Much Ado About Nothing with you. You said you like that one, right?” Your ears grow hot as you realize the extent to which he actually paid attention to you, even before you were sleeping together.

“I do, yeah. One of his best,” you say, your voice cracking slightly as you repeat his words back to him. That interaction feels like it was eons ago, when in fact it was less than a tenday. 

He smirks, some of his confident charm seeping back into his demeanor. He scoots back on the bed until he’s resting against the headboard, and then he reaches out to you, inviting you to curl in next to him. You oblige, and he turns on the TV across from the bed, pulling up the pro-shot. You sink in next to him, appreciating how his chest cools your flushed cheek.

A single word gnaws at the back of your mind and you banish it quickly. 

No, that’s the oxytocin talking.

It’s just been a long time since you’ve slept with someone more than once.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and the gnawing grows more insistent.

…

Fuck.

[kissitbttr]

you think miguel would have a positive reaction when he finds out you like him?

i’d like to think he’d be sooo awkward about it lmao. also not knowing how to react (+doesn’t even believe it)

-

he’s never had any real relationships before (unless with one many years ago) , maybe few flings here and there but it was never that serious. talking to people has never been his forte, that man is too fucking stoic that others would basically mistaken him as a rock. he holds too much of serious conversations and never know how to let things go, so to some, that could be an ultimate deal breaker.

there had been times where he got hit on multiple times, and he always brushed them off by saying ‘beat it’

he’s never willing to try again. not like he needed to anyway. his mind is already occupied with work.

but then came along you.

you with your pretty eyes,pretty hair, cute bubbly personality and flirty persona that got everyone hooked. he’s seen how you interact with others and he hates it. because you’re so distracting that it would make the others lose focus and he doesn’t appreciate that. he hates it.

or maybe the reason he hates it so much it’s the fact that you always flirt with Ben and call him ‘puddin.’ always running up to him and give him a hug—sometimes he’d see you wrap your legs around him too.

why would you do that? don’t you know that he fucking. hates it?

why would you ever create a nickname only for Ben? what about the others? why not him? why not Miguel?

do you like Ben?

Miguel doesn’t even know why it bothers him, but it does keep him up at night. he doesn’t like you, does he? you two barely talked and even when you do talk it’s mainly work matters. he refuses to like you.

“you’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?”

Lyla’s playful voice snaps him out of his train of thoughts as he quickly remains his posture,

Miguel clears his throat. “don’t know what you’re talking about.” his brows furrowing as his eyes remain focus on his computer screen,

“oh come on, you’re not fooling anybody. i can see the way you look at her when she’s talking or laughing. you’ve got heart eyes, my man.” Lyla teases, smirking lightly. “and i also remember correctly how you almost smash a laptop towards Ben when you saw him with her at the cafeteria and you gave him a ‘pep talk’?”

“because it wasn’t professional. this is not a place where two coworkers can flirt with each other as they please.” he responds lamely, knowing that is not a good enough excuse for Lyla to believe. she’s smarter than that.

“one. i didn’t say anything about them flirting. two. Ben came out of your office shaking and refused to talk to anyone for days! you’re crazy you know that?”

Miguel rolls his eyes, waving his hand over. “get back to work Lyla.”

“you like her.”

“no i don’t” he lies, gulping slightly. see that’s the thing about him. when he lies, he gets nervous. and Lyla can see that crystal clear.

“oh my god you totally do! i knew my instincts never wrong. Jess thought the same too”

“what the—“

“you know, usually? when a guy likes someone he’d ask the girl out. Not being a creep about it and threaten almost everyone at work to stay away from her.”

“i do not. like her” he emphasizes quite heavily, pinching between his forehead with his finger and thumb. “this is not important Lyla, we’ve got better things to do.”

as she about to say what a bad liar he is, she sees a silhouette of a woman walking into the office. you’re entering the room with a smile on your face and give Lyla a small wave as she returns one,

“speak of the angel herself. gotta go!” Lyla cheery voice causing him to whip his head. “Good luck!”

“wait what?! Lyla! Don’t—“ his voice gets cut off once the hologram disappears, groaning afterwards.

he hears your footsteps getting closer but he tries to keep his composure and not acknowledge you. perhaps he’s being an asshole but hey, what else is new?

“ouch. never met someone who’s very unhappy to see me. you’re definitely the first.” you pout pretending to be hurt, taking few steps closer to where he’s at,

he ignores your comment as he keeps his eyes fixated on the screen. “I’m working. what do you need?”

“just stopping by. it’s getting pretty boring out there you know? Miles is nowhere to be seen, Peter is busy with Mayday, Gwen is catching up with Jess and Hobie— i don’t even want to begin. Thought I’d come and see you.”

his heart definitely isn’t beating hard. definitely not.

“aren’t you usually with Ben? i see the two of you always talking in the hallways. why not go to him?”

you groan, throwing your head back as you start walking around. “ugh! all he talks about is muscles and protein sources! not to mention he never skips flexing. he’s got penis for brain, i don’t why you hired that guy. such a Ken doll.”

Miguel is glad that you aren’t facing him. because you manage to bring a small smile to his face with that comment. you’d never gonna let that one go if you see him smiling.

“well he’s good. he’s a great partner. better than Peter, I’d say. no reason to kick him off.”

“oh I’ll kick him alright” you roll your eyes as if it’s the obvious thing and you miss how miguel tries to hold back his laughter. he likes how feisty you get sometimes,

“have you—eaten already?” miguel awkwardly tries to start a conversation once he realizes the two of you sit there in silence for fifteen minutes. he must’ve think that you’re waiting for him to say something,

your lips curve into a small smirk as you watch how adorable he gets when he’s nervous. scratching the back of his head and trying his best to avoid an eye contact. it’s easy to tell how you make him shrink like a little kid crushing on his classmate.

yeah, Jess and Lyla told you everything. so this would be fun

“nope” you shake your head, rolling the chair closer in front of him as you slightly move forward. you admire the way his eyes stare intently into something, how his lower lip poke out in concentration and the way his thick brows knitted together making it impossible for you to stay sane.

does he know he’s handsome as fuck? and sexy too? his rough image and demeanor maybe look a bit intimidating to some but to you?

biggest turn on.

“why, you wanna take me out to lunch or something?”

he chokes at that, eyes finally looking up to you as he sees the playful smile on your face and the way your head tilt to the side. as if you’re teasing him,

“no. it was just a simple question.” he replies boringly. “why haven’t you eaten yet? it’s almost three. quieres enfermarte?”

“well” you start, moving slowly towards his side with him watching you like a hawk, eyeing every move. “i’m actually waiting for you to buy me lunch. there’s a new Asian cuisine in the cafeteria called beef rendang… i think? and boy it smells so good! why don’t we go together? plus you need a fucking break, man. you’ve been at this shit for hours.”

miguel is both surprised and confused. why the sudden invitation? why are you even talking to him? he lightly scoffs at how bold you are but he will never admit how much he likes it,

“why are you suddenly taken an interest in talking to me?”

“what are you talking about?” you ask playing dumb, looping a finger around the belt hole of your flared jeans. “I’ve always been interested.”

his heart skips at that. and he has no idea if you meant it or actually joking.

he says nothing only a hum. you assume that he’s disappointed with your answer because it isn’t specific. so you decide to continue,

leaning your body forward, you’re close enough to invade his personal space as you pretend to whisper a dark secret. “because i like you. like—like you like you. isn’t it obvious?”the answer is simple. pretty straightforward and you guess that he doesn’t get that often because of how he reacts.

he halts. beautiful eyes widen in surprise as he slowly turns to you who wears the opposite expression. a wide smile painted on your glossed lips, legs swinging back and forth—he admits that you look cute doing that—blinking your eyes rapidly in flirty manner.

you’re the only person who can make him weak on his knees. everyone can see that.

“what?”

“what?”

“what you just said.” he points, now his work left abandoned. deciding to focus on you. “did you mean it?”

“every word.”

“are you sure?”

“why is it so hard for you to believe me?” you ask out of curiosity. brows furrowed as your arms crossed,

“nothing it’s just—“he scratches his head, looking down because he’s afraid if he looks into your eyes he’d form into a puddle. “you were never—you never said anything, carińo. i didn’t even think you like me.”

you nod, crossing your legs. “I’m just gonna ignore how you call me that unless you want me to get down on my knees and give you the best fucking head you will ever have.”

for what it’s like a hundredth time, he blushes at your choice of words. God, you have no filter at all.

“how could i say something when all you do is talk serious shit all the time? can’t even joke with you Miguel. people are basically scared of you. hell! even I’m terrified of you.” you confess,

“is that why you never—call me names?”

“what, a dick? or an ass?”

“no!” he exclaims, sounding offended. wondering if that what you must have thought of him back then. “i mean—you never give me a nickname—only with Ben” he mutters, feeling embarrassed of having to admit that out loud,

you scrunch your nose. “puddin? why is that even—ohhh” a sudden realization hit you and that’s where you laugh, throwing your head back and Miguel looks irritated at the fact you’re laughing,

“something funny?”

you nod your head vigorously, still laughing a bit as you wipe a tear from the corner of your eye. “Jess and Lyla are sooo right. you’re jealous.”

“i’m not!”

“hmm yes you are.” you giggle, seeing how his lips form into a pout and the skin between his eyebrows wrinkled. “that’s cute though. i promise not to tell anyone.”

he huffs, but internally relieved that you’re keeping your mouth shut. he will never hear the end of it by anyone if that one gets out.

“so..” he trails, releasing a small sigh. “you.. like me..?”

once again you nod, “i do.”

“g-good cause uh—i kinda like you too.”

“kinda?” you pretend to get hurt, hand over your heart. “is that all?! I’m quite offended! i poured my heart out to you!”

“ay, bueno listo! a lot! i like you—a lot.” he finally confesses, leg bouncing up and down due to nerves. “i just don’t how to say it or at least—act like it.”

“i can see that. you’re horrible at showing emotions except for anger, Miguel.” you reply, standing from your seat as you extend your hand to him. "but don't worry. i'll show you how to love. now come on."

he quirks an eyebrow, giving you an questioning look. "what are you doing?"

"uhm, getting some food? i'm starved. and you're coming with me. you have to eat something" a smile reaches your lips as he begins to mirror your expression while placing his hand on yours before standing up as well. you like how he towers over you. he’s a freakishly large man

“okay. i’d like that actually, querida.”

you give him a toothy grin. both of your hands are intertwined as the two of you walk towards the exist. you sense Miguel feeling awkward about the hand holding thing so you decide to ease his nerves by rubbing your thumb slightly against his skin.

“oh and also. you shall worry not a single thing about the whole nickname thing. you can choose what you like to be called by me and it’s all yours.”

-

a/n: this turned into a long ass fic im sorry lol

also does this one make sense? i feel like it’s rushed:// nevertheless hope you enjoy!

[i would let this man tear my pu—*phone drops*]

[gamefan546]

Here’s an overly long analysis about how Mr Puzzles always seems to end up alone and how that’s effected my view on the character. Feel free to read if you want idk.

So, after the latest video, I’ve sort of realized that Mr Puzzles seems to have this pattern of ending up completely alone, and it sort of caused my mind to spiral on about how this pattern goes with his character...

Let’s take a look at his backstory for a moment. The main catalyst as to why he ended up the way that he did is because he never had any friends as a child. From what little we see of his childhood during Creative Control, it seems like nobody really wanted to be his friend, no matter how much he tried to find anybody who can be his buddy. And while we don’t get any info on his parents (apart from Puzzles saying his father told him not to talk to strangers in D.M.P), the fact that he spent most of his life in front of a TV screen could suggest that they weren’t a big part of his life, if at all.

Then we get to D.M.P, where he finds Leggy. As far as we know, Leggy is one of, if not the first persons in Puzzles life to offer him any sort of support, even if it’s only because she’s in one of his parodies. Throughout the episode, we see Puzzles get genuinely attactched to Leggy as an ally, even going as far as to nearly have a panic attack when she get’s snatched away (by Smg4 of all people, I might add). By the end of the video, we see that he does appreciate Leggy being a partner-in-crime for him, even if he doesn’t really want to admit it and just wants to see her as a means to an end.

But by the end of the very next episode, we see Leggy, Puzzle’s only friend, get taken away for real as she reverts back to Meggy. As she unknowingly betrays Mr Puzzles, he goes through a brief moment of shock and sadness, before it quickly turns to rage that he directs at Mario. He goes as far as to say he *ruined* his life. This is more than him just being upset that his plans were foiled again. Whether he knew it or not, Mario just took away Puzzle’s one chance of having a friend.

Now we go on to the latest video, where we see him literally make a new ally in the form of Pedro; who, like Leggy, ends up leaving him to hang out with Mario. During the ending, Puzzles seems to go through a little reverse-version of how he was at the end of A Night at Smg4’s: he’s seen being furious with Mario, before quickly reverting to just being sad. Like his last big scheme, it just ends with him being alone, just like during his childhood.

With all these moments where Puzzles ends up sad after loosing potential friends in mind, I can’t help but look at his break down at the end of Puzzlevision in a different way. At first, it just seems that he’s distraught at the fact that the show he saw as “the stupidest show he’s ever seen” managed to beat out his own show’s ratings. But when looking at how he’s reacted to having his allies be taken away, I feel like maybe it’s less about that, and more so the fact that because of it, no one is able to be under his mind control anymore, and so he has no chance of having anyone alongside him.

When we see Mr. Puzzles controlling everyone after her gets 5 stars, he seems genuinely exited about the idea of EVERYONE being a part of his show. Maybe it’s not just because he likes the idea of life being one big TV show that he directs, but also because with everyone under his control, he finally has people that will be along side him. After a life of solitude where no one was his friend, he finally gets the chance to have EVERYONE be his friend. But as we all know, that dream of his quickly gets shattered.

I’m also wondering if the reason that reasons why Puzzles started targeting Smg4 and his cast wasn’t just “he didn’t like their show”, but also that he was envious of how many friends G4 has. When you think about it, G4 and Puzzles aren’t too different. Smg4 is a weirdo who’s obsessed with watching and creating memes, just like how Puzzles is a weirdo who’s obsessed with watching and creating TV shows; only Smg4 gets a whole cast of friends who have his back, while Mr. Puzzles has always ended up alone time and time again.

What’s especially tragic about this is that you can’t really blame the fact that Mr. Puzzles has no friends on anyone but himself. Puzzles has done HORRIBLE things, and has actually put the gang through some torture in some of his schemes. There’s a good reason why Meggy was so quick to pull her splattershot on him. Yet despite that he never changes himself. He never tries to actively make friends, never tries to see the error of his ways, and never tries to better himself. He’s always just too obsessed with himself to do all of that, even if changing would probably make him much happier…

Oh boy, there I go thinking WAY too deeply about the funny Super Mario Gmod series that I don’t even like that much again…

[wingzie]

The Life of a Jikooker, Online and Offline

Sometime last year I revealed my real first name on Twitter. Though I am known more prominently as “Wingzie”, a name given to me by a good friend of mine, I wanted to add a bit more of a human touch to my account. It was a reminder that, even if I spend a rather large amount of time making posts, I also have a life away from the screen. There's been a few occasions when my army life and personal life have become interlinked.

I am lucky enough to have made wonderful friends since becoming Army. Thus, I will always say that your fandom experience and enjoyment will depend on who you interact with and what you engage with. It's because of these friends that I have been to South Korea or gone to Olle in London for BTS’ tenth anniversary. I've explored new local places or exchanged gifts. It's also because of these friends that I felt safe enough to talk about Jikook in my first ever group chat in 2019. I feel a certain love and connection between us, online and offline, that I don't think many others will understand. 

However, there is a certain loneliness in being a jikooker. I have been unfairly judged or dismissed just for talking about them. Either individually or as a unit. It calls into question why this is. I personally do not see myself as a shipper. The definition of a shipper is that you WANT them to be together and that is not the case with me or many other jikookers at all. The definition of shipping has changed so much that we are seen as bad people just for talking about them, when we are just talking about their moments together.

In the last few months or so I have experienced more of an Army life outside of Twitter. I have been to various offline events and spoken to so many and I couldn’t help but notice two things: 1) Jikookers have a terrible reputation

2) People are scared to talk about them as a unit compared to others. The first part can be somewhat understandable and it’s why I never bother fighting. It brings negative attention to them, when we should be boosting them instead. All they see are people just attacking each other and it is sadly true that a small number of Jikookers are Tae antis. I have left a few group chats because of that or because of ex-jikookers hating on Jimin or Jungkook. However, there are also a huge number of us that DON'T behave this way and it depends on what you focus on.

At a previous event I bumped into a local Tae bias. She clearly knew who I was and was under the impression that I hated Tae. I soon proved her wrong but I guess this is where some of the problems lie: There are a lot of focus on stereotypes, without giving us the chance to prove otherwise. I have also been to events where Army have cited misinformation and they needed to be corrected. I am aware that not everyone has my memory, but they were so callous about their comments that I was shocked. There was a huge disconnect between reality and what they were thinking and it is so important to check sources. Especially when BTS' history and ours is so rich and can be easily accessible in this social media age. 

Being scared to talk about Jikook is something that will always confuse me. I joined a BTS Discord and left shortly afterwards when I realized that they had a channel for every until apart from Jikook. I also went to an event shortly after the “You can handle it” Weverse Live and the group I was with mentioned every single part of that Live, apart from when Jimin was in the comments. They also said some things about Jungkook that made me feel really uncomfortable and they ignored what I was trying to say. They saw him as a puppet, for their own desires, rather than his own person. And I think that is also something I have seen on the increase lately. It should be allowed and in fact encouraged to talk about them as a unit without being shamed for mentioning them together. Ignoring them doesn't help either.

I am Jimin and Jungkook biased, but the definition of having a bias itself has also changed. You cannot say you have a bias now without automatically saying “but I love all of them”, when that should go without saying. I have seen this change since Mots:7 and it emphasises how much the fandom definitions have changed and how it has also shaped our communities. I have been to other events where I am sadly seen as an anti, once they find out my Twitter ID. My account includes all members, I just happen to post about Jikook and their moments most of all and there is nothing wrong with that. Ultimately, I wrote this without any clear message or goal in sight. I just wanted to express what I have experienced and my feelings about it. I will always cherish the memories I have with those that are closest to me and our beautiful conversations about BTS or Jikook. I just wish others did the same and understood what this community is actually about, online and offiline. My account will always be a safe place for all the members and I refuse to be villainized for talking about Jikook at the same time.  Much Love Wingzie/Becca

[burst-of-iridescent]

I'm writing this as a big Katara stan. I just found out that a new film about an adult Gaang is planned to be released, and Katara, like Aang, will be given a leading role there. I am so excited and glad that finally Katara will be given due respect as a character!

But for some reason, after searching on Tumblr, I saw joy about a new film in the entire Atla fandom except for our zutara community. on the contrary, there is a lot of discontent and bitterness. But why is that? Is it because zutara won't be in the movie? Well, yes, zutara is a fanon ship, it will never be anywhere but our fanfics and fanart. But after all, Zutara is not in the original ATLA show, and we still love it! This is no reason not to rejoice at the opportunity to see our favorite characters on the screen again, to see Katara again (God, I'm screaming with delight😍😍😍😍). Yes, there is a chance that the writing will be bad, but there is always such a chance before the release of any film. I'm just so happy to see Katara again, and the whole gaang too, and her new design for this movie seems so great to mе!

i mean this genuinely, anon: i love that you love katara so much, and i am really happy for you that you're looking forward to the new movie. i truly hope you enjoy it.

i don't want to speak for the rest of zutara fandom, but i can't share your feelings because - to put it point-blank - i don't trust the creators with katara's character. ever since they lost their writing team, nothing they've created post-atla has proven to me that they understand katara's character, or how to create a good arc for her. it's telling that the only post-canon comic featuring a decent story for katara (katara and the pirate's silver) came out in 2020, twelve years after the original show ended (and which was also, notably, the first comic that bryan and mike were not involved with).

i'm sure some people are salty that they won't see canon zutara, but personally i'm relieved that i won't have to see bry.ke ruin romantic zutara like they did with their friendship post-atla. i'm sure they'll do their damnedest to fuck up what remains of zuko and katara's platonic relationship in the new movie, which is why canon ended for me with the final agni kai. no magic pointy rock or canon ships in this household, thank you.

i wish i could share your excitement for the movie anon, but i just don't have faith in bryan and mike to do justice to the characters (especially zuko and katara) after everything they've said and created over the last decade. like really, calling zuko a bad boy in the year of our lord 2023? please watch your own show.

besides, nothing they can do for katara in this movie will retcon what they did to her in LOK. i already know she ends up as a sad, lonely housewife without any real power, impact or legacy; that can't be changed, no matter how they try to "fix" it. it looks like the movie has been delayed so my hope is that it just gets cancelled in production. atla has been milked to filth anyway; leave the og characters alone and do something new with the universe, or just let it rest in peace and find another story to tell.

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#17: The Danger (1.02)

gif cred: @chaoticroad

In the final scenes of episode 2, we're given a glimpse of the various things that will complicate Rick and Michonn'es journey home. Richonne will have a lot of threats pointed their way, and yet it's clear who the danger will really be. Because among these concluding scenes, Ms. Dana really climbs up a platform and looks out at the CRM base like - if you ever find me and my husband in a fight with the most powerful military on the planet...help the military 💅🏽😌...

So that lovely scene between the vehicles ends with Rick and Michonne exiting separately as Rick walks out first and then Michonne. I’m sure having to part right now is no easy task for these magnets.

When Rick walked out and put on his helmet I was like Rick, remember to take a little bit of that pep out of your step lol. Cuz he’s supposed to just be scowly downtrodden Sergeant Major Grimes to the CRM, but you know he was feeling like a new man after his wife gave him life and a fresh dose of strength in that garage.

Michonne watches Rick go, likely enjoying that walk, and then she closes the door and has a subtle expression of determination on her face as she walks off. And Michonne's energy just feels like she's ready to go toe to toe with the CRM for everything they've done to her husband, her friends, and herself.

They show a video playing from Michonne’s interview as she looks right into the camera.

gif cred: @nerd4music

We just see the shoulder of a CRM member watching the video, and you already know that means trifling garbage lady Jadis has entered the chat to complicate things as she always does. 😒

And y'all, I don't care how many years it's been since I last saw that serpent on my screen, I still loathe Jadis with a passion...

Then Michonne is again walking around the CRM and A-ing it up just with her looks and walk alone.

The way Michonne is moving and observing, she looks like she should be the one the CRM answers to not Beale lol. Like she truly exudes leader vibes. (Side note: I saw people saying if Okafor had met Michonne he’d be trying to convince Michonne, the A above all As, to be his right hand in his plan and I agree 😁) 

Intercut between this is Jadis 'No Boundaries' Stokes entering Rick’s apartment and pouring herself a drink which...she tried it.

And then we cut back to Michonne and she's climbing up on a platform to get a good scope of the place.

Seeing Michonne climb on top of that thing I was like...

Cuz aren’t we supposed to be lying low and yet you’re now climbing up on that platform, skin all radiant and glowing and very likely to attract attention cuz like why is a new consignee just doing her own thing up here??? 😅

Listen, I support it cuz I will always support Michonne but I just knew she was about to have Rick stressed. One thing about Michonne is she gon' be an A. It just is what it is. 👌🏽😇

gif cred: @nerd4music

And she really does look stunning standing up on that post as she gets a better view of exactly what she’s dealing with. Michonne takes it all in with a look of fierce determination on her face, knowing that the CRM should be scared cuz they have hurt one too many people, especially people she cares about dearly, and now they gotta answer for it.

It was smart storytelling to give Michonne personal reasons to be beefing with the CRM on top of her issues with them for what they've done to Rick.

And I love how this scene is a reminder that part of what makes Richonne's love story so distinct is that Rick and Michonne really are lethal lovebirds. So Michonne Grimes is a devoted wife and a determined mother, and she's also real deadly when she wants to be. And the CRM is bound to learn that soon enough.

gif cred: @richardgrimes

Then I love the shot of her holding Nat's 'Danger' lighter. 👏🏽 And with that running theme of fire, the lighter is very fitting because again sometimes things have to burn and Michonne is not afraid to be the one to burn it down. She’s the danger.

And, I think this further confirms that Michonne and Danger were meant to have parallels as step-parents too. Also, it's just great that she has Nat’s lighter cuz it lets us know she’s going to ensure Nat fully gets his lick back against the CRM.

gif cred: @nerd4music

So after the great shot of Michonne looking like a Queen and then closing the lighter we cut to the Queen of Trash. 🙄 (Side note: while I loathe Jadis I think Pollyanna is a talented actress who has a good presence on screen. Just thought I'd clarify that because from here on out I'm whacking Jadis unabashedly👌🏽) 

Rick returns to his apartment and stops in his tracks when he sees Jadis is inside and has made herself comfortable. I hate how even Rick’s apartment doesn’t get to be a safe space for him because people just barge in at any time. 😑

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Jadis says hi and apologizes for breaking in and then says she’s here cuz this is an investigation but one that she wants to keep off the books. She tells him, “Let’s continue to keep certain things between you and me as we have.” 

And then because I think Jadis might combust if she doesn’t try someone every two seconds she shows she still enjoys making Rick uncomfortable by coming on to him when she says, “It’s been awhile. You look good.” And while Jadis is very correct about that it’s still trifling as hell and Rick is so over it as he responds by looking away and rolling his eyes.

I love how Rick genuinely only responds well to flirtatiousness and acknowledgment of his looks from Michonne and Michonne alone. I once saw someone say Rick is a michonnesexual and y'all...

So then Jadis marvels at how truly amazing it is that Michonne found Rick. When she says “She found you.” that’s when Rick’s face looks shaken as he realizes Jadis knows Michonne is here.

Then Jadis, who in her own weird twisted way is like one of the biggest believers in Richonne, says, “If anyone could she could.” It's good that Jadis is at least putting some respect on Michonne’s name here with that very accurate statement, even tho she’s still ticking me off.

But it is true - if anyone was gonna find Rick even despite him being trapped in a hidden city, it would be his soulmate.

Rick steps further into the apartment and reacts like he’s ready to end Jadis right here and now. Jadis reveals she knows what really happened in the forest and that the sword was Michonne’s meaning she’s the one who slit up those soldiers. Rick looks down as he listens and realizes that for the umpteenth time, Jadis is screwing up his plans. 😪

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Jadis says she’s keeping the knowledge she has off the books and just storing it in her twisted bowl-cut head. She tells Rick, “This doesn’t fall under our long-standing deal.” And then knowing full well that Michonne probably has revitalized Rick to feel like he and her can finally break free Jadis says, “You have to know that if you try to escape with her I will make sure that all those people that you love die - including a few that I like very much.”

Just when I thought I couldn’t root for Jadis' demise any harder than I already was she says this. 😑 Had me watching like...

Rick reacts to the threat with worry in his eyes as he approaches and Jadis stands up to tell Rick, “You have to know that. I’m certain that you do.” And it’s sad seeing Rick have to be pulled right back into the CRM’s propaganda that they are impossible to overcome. Jadis says she’s had to do worse things and her hands are already covered in blood so they can't get any bloodier.

Then she says she has a question to ask Rick. She apologizes for the language she's about to use and then calls back to the odd way she used to speak when she and Rick first met in season 7 when she says, “But you’ve heard a lot of language from me, yes yes yes?” Ooh that ticked me off off off y’all, cuz she’s so smug as she shatters Rick’s hope of getting him and Michonne out of here. 😡

Jadis smiles and then drops the smile as she sternly asks what Rick is doing and Rick just stares at her silently, clearly thinking “Not today, not tomorrow…

And that concludes episode 2 of TOWL. Another great episode that I thoroughly enjoyed. 👏🏽

After years of waiting for that Richonne reunion moment, it was perfection. And this ep made it ultra-clear that TOWL was about to just spoil us rotten because, in the very episode where they reunited, Richonne then has a scene between those vehicles that for me I enjoyed even more, after already adoring the initial reunion. Just gold on gold on gold. 🤩 And we still were just in the front half of the series.

It’s so fitting that Danai got praise from the media for her performance this ep cuz she knocked it out of the park conveying every emotion with such powerful sincerity. Her and Andy’s ability to bring Michonne and Rick to life is truly something special and every minute of their first scenes together as non-dream Richonne was excellent. They made it clear these two's love was still so magnetically alive and blazing. 🙌🏽😍

gif cred: @msanonships

As we now entered the middle of the miniseries - with trifling Jadis added to the mix you just knew things were only going to get more complicated. Especially because her arrival and threats usher in a very different Rick than the one who was convinced he and Michonne could get away together.

No, now Rick’s sole focus is on getting Michonne out of here alive even if it means without him. And well...we’ll see exactly how a certain Dana Bethune feels about that. 😅

During the first two riveting episodes of TOWL, Richonne spent a good chunk of it apart. From here on out they're together, but also have a lot to navigate to truly feel back together. There's a ton to unpack in these next eps, so y'all with these upcoming breakdowns...

Because TOWL's act two has everything. Humor, heartbreak, hunger, a helicopter hurl...

And most importantly, these next two episodes have a whole lot of Richonne gold. 😌👌🏽

[howler-moon]

Caitlyn Arcan.......

I'm currently dying of the flu all that's keeping me alive is thinking about arcane because my head hurts if I look at bright colours for too long or listen to anything with more than three syllables. (Update after writing I genuinely don't understand my original point for writing this im so out of it but its too much to not post now so i think i just wanted to info dump about caitlyn because i NEED ACT THREE I NEED IT NOW PLEASE PLEASE PLEAE PLEAS)

Anyway I do believe some people are missing that its not just Cassandra's death that is motivating Caitlyn to make the worst possible decisions known to man, although it is the thing that tips the scale for her. All this started way back in S1 E4 when Jinx went to steal the Hextech research. While Caitlyn was on duty she blew up a building as a distraction, killing 6 of her colleagues and almost herself according to Jayce. This incident alone already seemed to shake her up as she spent the majority of her time recovering absolutely obsessing over the case and who the culprit is (Vi herself says "and I thought Power could get obsessed" upon seeing her research she was LOCKED IN). Branching off from this, this incident also almost cost Caitlyn her job, something she has fought tooth and nail for against her mother's wishes and barely gets any respect in the field despite being like the only Enforcer who was good or even cared about her job (RIP Grayson). Say what you will about the Enforcers whether you don't care or despise what they stand for but you can't deny how important that job is to Caitlyn. Its her main source of independence ("she'd do anything to keep me from seeing the real world") and being forced to work behind a desk because of Jinx's attack would absolutely destroy her.

Skipping ahead to episode 9 we all know about the shower scene.......That shit is mad scary like hello?? It's like a direct parallel to the attack where she first met her as well. The smoke/steam clears and Caitlyn just looks up in dread to see Jinx's art sprawled across the wall. Except this time, instead of being some unfamiliar symbol out in the open, she knows what it means. She knows who it belongs to and that person is inside her home. In her bathroom no less, while she was brooding in the shower lmao. She genuinely could not be any more vulnerable in this situation and now she has been kidnapped and brought to some Mad Hatter esque tea party in some dingy run down factory in the middle of no where with the Silco and Vi causally tied up beside her. She's absolutely terrified too she flinches and begs Vi to the best of her ability not to shoot her, only for Jinx to go and threaten to do it instead. Keep in mind Caitlyn probably has no idea why Jinx wants her dead. Like she might have some idea but not to the level that the audience does simply because she is not informed by the humble dramatic irony. When she finally does break free Jinx ever so causally beats the shit out of her in the blink of an eye and of course to top it off once she wakes up again she's watching a nuke fly straight to her mother's exact location.

I don't think I need to explain why her mother dying would upset her. That was a massive blow (wayheyhey), and dramatically worsens the obsession we saw in S1. But the memorial.........guys think of the memorial........... Now let it be known to the court that this part was Ambessa's doing. Ambessa was the one who organised the attack on the memorial, but Cait doesn't know that. She wouldn't have taken Ambessa's offer if she did. To Caitlyn this is another thing Jinx has done, another attack directly on her for no reason other than to be cruel. To rub it in her face. Gassing the streets and engaging in police brutality is NOT the way to go trust me I was just as appalled as everyone at the start of S2 E3 like genuinely hand over my mouth saying "thats a war crime" to the screen over and over like she would hear me, but it did not come out of nowhere for no reason (whether good or bad). Caitlyn voices her frustration of "why is peace always the justification for violence" but she probably believes violence is a justification for violence considering her reactions to the memorial and Warwick's attack on Stillwater. She's not one to lead with violence but she will follow with it if properly provoked, and my god have people been provoking her. The time she shot Sevika, her initial hostility when captured by the Firelight's, up until The Grey, Cait has only responded violently when someone acted violently towards her/Vi. She only starts acting out first after the memorial but she still believes it's in response to what Jinx has done to her, even when it's people who have nothing to do with her. I think Ambessa further trains this response into her with their little spars as seen in S2 E6. When Huck jumpscares Caitlyn in S1 E6, she does pull her gun out on him yeah I'll give you that, but she doesn't do anything to him. It's more of a warning or means to defend herself as Vi is bleeding out on the floor behind her in this dingy little hole full of Shimmer addicts and she does talk it out with him. Whereas as season later in S2 E6, as soon as she sees Vi she does not hesitate she goes STRAIGHT for the kill, jumps down and fucking body slams her before even realizing who she was.

Anyway yeah I'm becoming ill again my point is, like every character in the show everything Cait has done has been building up since day one. It's not good that shes doing anything to get revenge but when you look at it from her perspective its like damn girl what did she do. Yes she's in a privileged position yes she works for the police but she's still human dawg how would you react to the situations she has been in. Mel is literally feeding into government corruption yall didn't care when she told Jayce to lay off with the Hex gate restrictions to keep the rich people happy and yall still love her (I love her too).

The parallels between Jinx and Cait go absolutely crazy they're both the same and on opposite sides of the spectrum at the same time. I understand why people prefer her more so than Cait, she's more of the underdog we've known her since she was a child and the majority of the things that happened to her happened when she was very young which makes it more tragic I am not denying that she is as relatable as a terrorist can get I love Jinx<333 Jinx my pookie Jinx my beloved <333 But I also love Caitlyn because she's silly and a girlfailure. My point is that I find it so weird that the Arcane fandom can hate a character for doing something bad and refuse to see their side of things when literally every character has done something bad if not worse and their side they have no trouble seeing/accepting. Except Ekko, Ekko genuinely has done nothing wrong in his life I've never met an Ekko hater in my life and if they exist I don't believe you.

If you're wondering what my opinion is on Jayce its that I appreciate what he adds to the story but I would hate to have a conversation with him. Not because I hate him but because I'm on my period right now and he would act like it's a cancer diagnosis

please dont hurnt me

[agent-troi]

great points on Diana. I can't quite figure out what I think about her narrative yet. I didn't like when she first appeared because she came across and part of a suspicious character, and her appeal was very unappealing. When Gibson is ready to disclose who Mulder is thinking about, oh boy does she want to know to stop up the pot. She's aggressive but in a frozen manner. What I mean by that is her facial expressions seem frozen, her voice is almost stilted, and her eyes lack the dance that we see in Scully' and Mulder's. I also don't know what to think about her because she didn't get a real conclusion. We are told that she is killed, but was she? Maybe she is just reassigned to do something else. I wanted to see the closure or some actual redemption of her alliance with CSM.

With that being said, when do you think Mulder figured out that Diana was lying to him and couldn't be trusted? Was it the night that he went to her apartment or when he was in his mind-reading, psychosis state? AND, do you think that during the Diana period, after work or on the weekends, Mulder and Diana had some flings or some sort of relationship?

Did Mulder choose Scully or did he get Scully by default because Diana was removed from the equation?

diana was soooo underutilized. i had vaguely heard of her before i reached her part of the story and i was expecting this big, huge, MSR-shattering deal, and then she was hardly ever on screen. i get that the actress wasn't available very often, but then don't try to make a love triangle if she's only going to be in five episodes and the rest of the time it's like she doesn't even exist.

frozen is a perfect word to describe her. she's just so insincere so much of the time. everything is a performance, tailored specifically to get mulder on her side. she's basically a more subtle version of phoebe imo; manipulative, but in a way that can slide under the radar if you're not looking for it (which mulder isn't; he wants to believe she wants the best for him).

i'm so annoyed that she was killed off-screen lmao. this show brought back jeffrey spender after we saw him get shot, brought back csm after he was literally blown up in a fiery explosion, but we don't even see diana die and she never comes back?? i'm suspicious...

(btw if you're looking for fics where she wasn't actually killed in amor fati, Gaslight by @sisterspooky1013 and Pause by @cecilysass are two of the best imo, and if you're looking for a redemption story/something that actually fleshes out her character a bit more, I recommend The Whole Truth by @admiralty-xfd and The Only Answer by me lmao)

as for when mulder finally figured out he couldn't trust her, he absolutely knew it when she went to see him in the hospital and he could read her mind. there's no way he doesn't know at that point. when he went to her apartment, he was at the very least open to the possibility that she had betrayed him. he wouldn't have gone in the first place if he really thought there couldn't be anything to it. but then csm shows up and somehow that doesn't raise a big red flag so i don't think he really got it then. it's not clear at the end of one son if mulder and the others believe that diana was among those killed at the air force base, and since she never appears or is mentioned between one son and biogenesis, we don't know at what point mulder finds out she somehow survived. depending on the circumstances of his finding out, it might have raised suspicions in his mind, which were then confirmed by the mind-reading.

my answer to the question of whether mulder and diana had any flings during this period is abso-fucking-lutely not, and not just because i personally can't stand the idea. the only time i can really see it happening is when she first shows up in the season 5 finale, but there's just no time for anything like that to happen during that episode. beyond that point, mulder starts off season 6 annoyed at diana for taking over the x-files behind his back, but then scully pulls the rug out from under him at the opr hearing after he pretty much made a fool of himself declaring confidently that she was about to prove the virus was alien, so he takes diana's side in that episode out of sheer petulance. after that he's too busy chasing "vicious, long-clawed spacelings" to be bothered to have any flings, but then at the end of the episode, scully finally comes through with evidence of alien dna in the human genome. it's too late to take back the way he embarrassed himself at the opr hearing, but it begins to put them back on the same page. and then during the period when they're off the x-files, mulder's digging through the trash in their old office to find x-files for him and scully to investigate instead of just asking diana to sneak some files out of the office for him, which i can't imagine him not doing if they're having any kind of relationship. also he’s clearly never been to diana’s apartment before one son.

this whole season is about mulder and scully dancing around the idea of being together, which is something mulder wants but is afraid to express directly, not knowing that's precisely what scully needs to hear. i just can't see him choosing to be with diana except maybe for when he's still disoriented by her sudden reappearance, and there wasn't room in the timeline of the episode for that to happen.

@randomfoggytiger broke down the progression of mulder and scully's relationship during season 6 very well, and i have nothing to add except that yes, mulder chose scully, this whole season is about mulder choosing scully, learning to appreciate her and to express that appreciation the way she wants him to. diana really is irrelevant in the end.

[lichanicksstuff]

I just thought it would be hilarious if comic! Sandman characters would exist in the world where the show also exist. Imagine Hob inviting Dream for a movie marathon.

(There will be some comic spoilers, you've been warned).

In this universe, Dream met Neil Gaiman and inspired him to create a series like this, so nobody will ever know the truth about the Endless. It's pretty clever even for a Matthew's idea.

The thing is: Dream (Daniel; treat him like a second incarnation. Like with the Doctor, since Daniel has all of Dream's memories, powers, etc. But he is softer than Morpheus. It's simmilar to Doctor's incarnations - same person, a bit different personality) did not expect was his human friend to ask him to watch 6th episode together because it's an episode with both of them! Hob knows about the idea of "the sandman", since Dream visits him in his dreams once in a few months. When they first met in person it was very hard for Hob to explain to his girlfriend how his friend who was dead is now alive and well. That's how Daniel became a lost twin brother of "that friend" who Hob somehow knows because yes it makes perfect sense, and no, Hob isn't making this up (his girlfriend does NOT believe him, but she goes with it. She even gave Daniel a cup of tea, made in a kettle. Hob is so sensitive about it as a British guy). But today, his beautiful girlfriend was out with her friends so they could watch without her asking why is the character named just like him.

"It will be fun!" Hob said, sitting down on his couch and handing Dream over some popcorn. Dream knows, more or less, what he should be expecting because it was him who gave the ideas and was present (in the minds of the writers) during production. In the end, Dream agreed and they both started watching.

Hob was very suprised when he saw the actor who plays Morpheus. In some ways he does look very simmilar to the original incarnation but there's something more... human, about him. (Well, maybe because he's a human.) Dream's real face has some weird glow to it that makes him very memorable when he wants to be remembered but also easy to forget if he doesn't. And also his eyes are not normal. Two deep lakes reflecting a night sky. No pupils. Charming but also horrifying, if you ask Hob. Privately. In a dark room. When he's so wasted he would be dead if he could die.

But when he saw the guy who is him on the screen, he gasped.

"He's not ginger!" He yelled and Dream almost choked on his wine, "I'm telling you, mate, they have something to gingers in hollywood. Every bloody character who has red hair somewhere, doesn't have them in the show."

"Hob, you're a person, not a character." Dream corrected him like his friend wasn't just starting a monologue on the topic of red-haired people in movies and TV shows.

"He is pretty good-looking, though," Hob admitted after a longer minute of talking.

"Certainly looks better than you," Dream said and drunk his wine. Hob laughed and this ended the conversation for a moment.

They had been watching for like ten minutes, commenting the clothing, suited to a particular time when suddnely, at the 1789 scene Hob asked:

"Why are they eye-fucking each other the whole time?"

Dream looked at him with a sign of pure disbelief in his non-pupil eyes. Hob just shrugged asking a very impolite "what?" Which Dream decided to ignore.

But then at the 1889 scene, a situation that Hob still remembers and how scared he was he will be mortal from now on, Hob started yelling at the screen:

"Come on Hobbie, get your man!"

"Hob, this is supposed to be you."

"Well, I'm sorry I got invested." he said fussily.

In the end, Hob was very happy with the results of this episode, even if it wasn't really accurate. Dream, on the other hand, drank much more wine than he was planning to.

(And Matthew was laughing in crow the whole time.)

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Y'know, if Lila was just a one-off character for Volpina and we never saw her again, a few tweaks in that episodes writing could have made it a good lesson about not letting your temper get the best of you, even in a situation where your anger is justified

This is in reference to the post where I discussed how terrible Volpina's lesson is and I agree with the proposed change. If Marinette has to be in the wrong here, that's the only way to make it kind of work. In fact, this is what I thought the episode was trying to do on my first watch. When the next season started with Lila gone, I thought, "Okay, so that episode was supposed to be about being the better person and having a more measured response when you've been wronged. I don't think it did that lesson super well, but I can see what they were going for and we'll give them some grace. Definitely one that I wouldn't just give to a kid, though. Way too high a risk of them internalizing a very wrong message."

I only gave the writers that grace because I assumed that Ladybug had truly humiliated Lila out of Paris off screen (remember, we only see Ladybug out Lila to Adrien even though Lila was lying to everyone) and that is a pretty extreme punishment for a teenager making a dumb choice. Even then, saying that Ladybug was in the wrong feels a little too victim blame-y for my tastes. Lila was the one telling the lies and using Ladybug's name for clout on a city-wide scale or possibly even a national/international scale depending on the Ladyblog's viewership. By telling those lies, Lila was harming Alya's credibility and presenting herself as a sort of authority on Ladybug, a position that she was going to use to her advantage as we saw with her manipulating Adrien. She was also putting herself at risk if Gabriel or other villains believed the lies and saw her as a way to get to Ladybug.

That means that the lies Lila told aren't exactly minor, victimless crimes like the lies Marinette and Adrien tell to hide their identities. Lilia's lies needed to be outed on the same scale that they were broadcast and there's no kind way to do that. It's going to have a brutal edge no matter how pretty the words are.

There are times when it's right to be "the better person" and let a thing go, but it's hard to view this as one of them because this was not a nuanced situation. There was no reasonable option other than issuing a public retraction and Ladybug didn't even go that far! She had a single, private confrontation with Lila and then let the matter rest. A better version of this episode might see Alya and Marinette giving a really mean retraction on the Ladyblog that they then feel bad about because they should have been more professional, but that's about it as far as possible improvements go.

If we look at what the episode actually gave us, it feels like another Gamer situation. An episode that blames Marinette for impure motivations while ignoring anyone else's faults, creating a nonsense moral that just makes me mad. Ladybug-is-wrong-for-confronting-the-liar-for-impure-reasons is certainly a take. It's just not one that I'm ever going to agree with. To give a recent, real-world example, do people really feel that James Somerton was the wronged party because his many, many lies and instances of plagiarism were outed in a brutal public takedown? (Context part 1 & part 2, though part 2 is the one to watch if you only want to see why letting lies from respected sources go unchecked can be so messy.)

To be clear, I don't think that Lila's lies were Somerton bad in Volpina, but they were starting to go down that road and they arguably reached Somerton levels by season five. Fakes identities, almost getting Marinette expelled, using her lies to get social power from Gabriel, the list goes on, which is yet another reason to hate Volpina. Its nonsense moral is a big part of why Lila could do all of that. Ladybug should have outed Lila! Society suffered and will continue to suffer because she didn't. That's why you have to stop misinformation as soon as you possibly can, but that wasn't actually the moral of Volpina. The moral was that Ladybug was in the wrong for being mean to the liar. Maybe if she'd been nicer, then Lila wouldn't be so evil now which is a very gross moral! Volpina really does feel even more victim blame-y now that Lila is the new big bad.

That's a good segue to circle back and finish off my original topic: I gave the writers grace for Volpina until Lila returned and established that she'd never been publicly outed. At that point, Volpina lost any chance at me giving it charity. The lesson was worse than I thought and I was fully justified in hating it. It's one of the ones I use when I explain why I wouldn't want a child getting into Miraculous because the problem with Volpina's moral is pretty straightforward.

[plague-karm]

Right time to analyse this shit because god dammit I have been silently making theories about this show the second I saw the premise I’m about to become the most annoying person on the planet on god so LETS GOOOOOOO-

First things first the animation looks fucking phenomenal (let Kevin Temmer cook, that man can do no wrong). Also Caine the guy ever, he is the silly and I love him wholeheartedly, he’s just a fucked up little guy who’s living his best life fr.

And also NEW CHARACTER HELLO.

They do be circling though.

THE SILLIES ARE HERE LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOO 🎉🎉🎉

Smiling Gangle spotted ten seconds before disaster, no thoughts head empty indeed.

ALSO I WASN’T EXPECTING STUFF OUTSIDE THE CIRCUS BUT IT’S A WELCOME SURPRISE WHOA

They have come to steal your credit card information.

The thoughts I had of Ragatha being the lone brain cell keeping everything together were completely correct I CALLED IT- (it has been said by Gooseworx that she has been there the second longest so she’s probably gotten used to the zaniness by now…maybe)

A door that leads to a void?

Maybe it has something to do with this room in the teaser trailer? Possibly.

Tumblr sexyman spotted.

''If there was a way to leave I'm sure we'd have all left by now''

They're ✨suffering✨

This caught me off guard when I first saw it lmao (holy FUCK I love Zooble's design, they're everything to me).

''Welcome to your new home...AND your new body...''

So they're aware that they were human before they entered the circus? That's interesting considering what happens in a few seconds (I'll get to that soon). It's also worth mentioning that Gooseworx has stated that their clothes ARE a part of their bodies.

Case in point...

At the end of the character introduction compilation Gooseworx posted to their YouTube channel Pomni is heard saying something along the lines of

''How do I...take this...headset off?!''

I saw a few people theorizing about her talking about a VR headset and that was how she entered the circus to begin with (I had the same thoughts until very recently). However, considering how much of the visuals and character designs are based on old media (also a teaser image was set up as the menu screen for a retro game), I'm beginning to think that this isn't the case.

So it's incredibly likely that Pomni is actually talking about her jester headpiece since she can't take it off.

This scene is probably the first time Pomni sees her new body, pinwheel eyes and all.

''I'm fine with whatever, as long as I get to see funny things happen to people''

I love him he's so unbothered.

I'm sad that we didn't get to hear any dialogue from them but I can't wait to see them in the pilot! Kinger is love, Kinger is life.

''After a while you start to realise that you really can't leave, and constantly chasing an unattainable goal will start driving you a little crazy''

She's a little fucked up actually wow who saw that coming.

It sounds like Ragatha tried to leave a few times and just resigned to her fate after a while, her description DID say that she was the ''sweetest little optimist in the digital circus'', so maybe she's told the others that escaping is impossible and that they should make the best of their situation instead? (Also the framed picture of the right looks like some kind of void, a lot of void imagery here).

Also, Gooseworx released this image a short while ago and it has the same background that Ragatha had while she was talking so she's DEFINITELY talking to Pomni here.

''OH GOD! WHY CAN'T I REMEMBER MY NAME?!''

EXCUSE ME? Okay time for some more speculation. I knew that their names definitely weren't their real ones but I wasn't expecting them to forget them!

Now, since the premise is said to be centred around Pomni and the others getting messed with by AI and their traumas, maybe instead of forgetting what their names were, they actually REPRESSED their memories from when they were human due to the trauma they went through? (Which would include their names)

I don't buy that they've COMPLETELY forgotten who they were (Zooble is aware that the body they're in isn't the one they used to have so I'm guessing everyone else knows that too.)

I'm guessing that their human lives absolutely SUCKED and they've now repressed their trauma to the point where they can barely remember who they were in the human world, this is just speculation.

''Thank goodness this is all a dream, right Pomni?''

What a sassy little guy (it's so weird hearing Michael Kovach sound so reserved, he's normally feral as hell playing these kinds of characters). The little mannequin symbol on the door is probably there for when new people stumble into the circus.

She's definitely seen some shit, I wonder what it could be though?

OH MY GOD THERE'S MORE OF THEM 😭

Wow this background looks...oddly normal. The only thing I can think of this being is Pomni witnessing a flashback of her human life before she showed up in the circus.

''You completely lose sight of who you are and why you're even alive and when you reach your breaking point something REALLY terrible can happen''

OH? Okay speculation time again. This is the closest hint we've gotten to what exactly one of the gang's traumas could be. Ragatha may have forced herself to stay positive in really shitty situations during her human life which likely lead to a lot of negative thoughts which eventually lead to her doing...something, I'm not sure what though, maybe it lead to her losing an eye? (Maybe her new body represents that?) I'm not sure. Maybe this is why she's been in the circus for as long as she has, instead of dealing with her feelings and existentialism, she instead continues to try to be someone who's more adjusted than they actually are.

Again, this is all just speculation, maybe it's just an Infinity Train type of thing where they can't leave until they learn to accept what they went through and how to work through it healthily idk.

WHAT THE HELL IS THAT? Well, I'll tell you what I think it is.

I think it's this weird tar like tentacle thing from the teaser trailer, I don't see what else it could be.

And I'm 90% sure that whatever it is, it's connected to this room, and I think that THIS is gonna be where we'll be seeing what the gangs traumas are (Ragatha looked TERRIFIED when she was grabbed so if this was the case I wouldn't be surprised). I'd also like to speculate that this could possibly be another AI. There's Caine, Bubble, and whatever the hell those little shape creatures are, so it's very likely that other AI does exist, we just haven't seen them yet.

But who knows? I'm probably looking too much into it.

Woah new background, he is angy.

I would go into another theory I have about how their designs may hint at what trauma they have but I've spent over an hour writing, compiling trailer screenshots, and speculating every individual frame while suffering with chest pains I wanna go to bed

Holy shit that took WAY longer than I thought it would. I cannot WAIT to watch the pilot, this show has become one of my most anticipated projects of the year over the last few months and I can't wait to see what it has in store.

TL;DR: The trailer looks fire 10/10 can't wait for the inevitable Pomni plushes.