#spanish miniseries

[myokk]

My January Reading List

This year I really want to get back into the habit of devouring good books and reading like crazy again!♥️♥️♥️ Normally every year, I read at least 30 books, and tbh I’m quite sad I didn’t read as much last year🥲 I ALSO want to highlight some of the amazing fics I’m reading as well bc there is so much talent out there😭♥️

FICS:

When We’re Older by @writing-intheundercroft 🫶🫶🫶 this is the first fic I’ve had the pleasure of reading in this fandom and IT IS SO SO SO INCREDIBLE !!! The way she’s written Sebastian is just spot-on and I’m afraid that Theo has stolen my heart♥️ I’m the slowest reader when I leave comments, so I haven’t quite finished yet but I’m savoring every last chapter that’s left to me🫶

The Call of the Void by @sloanesallow ANOTHER delightful fic !!! I find myself smiling SO much at their banter & how she’s characterized Sebastián. And SIOBHAN. SLOANE. AAÑDLCKJDJFKSKD I LOVE HER!!!!! The writing is just SO good & I love how all of the scenes in-between game events are fleshed out and imagined🫶

ALL OF @jackalope-patronus oneshots and writing🫠🫠🫠 delicious amazing writing and she just GETS IT !!!! Her way of writing beautiful scenes and emotions is just *chef’s kiss* I’m also such a sucker for things being peripd accurate (my main fandom is pride and prejudice/jane austen) & she fills that void in my heart♥️

@diamjem just started posting her writing here, but I already love it so much🥹🥹🥹 the sweetest romance/fluff/pining and I was smiling SO MUCH as I read it♥️♥️♥️

Untouchable by PhantomFish on AO3. I LOVE Tomione (I just love moral greyness and manipulation🤭) & this was like a hidden gem I just happened to stumble upon. I LOVE her characterizations of everyone and the whole premise and writing is SO GOOD🫠 I also love horror & this fic does NOT shy away from the visceral, which I love !!! It gives me confidence that my own fic with Eloise bc I also don’t shy away from the horror in it or sanitize what happens. This fic really makes my brain buzz with trying to figure out where it’s going and I love thst♥️

BOOKS:

I only read The Last Picture Show by Larry McMurtry this month. He is my favorite author for a reason!!!!! I genuinely don’t think I could recommend this book to anyone I don’t actually talk with regularly (😆) BUT I am completely blown away by him and his writing. Within a few paragraphs he manages to perfectly convey a person and how they are, and all of the characters of this book are moving into my mind for a while. Alkgjdjsjfjsjdhfjdjshs I have gone on so many rants about his writing and how amazing he is, Lonesome Dove is my favorite novel for a reason, and I’m sure when I finish the last few chapters of The Last Picture Show, it will be up there among my favorite books too, I think♥️

Ok that’s all♥️♥️♥️ I HIGHLY RECOMMEND ALLLLLLLLLLLLL OF THESE AMAZING CREATORS AND THEIR WORKS!!!♥️♥️♥️

[thehotelpod]

¡Bienvenidos! Soy el Botones, antes de llevarle a su habitación quiero darle un mensaje de Travis Mcmaster, el creador de este Hotel. 

Él y todos nosotros estamos felices de que nos visite y se hospede aquí. En cada episodio conocerá una a una las habitaciones de este misterioso lugar y sus visitantes.

Esperamos que disfrute su estancia. No olvide suscribirse y seguirnos en twitter e instagram estamos como @Hotelenespanol.

Ah y recuerde que siempre puede ser parte de nuestros huéspedes exclusivos y ayudarnos a construir nuevas habitaciónes a través de patreon.com/theHotel

Escucha Hotel en español en Apple Podcasts, Spotify, o donde quiera que escuches podcasts. 

Siguenos en Twitter e instagram: @Hotelenespañol

Apoya el podcast ingresando a patreon.com/TheHotel

Hotelen español begins! Our original 16 season 1 episodes reproduced in Spanish starting April 10!

Find it on Apple Podcast, Spotify, or where ever podcasts are sold.

Starring Ginette Zavala as the Manager, Alex Villalobos as the Lobby Boy, and Edgar Cañas as the Owner

Produced by Guillermo Ruiz De Santiago

Hotel en español Twitter

Hotel en español Instagram

Support the show on Patreon

Find official Hotel en español artist Parasitic Saint on Twitter and Instagram

I am obsessed with Parasitic Saint's pieces for this show.

[theghostofwilburtheworm]

i love adventure time so much it literally makes me sick

[flemingology]

V is very, very extraordinary ─ alexia putellas x reader

part 3 of my l-o-v-e miniseries. full masterlist here!

in which: you always held back from being intimate with Alexia, but when you confess about your past all she wants is to show you is how much better she can be

warnings: relatively vague mentions about a past toxic relationship, very soft very fluffy smut (18+), fingering (R receiving), oral (R receiving), dirty talk, language, yk all the good stuff

wc: 8k

an: not proofread, bc i had to slave away to get this done in time. but enjoy the filth, my dudes

The evening had been easy, the kind of night that made your chest feel full in the best way. Alexia had insisted on cooking dinner for you, even though she’d just come back from a grueling training session. She claimed it relaxed her, but you knew it was mostly her way of showing love without words.

The apartment smelled faintly of garlic and fresh herbs, remnants of the pasta she’d made. You’d stayed by her side as she cooked, sipping wine and laughing at her exaggerated frustration whenever she dropped something or couldn’t find the right utensil. It was quiet and intimate, a reminder of how good things were between you.

After dinner, the two of you had migrated to the couch. You’d leaned into her side, her arm draped over your shoulders as some show played in the background. You weren’t really watching it. Your attention was mostly on her, on the way she absentmindedly traced circles on your arm, on the way her lips quirked up whenever you made a teasing comment.

The hours passed in a blur, the city outside fading into the background as you got lost in eachother. It wasn’t until she stretched and mumbled something about heading up to bed that the mood shifted.

Now, standing against the closed door of your bedroom, you were all too aware of how close she was. Her hands slid to your waist as she murmured something in Spanish you didn’t quite catch, her voice low and full of intent. “Hmm?” You managed to ask, your breath hitching as her lips brushed the shell of your ear. “I said you’re too tempting for your own good,” she murmured, her hands sliding under your shirt, the warmth of her palms a stark contrast to the cool air of the bedroom. She pulled you closer, her hips flush against yours as her lips found the exposed skin of your neck.

You exhaled shakily, your hands finding their way to her shoulders as she murmured your name against your skin. “You’re so beautiful,” she mumbled, getting out the words in between kisses against your neck. Her lips moved lower, and her hands started roaming with more intent. She was steady but unhurried, her movements deliberate. You felt the tension in your body unfurl, the sheer presence of her overwhelming you in the best way possible.

But then it hit; a cold and sharp flash of doubt. Your heart skipped a beat, and not in a good way, your mind replaying images of your past.

“Alexia…”, you said softly, your voice wavering, your hands moving to still hers.

She froze instantly, her brow furrowing as she leant back just enough to look at you. The sight of her was almost enough to bring your walls back down. Her hair was tousled, her lips were kiss-swollen and her eyes held a hazy expression, but you were in your own head too much to turn the situation around. “What’s wrong?” She asked, her voice laced with concern.

You hated that you made her feel like this was about her. You hated the concerned frown on her face, the way her eyes scanned all over your face, the way you knew she thought she was at fault. She wasn’t. But you didn’t quite know how to tell her everything just yet.

You stepped back a little, the sudden space between the two of you feeling like both a relief and a loss, and you hated the way your mind was playing tricks on you. “I- I don’t know,” you stammered, hating the tears that were prickling in your eyes. “I just… I can’t, Ale.”

The shift in her was immediate. Every ounce of lust and hunger got lost on her, her hands dropping to her sides as she searched your face. “You can’t, or you don’t want to?” She inquired, her voice gentle and far from judgemental. She was too good for you.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you said quickly, guilt curling in your stomach. “I do. I really, really do, baby. But it’s just-” you swallowed hard, debating on what to tell her. What you feel comfortable telling her, what your mind will allow you to tell her. “I can’t.”

She tentatively stepped closer again, and you saw a sense of relief wash over her when you let her come closer. “I would never push you into something you’re not ready for. We can take all the time you need. I just need you to tell me what’s going in here.” She tapped lightly against your temple, her tone warm and coaxing, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly as you kept your gaze to the floor. “Don’t be sorry, por favor,” she said back, pressing a firm kiss against your forehead and tilting your head back up. If she saw how glossy your eyes were from the unshed tears, she didn’t mention it. And you were grateful for that. She took your hand and led you to the bathroom, where you both got ready for the night, in comfortable silence. The thoughts were running rampant through your mind, ones that had been plaguing you ever since the start of your relationship. But for now, you were going to put them aside. Until the next time they came up.

You got into bed together, Alexia pulling the duvet over both of you. She didn’t waste a second in pulling you close to her, your chest pressed flush against hers as you nuzzled your face into the crook of her neck. She wrapped her arms tightly around you, as if she was trying to shield you from the negative thoughts swirling around your mind. “We’re okay, mi amor. I promise.” She mumbled against the side of your head, pressing a lingering kiss against your temple. 

You nodded against her chest, your breaths evening out as her fingers traced light patterns along your back. The tension in your body slowly ebbed away, and soon, your steady breathing told her you’d drifted off to sleep. But Alexia stayed awake.

She stared at the ceiling, her mind swirling with thoughts she didn’t want to entertain. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. One moment, you’d be there with her, completely present, and the next, you’d pull away as though intimacy with her was too much to bear. She didn’t blame you. She didn’t even think to question your feelings for her. But that didn’t stop the doubts from creeping in.

She tightened her hold on you instinctively, her heart aching with the desire to protect you from whatever was haunting you and from the fear that maybe she wasn’t enough to help you through it.

“Te quiero,” she whispered softly into your hair, her voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. She pressed a kiss to your crown, hoping that her love would somehow seep into your dreams, even if she couldn’t ease your worries while you were awake.

-

And as much as your girlfriend remained patient, being perfect as always, the situation had to get out of hand one day. And it did, a couple weeks later.

It started with a quiet evening at home, the kind you’d both grown to treasure. The dinner you had cooked still lingered on the table, half-eaten, as the two of you had found yourselves pressed against the kitchen counter, her lips trailing down your neck with an urgency that sent shivers down your spine.

You knew she wasn’t pushing for more. She’d told you multiple times that she would never force you into something she knew you weren’t ready for, she was just being affectionate. Close, really close, but a good kind of close. You had made out countless times, it had gotten quite steamy relatively often, but every time you found yourselves at the edge of the cliff you so desperately wanted to jump down off, to let yourself fall into the deep end where you knew Alexia would be to catch you, the part of your mind that you buried away deep down always seemed to bubble back up again. 

Now, with her hands on your hips and her body pressed flush against yours, heat pooled low in your stomach as you felt the edge of the counter dig into your back. Alexia’s kisses were firm, desperate, her fingers toying with the hem of your shirt like she was seconds away from discarding it entirely. But as much as your body responded to her, the familiar wave of panic bubbled up.

“Alexia, wait,” you managed, your hands coming to rest on her shoulders. Her movements stilled instantly, her forehead dropping to rest against yours as she caught her breath. “What is it?” she asked, her voice quieter now but laced with a tension that hadn’t been there before. You closed your eyes and bit your lip, sensing that this whole situation was getting to her. You hesitated, trying to put words to the swirling emotions inside you, but Alexia’s hands slipped away from your body entirely, her expression guarded.

“This again,” she murmured, stepping back slightly and running a hand through her hair. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked softly, but you knew what she meant.

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “It means that every time we get close, you pull away. I don’t push because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but…” She trailed off, her jaw tightening. “But what?” you prompted. You knew what she was pointing at, but you wanted to hear it from herself.

“But it’s getting harder to pretend it doesn’t bother me,” she admitted, her voice wavering just slightly. “I love you, and I’d wait forever if that’s what you needed. But you don’t talk to me about it, and I don’t know how to help you.” Her words hit you like a train. “I’m sorry, Ale, I-”

“You’re always sorry.” You knew this was coming your way. There was only so much time until eventually she would snap, and even though she wasn’t being unreasonable with you, it still hurt you. But could you really blame her?

“But ‘sorry’ doesn’t tell me why. It doesn’t tell me what’s wrong or how we can fix it. I’m trying so hard to be patient, but I’m…” She hesitated, then looked away. “I’m only human. And I want you. I want us to have this.” Her words stung, not because they were unkind but because they were true. You couldn’t blame her for feeling frustrated, couldn’t fault her for wanting what any couple would naturally have, especially after the period of time you’d been together. It’s been four months now, and even though Alexia reassured you that it’s a completely normal time frame to not have been intimate with one another yet, the only reason why it hadn’t happened yet were your insecurities. 

“I know,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know, and it’s not you. It’s not you at all. I just…” You swallowed hard, the weight of everything you’d been carrying pressing down on your chest. “I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t want to ruin us.” Alexia’s expression softened, her arms dropping to her sides as she stepped closer again. You hated how easily she gave in, you wanted her to be annoyed at you, at the situation, because she had every right to be. But you couldn’t deny her when she was being so caring. Her hands found yours, squeezing gently. “Ruin us? How could this ruin us?”

“Because I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice breaking slightly. “I’ve… I’ve felt like this before, and it didn’t end well. And I know you’re not them, Alexia, I know that. But my brain… it’s hard to convince it sometimes.”

She exhaled slowly, pulling you into a hug that you didn’t know you needed until you felt her warmth surround you. “I wish you’d told me sooner,” she murmured, her lips brushing the top of your head. “You don’t have to carry that alone.”

The two of you stayed there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the earlier tension fading but not disappearing entirely. It wasn’t fixed. Far from it, but at least now, the wall between you had started to crack.

You figured that it was time to tell her. You felt comfortable with her, and as much as your past was weighing you down, weighing down on your relationship, you had started feeling like opening up about it in the last couple weeks. You were certain that Alexia wouldn’t judge you, and if anything she deserved an explanation. Because the last thing you wanted was her kicking herself over something that was entirely out of her hands.

Alexia’s embrace felt like a shield, her steady heartbeat grounding you in a way your own mind couldn’t. But the weight of your confession lingered in the air between you, heavy and unspoken. She didn’t push you for more, not yet, though her quiet presence urged you to keep going. Her hand moved soothingly up and down your back, patient, as though she knew the words would come when you were ready. And they did. Slowly, at first. But then the dam broke, and you couldn’t stop.

It wasn’t about Alexia. God, how could it ever be about perfect, caring Alexia. You could feel her body untense when you told her that. It was about the way someone before her had made you feel like intimacy wasn’t a shared experience, but something they took. About the nights you’d spent questioning if they’d loved you at all or just the idea of you. About how you’d told yourself it wasn’t that bad, that you were just being overly sensitive, until one day, you couldn’t bear the thought of anyone touching you in that way again.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want Alexia. God, the way your body responded to her touches gave away more than enough to let both her and yourself know that you wanted this. Desperately. But that want was tangled up with fear, the kind that gnawed at you and told you that you might wake up one day and that she would look at you differently, just like the one before her did. That maybe letting her have this part of you would somehow shift what you had, that it would finally convince Alexia that you weren’t what she wanted. It was an insecurity that had been steady all the way throughout your relationship, and as much as your girlfriend tried to work it away, it remained persistent. She quieted it down, sure, but it would never leave.

The more you spoke, the more memories you buried so deeply rose to the surface. The way your ex would ignore your no’s, brushing them off like they were playful instead of firm. The times they’d made you feel inadequate, like your hesitations were inconveniences on their path to getting what they wanted, never batting an eye at what you wanted, or better said not wanted. How, by the end you’d felt less like a partner and more like a thing to be used.

It took you ages to leave the relationship, but when you finally mustered up the courage to leave one night, you told yourself you’d never let anyone in that easily anymore. And even though Alexia had never made you feel like she would do any of the things other people had done to you in the past, your insecurities had been holding you back. But you were ready to put them to the side, to clear everything out between the two of you and to give yourself to her in a way that would make you completely hers.

You couldn’t meet Alexia’s gaze as you finished, the silence between you now deafening. You were still in her arms, the two of you not having moved from your position in the kitchen. You held your head buried against her chest the entire time while you spoke, your arms tightening around her figure the more you revealed, as if you were scared she was gonna walk away at any point. But then her hand cupped your cheek, guiding your face to hers. Her eyes, soft and glistening with unshed tears, held nothing but love.

“Thank you so much for telling me, mi amor,” she whispered, her thumb gently brushing over your cheek. “I’m so incredibly sorry you had to go through that. I don’t know what to say, but I do know that you didn’t deserve any of that. You are so worthy of love. You’re worthy of feeling loved, and not feel like you’re being used for your body. I promise, bebé, I’m not like them. I would never take this from you, it’s something that we share. Together. Whenever you’re ready.”

Her words soothed the ache in your chest a little, and you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude for the woman who was holding you close to her. You had just poured your heart out, and she managed to say exactly the right thing to make sure you felt listened to. You didn’t feel like you overshared, your girlfriend deserved to know this. And she didn’t say much, but she said exactly the right things. And you couldn’t have wished for much more than that.

You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. “I just didn’t want to ruin us,” you murmured. “You could never ruin us,” she said firmly, pressing a tender kiss against your crown. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could be completely open with her. And even though you weren’t ready just yet, you felt the lingering insecurities ebbing away with each second that the Spaniard held you in her arms.

-

And the night it eventually happened, confirmed even further that this woman was the love of your life.

An easy Saturday night. You had cooked for Alexia after what had been a grueling week at work, seemingly everyone wanted a piece of your Spaniard during the week and you could tell that it had started to weigh on her by the time the weekend arrived. So you swapped your planned Saturday night dinner date at a new restaurant around the block for a night in, cooking one of her favorite recipes and swaying to music together in the kitchen while the scent of your cooking invaded your senses.

Conversation had been light and easy, as it always was with her. You lit some candles on the table and put on some music in the background, the soft tinge of jazz a perfect element to the comfortable air that hung between the two of you.

Now, you were curled up together on the couch, her arm draped lazily over your shoulders, pulling you close. The movie on the screen was one you’d both seen a dozen times before, but neither of you had been paying much attention. Her fingers traced idle patterns on your arm, her touch warm and familiar.

Alexia had been different since that night. Softer, if that was even possible. She never pressed, never pushed. Her touches remained comforting rather than lingering, and she’d never once brought up what you’d told her. Not directly, anyway. But tonight felt different. Not particularly for her, but for you.

You weren’t sure if it was the way her hand lingered a little longer on the small of your back when she’d kissed you earlier, or how her eyes softened whenever they met yours, like she was drinking you in. Maybe it was the wine you’d shared over dinner. Or maybe it was simply that you were ready.

You leaned into her touch a little more, your lips grazing her jaw in a way that you knew would get to her. She responded with a soft hum, turning her head to capture your lips in a kiss. It was sweet, unhurried, but you could feel the restraint in it, how she always held back just enough, careful not to push you too far. Her apprehension had tripled down ever since your moment in the kitchen a couple weeks ago, though. She was always careful of not pushing too far, but now she’d outright refrained from it. And you tried your best not to be frustrated by it, because God, she was doing it for you. She wanted to take things at your pace, but you’d been feeling on edge the past couple of days and you knew what the reason was. And as much as you were sure about yourself, you didn’t quite know how to initiate things with her.

You deepened the kiss, letting your fingers trail along the line of her jaw, and her breath hitched. It was enough to make your heart race, but even as her hand slid to your waist, you could feel her hesitating. "Alexia," you murmured against her lips, your voice softer than you’d intended. She pulled back just enough to look at you, her brows knitting in that way they always did when she was worried. “Am I- do you want me to stop?” There it was again. The hesitation. The fear of doing something that would send you three steps back. 

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I-” You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. It was now or never. Her hand rested against your cheek, grounding you. “You can tell me,” she said softly. Sweet, sweet Alexia.

You took a deep breath, your fingers clutching the fabric of her shirt. “I want to. Tonight,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to have sex with you.”

You didn’t mean for it to come out so blunt. But if you didn’t get the words out there at that moment, you felt like they were going to suffocate you whole. You were ready, and you wanted her to know. Dignity be damned.

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, she looked like she hadn’t heard you. But then her expression softened, her lips curving into a gentle smile. “Are you sure?” she asked, the slight lilt in her voice doing nothing to hide her excitement. You nodded, leaning into her touch. “I’m sure. I want to be with you.”

Alexia didn’t move right away. She just held your gaze, searching your eyes as if she was trying to memorize every detail of this moment. When she finally leaned in to kiss you again, it was slower, deeper, and filled with an overwhelming tenderness that made your heart ache. She pulled you closer, her hands skimming over your back as if she was afraid to let go. And for the first time, you didn’t hesitate to let her.

Her lips moved against yours in a way that felt brand new. It wasn’t though, it was a comfortable reassurance in the midst of what you knew was going to be a long night of new experiences, but every touch felt new, felt like you were discovering a new part of her that had stayed hidden underneath your projection of your insecurities. Her hands then cradled your face, thumbs brushing softly along your cheeks as though she wanted to make sure you felt cherished, loved and completely in control. She wasn’t rushing, and you knew she wasn’t going to at all. 

When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her breath warm and steady. “Are you okay?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. You nodded, your heart racing. “I’m okay,” you murmured, your fingers curling into the baby hairs that escaped her bun at the back of her neck. “Are you?”

She smiled, a small, crooked thing that made your chest feel tight. “Yeah,” she said, her voice a little uneven. “Just… trying to believe this is really happening.” Your cheeks flushed at her words, but you didn’t look away. “It is,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I want this, Alexia. I want you.”

Something flickered in her eyes. Relief, perhaps, or maybe disbelief, and she kissed you again, slower this time. It wasn’t rushed or hurried, even though you could feel the months of tension between you, bubbling just beneath the surface. She stood, pulling you up with her, her hands never leaving your waist as she guided you toward the bedroom. You followed her, your fingers laced with hers, and it felt like everything else fell away, the world outside, the doubts, the fears. It was just you and her, together.

Inside the bedroom, the atmosphere felt different. The silent urge that her actions were laced with on the couch made place for something softer, if that was even possible. Alexia turned to face you, her hands finding your waist again as she pulled you close. “We don’t have to rush,” she said, her voice gentle. “We can stop anytime, baby, I-”. “I don’t want to stop,” you interrupted, surprising even yourself with how firm your voice sounded. “I’m ready, my love.”

Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but instead, she just nodded, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.” You could tell there was a storm raging behind her eyes, and you wished you could do anything at all to quell the worrying thoughts she had. But in the end, you knew that tonight would settle so many of them.

Her hands moved to the hem of your shirt, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. She hesitated, waiting for your permission, and when you nodded, she carefully lifted the fabric over your head. Her hands skimmed along your sides, warm and steady, as if she was trying to reassure you with her touch.

“Dios mio, you’re so beautiful. I don’t tell you enough.” You chuckled, because that was probably the furthest thing from the truth she’d ever said. “So multiple times a day isn’t enough for you?” Her eyes met yours and you could see the playfulness in them, secretly grateful for how light the moment was. You were well aware of how much of yourself you were giving away to her, but she steadied you. As she always did. “Shut up. Let me love you.” She accentuated her words with a firm kiss against your lips, which you readily reciprocated.

You reached for her too, your fingers trailing along her shoulders before slipping beneath the fabric of her shirt. “I want this off,” you murmured against her lips. A shiver trailed down Alexia’s spine, due to the excitement of the moment or the feeling of your fingertips on her body, she didn’t know. But she slipped her shirt off with practiced ease, and you couldn’t help but admire the toned body that you’d grown to love so much over the past couple months. There had been times where it would make you insecure, insecure about the fact that you didn’t look like that. You weren’t athletic, you didn’t train as consistently and as hard as she did, but she didn’t mind. You were perfect to her, and she would take her time again and again to meticulously work away all those worries and insecurities and wouldn’t go to bed before she made sure that you were okay.

Now, though, it’s a piece of her that you shamelessly adored. Because, let’s be real, there’s everything to love about a body like your girlfriend’s. You let your eyes trail over her toned upper body, before lightly tracing a freshly manicured finger over her abs. You heard a sharp intake of a breath coming from the woman standing across you, and you couldn’t help the smirk that grew on your face at the sound. If there was anything Alexia was taking with her from that night, it was her newfound love for the feeling of your nails raking over her muscles there. 

When the two of you finally sank onto the bed, her lips found yours again, and this time, the kiss was deeper, more urgent. Months of restraint melted away in the heat of her touch, but even in the passion, there was a softness to it, a tenderness that reminded you of why you had fallen for her in the first place.

“Tell me if you need to stop,” she murmured against your lips, her voice low and filled with emotion. “I will,” you promised, your hands sliding into her hair as you pulled her closer.

For the first time, you felt completely safe. There was no sense of pressure, no fear of being used or discarded. Alexia’s patience wrapped around you like a cocoon, and you relaxed under her touch in a way you didn’t know was possible.

Her thumb traced slow circles against your hip as her lips trailed from the corner of your mouth to the delicate skin of your jaw, leaving soft, lingering kisses as she went. Her hands, warm and steady rested on your waist. She moved lower, testing the waters by pressing a few open-mouthed kisses against your neck, to which your breath hitched in response. She paused for a moment, her breath hot against your neck, and you felt her smile against your skin. “You’re so easy to fluster.” Her lips pressed against the sensitive spot right beneath your ear, earning a sharp inhale from you. “And you make such cute noises. It’s not fair how much I love it.”

Your hands found their way to her shoulders, clutching at her as a nervous laugh escaped you. "Alexia, stop," you said, though your voice lacked any real conviction. It was a combination of words she’d heard so many times in the past couple of months, but she knew you didn’t mean it in that way this time. Her heart ached as her thoughts quickly trailed off to how much you two had grown in your relationship.

"Stop what?" she asked innocently, pulling back to meet your eyes. Her fingers slid a little higher, brushing over your ribs, her touch impossibly soft. "I’m just kissing you. Nothing else." Her grin widened as she caught the way you bit your lip to suppress any sound that was threatening to escape at the feeling of her fingers on your skin. "But you’re so responsive, cariño," she said, her voice dipping into a playful lilt. "I can’t help myself."

You wanted to retort, to say something clever, but the way her lips found yours again, soft and lingering, shut you up in the best way. "You can tell me to stop," she whispered against your lips, her hands sliding back to your waist to anchor you against her. "But I don’t think you want me to, do you?"

Alexia’s hands started to explore more purposefully, her fingers grazing the curve of your hips and rubbing softly up and down your thighs as she pressed a string of soft kisses to your collarbone. Her touch was warm, comforting, and yet electric all at once. You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you as her lips brushed a particularly ticklish spot near your shoulder.

“What’s funny?” she asked, pulling back just enough to look at you, her brow arched in playful curiosity .“Nothing,” you lied, biting your lip to stifle another giggle. “It just… tickles a little. ”Alexia smirked, her expression mischievous now. “Ticklish, huh?” she teased, dipping her head to nuzzle against your neck, her lips and breath sending shivers down your spine. “Alexia, no-” you protested through your laughter, squirming slightly beneath her. “That’s not fair!”

She laughed with you, the sound warm and contagious, before leaning up to meet your eyes again. Her expression softened instantly, the laughter fading into something much more tender. “I love this,” she whispered, her thumb brushing the side of your face. “Hearing you laugh like this, seeing you so… at ease. It’s perfect.”

As her hands wandered again, Alexia shifted her weight slightly and started moving down your body, only to accidentally knock the bedside lamp with her elbow. The soft thud of the lamp wobbling broke the moment, and the two of you froze for a second before dissolving into quiet laughter.

“Smooth,” you teased, shaking your head as you reached out to steady the lamp. You loved the way her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. “Not my finest moment,” she admitted with a sheepish grin. The laughter and lightness of the moment faded when she returned to the task at hand, moving down your body and pressing lingering kisses against every sliver of skin she could find. Your chest, stomach, arms, your girlfriend didn’t leave a spot untouched and you felt overwhelmed in the best way possible. You thought you knew what it felt like to be loved, but all of that went out of the window as soon as you met Alexia. She made you feel like you were the only girl in the world, and that feeling increased by tenfold in this moment. The way she looked at you, the way she held you, spoke to you, the way she tenderly explored your body with soft touches, nothing in the world would ever compare to the way you felt when her body hovered over yours. 

She eventually settled between your legs, resting her head on one of your thighs and gazing up at you, tracing soft circles all over the thigh her head wasn’t resting on. She looked at you with a softness in her gaze that made your heart ache, in disbelief over how loved she could make you feel through such simple actions. Her hand shifted slightly upwards, fingers trailing over your hips and lightly starting to fiddle with the waistband of your underwear. She asked the unspoken question with her eyes, knowing well enough that you knew what she meant. You bit your lip and nodded, a little apprehensive but not enough to let that stop you. Alexia sat up on her knees and carefully started taking off your underwear, keeping her eyes trained on yours. She searched your face for any discomfort as she slid the garment down your legs, discarding it somewhere in the room to clean up tomorrow. 

You felt bare then, besides the obvious fact that you were bare. But it didn’t scare you like it would’ve before, had this happened earlier. You felt  comfortable, her presence was grounding you in the most perfect way and you trusted her with this, trusted her with your body. “You look incredible, mi amor. Honestly, you’re so beautiful.” You hadn’t noticed she finally allowed herself to take your body in, letting her eyes rake over every part of your naked figure as if she was getting to know it all over again.

Your cheeks turned a subtle shade of red at her words, and you couldn’t help the small smile that crept up your lips as she spoke. She returned it with one of her own, before making her way up your body again and pressing kisses all over your face. She was doing a perfect job at balancing the intensity and lightheartedness of the moment, and if you ever wondered how she could ever become more perfect, this moment in the bedroom together was the proof of that.

But the air shifted then, and you knew she wanted to know how serious she was about how you were about to give yourself to her. She pressed a couple more lingering kisses against your lips and whispered some soft reassurances before she moved back down again, laying down between your legs and making herself comfortable.

“Mi vida, if you don’t like something, or if anything hurts, or if you just want to stop, tell me. I won’t be mad, angry or disappointed, okay? Tonight is about you, bebé, and I want you to feel good. Just guide me, hmm? Tell me what you like and don’t like. I’ll try my best to make you feel as comfortable as possible.”

Her words wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, and settled the tiny bundle of nerves that had started bubbling up ever since she moved down your body again. You nodded, but Alexia raised her eyebrows in response and you realized she wasn’t gonna settle for just a nod. “Yes, baby, I know. Thank you. I love you so much.” She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath, as if she was letting your words seep through her. Then eventually, she dipped her head down and started pressing kisses against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

It wasn’t long until your hands found her hair, tangling themselves there to ground yourself whilst Alexia was working her way up to where you wanted her most. You were aching for her, truly. You’d had your insecurities that had been holding you back, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t sexually frustrated from being around the hottest woman you’d ever laid eyes on for months and not doing anything that remotely soothed any ache that came up.

“You’re so wet, baby,” Alexia started, and you let out an embarrassingly needy whimper as she blew a bit of air toward your wet folds. “Dripping. All for me, huh?” You didn’t manage anything more than a hum, your thoughts way too clouded with the prospect of what was about to happen to muster up anything more than that. Alexia hooked her arms underneath your thighs and you instinctively spread them a little further, allowing her more space to work with. 

She started slowly, but no matter how slow she would’ve started, you would’ve been a goner anyway. She pressed a couple soft kisses against your folds, not in any way close to where you actually wanted her, but it felt like months of sexual frustration were crashing down on you the moment you felt her mouth near your core.

“Ale, please, I need you.” Despite your pact with yourself that you’d let her do what she wanted to you, to let her take her time and just let it wash over you, you felt like you were going to combust if you didn’t have her mouth on you at this moment. You could hear a slight chuckle coming from the woman between your legs but before you could feel embarrassed at your neediness, you felt her warm mouth envelop your sensitive bud of nerves that sat proudly atop your folds. You let out a guttural moan at the feeling, and even though she wasn’t really doing anything, you already felt way too close to the edge.

“Fuck, baby, I won’t last long,” you said, thinking it was only decent to warn her. “Don’t worry, mi amor, we have all night,” she mumbled against you, the vibrations of her voice sending more jolts of pleasure all throughout your body. Alexia buried herself a little deeper, her mouth dipping down and licking through your folds, her nose bumping your clit. It was overwhelming, it was too much, but you couldn’t get enough. She squeezed your thighs every now and then, a silent reminder that she was there, that this was real and that you were okay.

It wasn’t long until you came undone for the first time that night. All it took was your girlfriend to expertly suck and flick her tongue a couple times over your clit, and you were completely at her mercy. You tugged at her hair as you felt the coil in your belly snap, arching your back off the bed and letting out a loud moan of her name with it. Your thighs locked around her head, but she remained steady, her tongue working you through your orgasm perfectly, slowing down when it faded so you didn’t get overstimulated.

And if you weren’t crazy about her yet, the sight you were met with when she emerged from between your thighs had you falling for her in a completely different way. Her hair was tousled, her cheeks a little red from the effort and her chin was slightly wet, testament of how your juices had coated her mere moments ago. She had a goofy, proud smile on her face and you would move heaven and earth to have it plastered on there forever. “C’mere,” you mumbled, making grabby hands at her. She hovered over you, and you pulled her down into a firm kiss, one in which you tried to pour all your appreciation for her into. “You’re amazing,” you mumbled against her lips. “You haven’t seen anything yet, mi amor,” she murmured when she pulled away, a playful glint in her eyes and her tone teasing. You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched as she slid down your body again.

It felt different now, you were more aware of what she was doing, less lost in your own pleasure. She didn’t tease you like she did the first time, but instead started sliding two of her fingers through your folds, gathering some arousal and then teasing your cunt. “Do you want me there?” She asked in a low voice, looking at you through her eyelashes before fixing her gaze on your pussy again. She was mesmerized, the way you were absolutely dripping for her and she could see your cunt trying to suck her fingers in as she teased your hole. “Please, but be gentle,” you mumbled, almost embarrassed at the way your voice sounded. “Of course, baby,” she reassured, leaning down and pressing a couple soft kisses against one of your thighs that were locked around her waist.

She didn’t waste much more time then, gathering a little more arousal with her fingers before slowly pushing her middle finger in. She went slow, careful, just like she’d promised you. The stretch was painful, but the longer she was inside of you, the more the pain transferred into pleasure. “You can try to move, baby,” You said, and that was all Alexia needed to get down to business. She slowly pulled her finger back, not rushing anything at all, before filling you up again. It felt good, being filled by her, although you knew you were able to take more, and you wanted more. “Another one,” you said in a soft voice, and you thought she didn’t catch it.

But she did, because suddenly you felt her pull out, only to add a second finger and slide inside you again. The stretch was good this time, less painful, and you quickly adjusted to the width and girth of her fingers. She started moving a little quicker, finding a set rhythm and she was working you closer and closer to the edge. “Look at me,” she said, and when you didn’t comply immediately she squeezed your thigh, to which you opened your eyes and locked eyes with hers. “I wanna see your face when you cum, por favor,” she asked, and who were you to deny her when she seemed so desperate? So she picked up her pace, and kept her eyes trained on yours, studying every expression you made as she pleasured you. The slight frown etched on your forehead, the way your mouth fell open in an ‘o’ whenever a particularly good thrust of her fingers took your breath away, the way you bit your lip when you were trying to be mindful about the sinful noises that left your mouth. Suddenly the last couple months had all been worth it. The sight of you, bare, beneath her was one she would never get tired of, and she didn’t know if she would ever be able to go without it again.

The increased volume of your moans is what pulled her out of her thoughts, your face telling her that you were growing closer to your peak. She picked up the pace a little bit more, careful not to hurt you, and to add to the pleasure she started using her mouth too. She took your clit in her mouth, lightly sucking on it to try and push you over the edge. She heard the sound of one of your hands clenching the sheets, and your other hand was tugging at her hair so deliciously. She was drunk on you, lost in your pleasure, so determined to make you feel better than you’d ever felt. So when your thighs clenched around her head and your back arched off the bed, she didn’t stop.

She didn’t stop until all that was leaving your mouth were high-pitched moans, teetering on the edge of overstimulation, but you loved the combination of pleasure and pain that was coursing through you as she kept pumping her fingers in and out of you, her pace not faltering even when you came down from your orgasm.

You threw your head back, knowing that she wanted to coax another out of you, and your brain had to turned to absolute mush at her mercy. She slid her unoccupied hand up your body, searching for yours and intertwining your fingers, trying to ground you with the touch. “One more, mi amor, one more, for me, please,” Alexia was begging. Begging for you to cum again, for you to give her one more. She was working her fingers in and out of you at an insane pace, and even if you wanted to give her a response, you wouldn’t have been able to. The words caught in your throat, a guttural moan coming out instead as she slightly nibbled on your clit. The feeling was overwhelming, and before you had even registered what was happening, your third orgasm of the night washed over you.

You screamed her name, no longer minding how loud you were being. But the feeling of pleasure quickly turned into one of overstimulation, and you pressed a hand against Alexia’s crown to push her away from your core. She looked up, frown etched onto her face, cheeks a little puffy and breathing heavy. “You okay?” She managed to ask, and you nodded, “Yeah, yeah, so okay, just too much.”

You tried to relax, laying your head down against the pillows and trying to control your breath whilst Alexia quickly left her spot between your legs, dipping away into the bathroom before returning with a warm washcloth. She cleaned you up, and for some reason that action felt more intimate than anything you’d just done prior to that. She discarded it in the laundry and made her way back over to you, a smug smile playing on her lips as you climbed next to you in bed. You curled into her, nuzzling your head into her chest and grounding yourself as you listened to your heartbeat. A comfortable silence stretched across the two of you, Alexia playing with your hair as you pressed soft kisses against her sternum. “Thank you,” she eventually whispered.

You lifted your head, searching for her eyes despite the dark room. “For what?” You frowned. “For trusting me with this. Trusting me with you and your body. It means the world to me, and I hope that you felt comfortable throughout.” You felt some tears well up, but you blinked them away before they could fall, not wanting to give your girlfriend a wrong impression of how you felt. “God, Ale, you’re incredible. Thank you for taking such good care of me. I-” you took a deep breath, pressing a soft kiss against her nose before speaking further. “I couldn’t have wished for anyone better than you to do this with. Thank you. You’re incredible and I love you so much.”

She smiled at that, and captured your lips in a dizzying kiss. “Are you okay?” She asked, pulling away slightly. “Better than okay. Honestly.” The two of you stayed like that for what felt like hours, tangled in each other’s arms. Alexia had well and truly managed to top any of the expectations you’d set, and suddenly it felt like second nature. Being here with her, your naked bodies pressed together, everything just felt right. Your insecurities worked away, Alexia the new reality that you were more than happy to get used to.

[deergravity]

Seeing as my internal rewards system has moved on to 'trans fiction' from 'queer horror audio drama podcast' I thought I should do a little roundup of everything I listened to the past few months.

A rough ranking:

Malevolent. Just squeaking into the top spot here based on 1) technical prowess (iykyk) 2) compelling characters and story and 3) they are my blorbos your honor!!! Mind boggling that Harlan Guthrie has so much chemistry with himself.

The Silt Verses. Only topped by Malevolent bc season 1 is not as polished, but it really doesn't matter. Top tier characters, amazing worldbuilding, intricate plotting and it had something to SAY about the casual violence of systems, the nature of hope, the complexity of being human in a world that tries to make us inhuman. Also, it doesn't rely on some thin recording contrivance (a framing device that has its place) and instead truly takes the mantle of audio drama without apology.

The White Vault. On the topic of framing devices, TWV has a very cool take on found footage recordings. A group of [researchers/archeologists] are sent to investigate a remote site in [Svalbard/Patagonia] and the podcast is structured as a documentarian presenting the notes, recordings and diary entries in a reconstructed timeline. My favorite element is that many of the characters don't make their notes in English, so the segments will often open with the VA speaking German, Spanish, Mandarin, Icelandic, Russian, etc etc before fading into the translation. There are miniseries between the seasons available on their patreon and they were so worth the $10 I paid to access them for a month. Reveals are slow, but worthwhile, and the mythology built for the show is highly original and intriguing.

Deviser. A one season contained story from Harlan Guthrie of Malevolent. Scifi, psychological, lots of wet awful body horror. If you're a fan of Harlan wimpering into a mic, you'll love this one.

WOE.BEGONE. Long, ongoing, and so so so far from the original premise it's hilarious, I'm ranking this higher than it maybe deserves for two factors 1) the creator and the VAs are clearly having a blast and 2) it's riding the line of taking itself serious despite a premise that invites irony poisoning without becoming too wrapped up in itself. It's fun, I think, that keeps w.bg strong.

The Magnus Archives. Should this be one up? Probably. But everyone bloody well knows tma by this point, it's good, great even! Beyoncé of horror podcasts.

I Am In Eskew. Only knocked down due to the actually godawful sound quality. Truly unsettling stories though (the one with the building architect haunts me) and a surprisingly realistic conclusion. You can see the bones of The Silt Verses here, from the same creative team.

The Magnus Protocol. Everything above this is there due to originality. As a sequel series, TMAGP will always suffer in that measure. However, I like our new cast and I do love an alternate reality. Curious to see where season 2 takes us. I'd like to kill Mr Bonzo in a fire.

The Inexplicables. Another one season story, this time from Rusty Quill, with really fun, flawed characters and no recording framing device!

Wolf 359. Storywise, great! Characters, excellent! Kicking it way to the bottom bc they just would NOT STOP referencing H***y P****r. Yes, Doug's characterization hangs on excessive reference humor, but that was one well I wish they'd left alone.

Red Valley. Knocked for HP references too (come ON british podcasters, do better) but more importantly for veering WAY WAY WAY WAY WAY too close to real life in season 3 onward. I was here for a horror sci fi story about cryogenics, not to listen to my worst climate disaster fears brought to life via hearing rich old sods try to buy their way out of consequences while the world burns and eco terrorism escalates. Too real. Not bad storytelling, just very much not fulfilling my escapism needs.

It's kinda crazy to me that anytime I mention this genre to normies in my life they say, "oh, like true crime podcasts?" And then I die inside. No dude, like radio drama. Like War of the Worlds.

Anyway, I'm off to get even less relatable by reading a zillion niche trans novels (hello Welcome to Dorley Hall, aka, what if there really was a 'trans cult' force femming dudes to undermine their masculinity? It's amazing how much yarn we can make by subverting the cis gaze.)

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Formula One - MiniSeries

(Stories under 20k words)

Riding Shotgun Pairing: boyfriend!Charles Leclerc x fem!reader x ex!Pierre Gasly Summary: A trip away with your boyfriend takes a turn when your ex comes along. Word Count: 3k Part One || Part Two - complete

Shades of Grey Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader Summary: Reader is in a terrible crash and wishes she had the chance to tell Charles how she felt. Word Count: 8k Part One || Two || Three || Four - complete

Wild Nights Pairing: Charles Leclerc x songstress!reader Summary: After getting dumped before your wedding you decide to take your best friend on your honeymoon instead. Word Count: 12k Part One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Epilogue - complete

Another Lie Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: After breaking up, your relationship with Charles turns toxic with neither one really letting go. Word Count: 13.5k One || Two || Three || Four || Five (Charles) || Five (Max) || Blurb Request 5.1 - complete

His Best Man Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader Summary: With your marriage on the rocks you accept Daniel's invitation to the Mebourne GP where the best man at your wedding becomes something more. Word Count: 9k One || Two || Three - complete

305 Pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem!reader Summary: A collection of moments in the 305 - the code for Miami-Dade county where you live with Logan. Word Count: 10k One || Two || Three || Four - complete

Crazy For You Pairing: Dark!Lando Norris x fem!reader Summary: A dark, toxic romance between new neighbours where nothing is as it seems. Word Count: 8.4k Part One (Crazy For you) || Part Two (Crazy For You Too) || Part Three (Crazy For The Three Of Us) || Part Four (Crazy Forever) - complete

Playboy Pairing: Pierre Gasly x fem!reader Summary: You judge a book by its cover but he is determined to prove you wrong. Current Word Count: 10k One || Two || Three || Four - complete

A Night At The Awards Pairing: Max Verstappen x gf!reader Summary: Snapshots from the FIA Prizegiving 2023. Current Word Count: 6k Pre-Gala || The Real Prize || Jealousy || Panties || Captivity || Rocky || Escaping || Thighs || Consequences || A Mile High || New Beginnings - complete

The Best Kept Secret on the Grid Pairing: GR, CL, MV, PG, LH, CS x fem!reader Summary: Reader becomes the coveted prize for the podium winners and the reason things get a little out of hand on the track. Pure smut. Word Count: 13.3k Part One || Part Two (request) || Part Three (request) || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six - complete

Lady in Red Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x fem!reader, Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: When a Spanish Ferrari driver works hard to get your attention it is impossible to keep turning him down, despite his complicated relationship status and empty promises, but maybe all hope is not lost in the Ferrari garage. Word Count: 8.5k One || Two || Three || Four - complete

Your Biggest Fan Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader Summary: In an age of anonymous internet interactions you and Lando connect on OnlyFans where he is your biggest fan in more ways than one. Word Count: 5k One || Two || SMAU || Three - complete

Transcending Time Pairing: Charles Leclerc x princess!reader Summary: Destined to be together, you and Charles’ love transcends time to find one another again and finally get the future you never had - the one with a happy ending. Current Word Count: 7k One || Two || Three - ongoing

Already Gone Pairing: Max Verstappen x spy!fem!reader Summary: You ease yourself into Max's life for a job but find it harder to leave than planned. Current Word Count: 15k One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven - ongoing

The Perfect Life Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: On the outside it appeared you had the perfect life but Charles didn't know the secrets that had been kept from him. In order for him to succeed deals were made with your family and no price was too much to pay. Current Word Count: 19.1k One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight - ongoing

Back to Main F1 Masterlist

[budgies-with-pencils]

A (maybe) Comprehensive List of everything we know about the diner crew visually

I MAY BE MISSING STUFF. If you find anything for me to add comment! :^]

Also this is NOT meant to police anyone's designs. My designs don't follow any of this half the time. I just thought it'd be fun.

DINER CREW:

-Gloria doesn't wear makeup much [Farmhouse]

-Gloria is mexican [Duh]

-Gloria is a “tiny Spanish woman" according to Caspar [Chaos!]

-Ava is "stronger than she looks" [Big, Malevolent Thing]

-Leif has some variety of Facial Hair [Transdimensional Haboob]

-Caspar is white as hell [This is obvious emotionally, but Sheep?]

-The Mucklewains are canonically hot. [Farmhouse]

-The Mucklewains look like an "Alt-Country Duo" according to Gloria [Farmhouse]

-Zebulon does not have a mustache [Welcome to the Horizon (MB, not the miniseries)]

OTHER MAJOR CHARACTERS:

-Clementine has red hair. [several episodes]

-Clementine is, in this universe, the reference for the painting "Woman with Red Hair" by Amadeo Modigliani. This also implies that Terric, at some point, looked like painter Amadeo Modigliani, as he mentions he painted it. [Brunch]

-Ex looks, and I'm quoting directly here, "like some sort of things nerds masturbate to" [Pockets]

-Kazi's eye color changes frequently [Three Sisters]

-Kazi "Has a claw". You apparently don't want to see it. [Three Sisters]

-Kazi white as a ghost" [Three Sisters]

-Teta is incredibly tall, and has large horns [Welcome to the Triad]

-Libusa is "older than she looks" [Three Sisters]

-Libusa is bright yellow [Three Sisters]

YOUNG LEIF:

-BertBert is not a fish [Segius]

-BertBert does not have bangs [Interludes: Vela]

-BertBert has a "muscular Frame" according to Leif. [Nancy]

-Bertbert is blue [Welcome to the Triad]

-Verge looks mostly human apart from "Two Things" (one thing likely being the arms.) [The Wayfaring Stranger]

-Verge has a tattoo on their arm of all the bounty hunters they've killed. As of this episode, it has four lines [Escape from Moog]

-Verge has an extra set of arms they keep hidden [Welcome to the Triad]

[atopvisenyashill]

if westeros ever advances to the modern age with film and television, what asoiaf characters would make popular biopic leads in-universe? like, imagine a movie about elia martell being made within the asoiaf universe in the style of sofia coppola's marie antoinette but more depressing and violent.

you can pick characters from the main series or any of the historical eras.

i think robert's rebellion gets the wwii treatment in that there is a movie made about them every 5-10 business days. some of them have really interesting things to say, most of them are not particularly accurate, some of them are just phase 3 marvel esque cashgrabs. but there’s a million. there’s a whole industry.

i think nymeria’s conquest is one of those really long epic movies that randomly gets popular, like Baahubali or lawrence of arabia. aegon’s conquest is NOT popular bc no one can ever do it very well, at best it gets some c list actors and breaks even but doesn’t make a lot. the dance gets the miniseries treatment, like that white queen/spanish queen philippa gregory stuff, where there’s one prolific author and that’s it really. dunk & egg get a series of great mini series, the ones that are half-acted on history channel, that only history channel watchers ever know about.

[cinnamonspicevanilla]

Coquette Brazilian Midia. pt 1.

Hilda Furacão

- The miniseries tells the story of Hilda Furacão (Ana Paula Arósio), the most desired prostitute in the bohemian area of Belo Horizonte in the 1950s. Daughter of a traditional middle-class family, Hilda scandalized Minas Gerais society by breaking with her family and conventions, running away on her wedding day and taking refuge among prostitutes and transexuals. It is told by the point of view of a writer, since his childhood with his friends Malthus (Rodrigo Santoro, a big faunlet inspo btw), a bona fide seminarian, known by the population as The Saint, and Aramel (Thiago Lacerda) an aspiring Hollywood actor trying to learn English.

Their lives change when they see Hilda for the first time and witness her change from a fearless but rich and traditional lady and model, to the most sought after and scandalous prostitute in the entire city.

After being popularized in the city as the most beautiful and popular prostitute, Hilda is accused of being possessed by demons and Malthus decides to try to exorcise her in the Church square, only to discover that he would not be able to resist Hilda's charms, she would become his greatest object of desire and guilt.

This story is full of sensuality, anguish, Catholic guilt and other popular tropes on the community, if you like erotic dramas and thrillers, you will love it, and if you like vintage fashion, you will love it even more. If you are from a Spanish-speaking country you can most likely find the series on the internet, as it was super popular throughout Latin America, and if you speak English, I can make some episodes available via google drive, however the person who subtitles the episodes is translating one at a time, so be patient, maybe the wait will leave you wanting more ;)

I decided to make a series of posts giving recommendations about brazilian coquette/faunlet media, i felt that something about Brazil was missing, im very proud if my country's culture and media and think that it should be spread and appreciated more.

Also, aren't her outfits just so cute?

[draculasfavoritewife]

Azúcar (Capítulo 3)

Summary: So long as you leave all emotional intimacy out of the equation, your relationship with Miguel can be pretty damn near perfect.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!Spider!Reader

Warnings: This miniseries covers a wide range of potential triggers, including heavy sexual tension, bad/nonexistent communication, depression, implied smut, using said smut as coping mechanism, mentions of child death, guilt complex, a tiny bit of emotional manipulation, avoidant attachment style (lookin' at you, Señor O'Hara), and one shameless display of my bite kink, whoops.

Note: I use the shortened version of his name "Mique" in my own writing just because I personally prefer it. Swap it with whatever nickname you prefer in your head :) For my intents and purposes, Reader understands and speaks Spanish.

Lyrics from "Sugar" by Sleep Token

*Spanish translations at the end! (I am fairly bilingual, but if I made a lil mistake here or there do forgive me)

Believe 

That though we never eat

We still know how to feed...

To the outside observer, Miguel O’Hara is usually a highly meticulous, controlled man. Even those within his inner circle know him for his capacity to always be mentally one step ahead, rarely showing much more emotion than weary annoyance or laser focus. 

A few who have fought beside him for a long time can testify to his more animal side in a struggle, especially when he is fighting tooth and claw to protect everything he has worked for and keep the multiverse from collapsing. 

But none of them will ever fully experience the man who now has you trapped against your refrigerator, unable to escape from his hungry grasp and the tree-trunk thighs on either side of your own legs that effectively prevent you from wriggling away. 

“You sorry yet, Princesa?”

He grins down at your defiant expression, crimson eyes glittering and long canines fully extended now in predatory pleasure. One of the things about you that will always keep Miguel coming back for more is the fact that you stand up to him, no matter what.

He knows full well how intimidating he is, physically and otherwise, yet you can not only take it, but almost seem to thrive on it and push back. 

No one else dares to. 

And he likes it. 

You glare up into his smug face, panting slightly from trying to take the reins back from his crusade on your body.

“No.��� 

He fakes a pout. “Haven’t you had enough yet?” 

That makes you laugh.

Enough of Miguel is something you are never going to have, simple as that. You could spend the rest of your life trying to figure him out, reeling from the punishing force of his intensity or wondering where he is for days on end when he disappears, and you would still test all his boundaries just like this, if it meant keeping him a constant presence in your life. 

No, you definitely haven’t had enough. 

“Something funny?” he growls. 

Your palms flatten against the fridge door, giving you just enough adhesive to pull yourself up and wrap your legs around his hips. “Just you.” 

“Sassy, aren’t we?” He presses his forehead to yours, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Almost like you’re asking for trouble.” 

As you feel his fingers rake down the backs of your legs, you sigh into his touch and sling your arms around his neck. “Maybe I’ll apologize, if you kiss me again?” 

One large hand is raised to caress your jawline, impossibly softly for its size and the sheer power behind it.

“Bueno, pregúntame, Ángel. Y dime por favor.” 

You groan, but the tips of his claws on the other hand prickle insistently through your leggings, telling you he won’t give in until you do. 

“Fine…please, Miguel?” 

His grin stretches wider, and you almost — almost — wonder what would happen if you just tightened your hold around his hips, if that would wipe that arrogant expression off his gorgeous face.

But that would really be asking for it, and you do still have food on the stove. 

“Please what, Baby?” 

You reach for his face.

“Please kiss me.” 

Bueno, pregúntame, Ángel. Y dime por favor = Well then, ask me, Angel. And say please

(2) (4)

[saiiboat]

if you had to summarize cellbit in one paragraph what would you say .. i see you post so much im intrigued but im not sure if im ready for the deluge of cellbit information you surely have in your head

hi jackieeeee :33 i feel like ive just been given a homework assignment

cellbit is a brazilian game designer, roleplayer, game master, and massive variety streamer who enjoys playing and supporting a lot of indie games and frequently interacts with other devs! hes played a frankly insane amount of different games on stream. like a lot.

^^ a lot

he's also the creator of Ordem Paranormal [link], an insanely popular horror ttrpg, and gms in the ttrpg podcast of the same name ^_^ you can watch that here [link]! hes a super fucking talented gm its kinda crazy. while all of Ordem is in portuguese (with the exception of OPQ which is in english), AOP and OSNF are fully captioned in english and spanish, with OPD having the first few episodes done and more being worked on. his videogame, Enigma do Medo/Enigma of Fear, takes place in the world of Ordem and is coming out this year and he'll probably keep not streaming until it comes out, hence why you're always seeing me go insane saying i miss him. the steam page for the game is here [link] :33

he also acted in Fuga Impossível [link], Tazercraft's 2015 mcrp prison escape miniseries where he played Cell, an awful and violent inmate who antagonized Pac and Mike, as well as in QSMP (vod links here and wiki here) where he played a continuation of Cell's story, although in an alternate universe where Cell cannibalized Pac's leg during the events of Fuga. qcellbit, after escaping prison, a few years of therapy and eventually getting stuck on a shit ass island, is a father, an uncle, a husband, a brother, a friend, and a dork. he's also someone put in a situation where all of the people he loves are in danger and he would do anything, anything to save them, even becoming the person he once was and never truly stopped being. he's a very loving and self-sacrificial character who loves a good mystery perhaps a little too much. he also killed his fiance's abuelo because he was threatening their wedding. important note

[justforbooks]

David Soul, who has died aged 80, stormed to fame in the 1970s as half of the television “buddies” detective duo Starsky and Hutch, who careered across Los Angeles in their red and white Ford Gran Torino, over the roofs and bonnets of other cars, and through piles of cardboard boxes.

“When the Starsky and Hutch series was showing, police on patrol duty were adopting sunglasses and wearing their gloves with the cuffs turned down,” claimed Kenneth Oxford, a British chief constable. “They also started driving like bloody maniacs.” In south London, a council lowered a wall after fans of the tyre-squealing screen action used it as a launchpad to jump on to parked vehicles.

While Paul Michael Glaser played the streetwise, cardigan-wearing, junk food-eating Dave Starsky, Soul’s character, Ken “Hutch” Hutchinson, was the quieter, yoga-loving, healthy-eating one – two cool cops looking after each other as if they were brothers.

Over five series (1975-79), they patrolled a rough area populated by muggers, drug dealers, sex workers and pimps. They also fraternised with Huggy Bear (played by Antonio Fargas), a snazzily dressed, “jive-talking” informant with his own bar.

Soul traded on his newfound stardom to return to his first love, music. He recorded the ballads Don’t Give Up on Us (1976), a No 1 in the US and UK, and Silver Lady (1977), another British chart-topper.

His television career continued, but the starring roles rarely resonated beyond his homeland. An exception was the miniseries World War III (1982), in which he played an American cold war colonel trying to avert a nuclear holocaust. It also chimed with his political and social campaigning, which included supporting the anti-nuclear movement.

He took up the tempting offer to play Rick Blaine in Casablanca (1983), a five-part TV prequel to the film classic, in the role originally played by Humphrey Bogart, but it proved a flop.

Soul found renewed success – particularly on the West End stage – after moving to Britain in the 90s. He even hit the headlines beyond the review pages in the title role of Jerry Springer the Opera (Cambridge theatre, 2004-05), taking over from another American actor, Michael Brandon, as the “shock” talkshow host.

The BBC’s decision to screen Richard Thomas and Stewart Lee’s musical, complete with thousands of swear words, transvestites, tap-dancers dressed as Ku Klux Klan members and a nappy-wearing Jesus, received more than 60,000 complaints from viewers.

Soul simply relished the chance to fulfil his “dream to play in the birthplace of English-speaking theatre” after failing to “cut the mustard” when auditioning on Broadway.

He was born David Solberg in Chicago to June (nee Nelson), a teacher who had also performed as a singer, and Richard Solberg, a Lutheran minister of Norwegian descent. His father’s work as a representative of the Lutheran World Relief organisation during the reconstruction of Germany after the second world war meant the family moved to Berlin in 1949, returning to the US seven years later to live in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, where David attended Washington high school.

He then acted in plays while studying at Augustana College, before moving to Mexico with his family. Influenced by his father’s work, he initially had plans to join the diplomatic service, and learned Spanish and studied Latin American history. He was also taught to play the guitar by Mexican students.

After a year, he hitchhiked to the US, landed a job singing Mexican folk songs at a coffee shop in Minneapolis and set his sights on a career in music. He also gained some acting experience with the city’s Firehouse theatre company.

While talking with friends about the metaphorical masks people wear, he came up with the idea of wearing a real one while performing so that the music stood on its own merits, and billed himself “David Soul, the Covered Man”. The William Morris Agency signed him up after hearing a demo tape, and he soon had bookings. One was in The Merv Griffin Show on TV between 1966 and 1968, when he eventually dispensed with the mask. More significantly, a talent agent spotted his acting potential.

He had a regular role in Here Come the Brides (1968-70), a comedy western series set after the civil war, as Joshua Bolt, one of the brothers running a logging company in a male-dominated Seattle frontier town and importing marriageable women.

A guest star, Karen Carlson, became Soul’s second wife (1968-77), following the dissolution of his first marriage, to Mirriam “Mim” Russeth, in 1966, three years after their wedding.

Soul was then popping up all over American TV in guest roles himself, and had a short run in 1974 as Ted Warrick, the defence lawyer’s assistant, in Owen Marshall, Counselor at Law, before wider fame came in Starsky and Hutch. By then, he was living in an “open” relationship with another actor, Lynne Marta. When he moved on to his third marriage, to Patti (nee Carnel, 1980-86), former wife of the 60s pop idol Bobby Sherman, he hit the headlines for all the wrong reasons.

In 1982, having already struck Patti several times, he returned home drunk one night following a day’s filming on Casablanca – which he correctly feared would bomb – and hit her repeatedly. He was arrested on a charge of misdemeanour battery, but a judge spared him jail on condition that he underwent therapy. Soul admitted to having a violent streak and, although he and Patti were reunited, the marriage was soon over.

He kept working, landing starring roles as Roy Champion in the cattle ranch soap-style drama The Yellow Rose (1983-84), the private eye of the title in the TV movie Harry’s Hong Kong (1987), and “Wes” Grayson, leading an FBI forensics team, in Unsub (1989), but his star was on the wane. Another marriage, to Julia Nickson (1987-1993), also failed, before he had a relationship with the actor-singer Alexa Hamilton.

Soul’s career was revived when in 1995 the theatre producer Bill Kenwright was looking for an American to star in the comedy thriller Catch Me If You Can on tour in Britain. He played Corban, a newlywed whose wife goes missing. There were other tours and Soul was in the West End as Hank in The Dead Monkey (Whitehall, now Trafalgar, theatre, 1998), Chandler Tate in Alan Ayckbourn’s Comic Potential (Lyric, 1999-2000) and Mack in Mack & Mabel (Criterion, 2006).

In between, he had one-off roles on British television, including as a locum surgeon in two episodes of Holby City (2001 and 2002), a Boston detective helping to investigate his wife’s murder in Dalziel and Pascoe (2004) and a criminology lecturer in Inspector Lewis (2012). Soul and Glaser had cameos in the 2004 film spoof Starsky & Hutch, alongside Ben Stiller as Starsky and Owen Wilson as Hutch. In the same year, Soul was granted British citizenship.

He is survived by his fifth wife, Helen (nee Snell), whom he married in 2010, and five sons and a daughter.

🔔 David Soul (David Richard Solberg), actor and singer, born 28 August 1943; died 4 January 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[fictionadventurer]

4 6 and 10 for the book asks? :D

4. Most anticipated book release of the second half of the year

The only new book release I can think of is that Rachel Kovaciny has a book coming out that's a retelling of "The Ugly Duckling" set in a Spanish-California-inspired fantasy realm. And that does sound like a cool concept.

6. Biggest surprise

So I started watching the Vanity Fair miniseries, and I thought it was a uniquely modern creative choice for them to have meta-scenes of the narrator talking to the audience, so I was surpised to find that all of that was directly from the book. In general, I was shocked by the rollicking Wodehouse-turned-up-to-a-thousand tone of the book--everything I'd heard about it made me expect a depressing slog. And then I was surprised by how much I cared about the characters, given how unrelenting the author was in criticizing them.

10. A book that made you happy

Born of Gilded Mountains by Amanda Dykes has this lovely atmosphere of a heightened fairy tale world, where everything that happens is technically possible, but can only happen this way in this story world. It did go too far--not everyone speaks in inspirational metaphors all the time, Amanda, and that treasure hunt was absurdly overcomplicated so by the end I was frustrated with the lost potential of the story--but in general, that atmosphere fit very well with the elements of Old Hollywood that made up parts of the plot, and it was a lovely reading experience.

[victorsantoscomics]

A reminder that there is a mini-series and a graphic novel created by me that you can only find in digital format and choosing your price. Available in English and Spanish. / Un recordatorio de que hay una miniserie y una novela gráfica creados por mi que solo podeis encontrar en digital y al precio que que pongais vosotros. Disponibles en inglés y español. http://panelsyndicate.com/comics/paranoia-killer http://panelsyndicate.com/comics/gingers-revenge

[disasterarea-podcast]

A listener named Tobi was nice enough to give me a head’s-up that Netflix had a five-episode miniseries named “The Endless Night” about the Kiss Nightclub fire in 2013. Which I’ve been tempted to do an episode on, but the book this miniseries was based on isn’t translated into English, or at least not that I can find. I can fumble my way through Spanish and Swedish, but not Portuguese, alas.

I will warn to those who want to watch that the first two episodes deal with the fire and the parents looking for their children, so if that might trigger you, tread lightly.

The Kiss nightclub fire was caused by pyrotechnics set off inside the club which set fire to soundproofing and killed 242 people. If the cause sounds familiar, it’s because it’s the same thing brought down the Station in Rhode Island, and the Lame Horse in Perm, Russia, and Club Colectiv in Bucharest, Romania.

*hits nightclub owners over the head with a rolled-up newspaper*

Stop. Allowing. Pyrotechnics. In. The. Nightclub.

[blackghostm2o]

Lil stupid story time . Pfft, hahaah. (Plus ramblings about the series itself)

So… My fried and I were trying to watch And “Then there were none” or “10 little Indians” she remember watching a rather new movie about it (probably 2017/2018) but we couldn’t find it neither in Italian nor in English (even tho now that I think about it, at least me, it could have been confused this with “Murder at the Oriental Express” which actually came out in 2017).

And, a bit desperate, I was: “Do you know any actors? We could look up their name and we could search it between their movies.” She clearly didn’t (understandable) and was looking at the cast of the 2015 BBC miniseries and slowly read “Charles Dance”. And I repeated the name and then it clicked, the actor that was Erik in the 1990 miniseries! So I was “CHARLES DANCE!?!? YOOOOO!!! I wanted to see something else in which he was in!” And now I was much more eager to see this version of it, heh.

THIS MINISERIES IS REALLY GOOD THO, you should check it out.

SPOILERS AHEAD (I need to yap about this a lil). BIG YAPPING SESSION, BEWARE.

The miniseries has 3 episodes, each 1 h long.

I haven’t read the novel (my friend did) and the only thing that I know is that everyone dies (I asked her), but not who’s the killer.

I love how right from the start there’s this atmosphere of uneasiness: the place is gloomy, the music is ominous, the guests seem to barely tolerate each other (which is true) and the circumstances of how they where invited are a bit strange. Also really like how you see all the characters slowly going mad (some more than others), abandoning all their nice facades and giving in to their more unpleasant characteristics, also slowly accepting what they did and confessing to it (not everyone obviously, but the endgame people sure do)

Basically the 10 people here are all guilty of something (the 10 lil Indians or soliders) and get killed based on a nursery rhyme, by the same name, tho some actions are more dire than others and the order of the killings are based on that (my friend made me notice that).

The ten little soldiers and how they are killed (not in order):

- Mr and Mrs Rogers: the keepers of the house. He killed a wealthy woman in her sleep (basically pulled a James Sunderland) and his wife didn’t denounce it. The man got slaughtered with an axe (foreshadowed by a long sghot (?) of the axe) (chopped himself in a half”) and the woman killed in her sleep (probably with the pillow) (“overslept himself”)

- General MacArthur: General during WWI. He discovered that his wife had an affair with a good friend of his so he shot him in the head and… Yk… He was counted as a victim of the battlefield. Well… His wife died shortly afterwards, because of the Spanish flu so it was all useless. Gets his head cracked open outside the house. (Stayed in Devon).

- Dr. Armstrong: a doctor who was specialised in female neurosis (how lovely), he obviously was a fucking misogynist. He failed (really badly) a surgery… Probably was too drunk for it? He is shown drinking to alleviate the shaking of his hands, so probably did the same in that occasion. Medical malpractice, yay! I really find it amusing how the was one of the first ones to loose his marbles… He really went crazy and paranoid, didn’t trust Philip and especially Vera (they heated each other’s guts a lot, making jabs at each other right from the start). He was the most fragile of the guests and the most unbalanced, really ironic considering how he treated people with neurosis. Found outside near the coast all wet and with seaweed on him, probably drowned. (“A Red herring swallowed one”)

- Anthony Marston: the first to die. Your average rich young man that could do whatever the fuck he wanted with daddy’s money. Was obsessed with cars (he treated his own like his wife, my god). Always speeding, run over 2 children, says that it was their parents fault, because they have let the children out at night (it was in the countryside and they had some lamps). This mf, who doesn’t feel guilty, only got his license revoked for 6 months, no jail time no nothing… Really annoying mf, used to take “stimulants” (drugs, but our good gentlemen obviously cannot use that rude and unstylish word). Killed with Cyanide (“chocked himself”).

- William Blore: a pig (policeman). As pigs do, he has beaten a criminal to death, he should have let him go, but didn’t do it. One of the last standing ones, he breaks down when left with Philip and Vera and confesses, he also reached the deeper end and was “What if we are all already dead and this is just Hell?”. Him talking about his lil piece of land, gives him some humanity and makes us almost feel bad for him. Stabbed to death (“A bear hugged one”)

- Emily Brent: I’m a bit confused about her character… She’s into those teaching circles, about what a good woman should do and whatnot and had taken a girl “under her wing” to teach her… My confusion comes from here… There’s a scene in which she is sucking the bleeding finger of the girl, so sexual tension… Does that mean the she SA the poor girl and then abandoned her when she wanted to tell everything? Then the girl threw herself under a train… She got stubbed at the neck with a crochet hook (“A bumblebee stung one”)

- Philip Lombard: a mercenary, killed 21 men for some diamonds (your average white colonialist). In his case I was pretty sure that he wasn’t the killer, it would have been too obvious, he is the only one that immediately admits his crime. He is a sick mf for what he has done, but he is in peace with himself, really nonchalant about it. He gets shoot by Vera Claythorne (multiple times), because she didn’t trust him, as I said he was the obvious choice (a gun for hire, man with no morals) and the “only other left” besides her. (“Frizzled up”)

- Vera Claythorne: a secretary. So… The series wants you to believe that she’s the one last standing, there are many shots in which she is seen with a noose (like at the start when she was in the train) or something related (the hook on the ceiling)… So you are like: “Everyone has to die, so she’s killing everyone and then herself.” Tho towards the end Bill gets killed and she is following (not closely) Philip and this throws you off a lil bit: “It couldn’t have been her. Are they just killing each other, because they cannot trust anyone???”. It is shown her true story, how she wanted to kill Cybill so Hugo could get rich and then live a happy life with Vera (what a bitch… Poor child) and this leaves you a bit shocked (a pretty big twist, am I right?), because throughout the whole thing she seems the more guilty ridden of everyone so you don’t expect that shit. She goes to hang herself (obviously). (“He went out and hanged himself”).

NOW THERE’S THE REAL BIG PLOT TWIST! SPOILER!!!

You might say “Hey! What about the 10th person?” LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THAT MF, MY FRIEND.

THE REAL LAST PERSON IS THE JUDGE LAWRENCE WARGRAVE!… (Charles Dance, btw)

This man was a judge and was really well known for the fact that he watched every hanging of the people he sentenced to death, so we are lead to think that this is another sick fuck that enjoys this shit. His crime is convicting a dude (don’t remember his name) who apparently was a serial killer, but the way this is shown and the fact that he refused the hood makes us think that in reality he was innocent. While watching this I wasn’t really convinced by his mannerisms… He was too calm, too collected for that situation, everyone was going mad (even Philip) and it is mentioned that he had cancer (tho HE tells us that he was able to get rid of it)… So I obviously was: “Ok… It has to be him, he doesn’t have anything to loose, probably the cancer will come again and is TOO collected. I don’t trust this mf.” But then HE GETS SHOT TO THE HEAD!!! So obviously we all are: “Oh… So it wasn’t him… He’s dead… Huh.” And you are still left to wonder who is the killer. The thing is , AND I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS, HE IS NOT DEAD!!!! HE MADE AN ALLIANCE WITH THE DOCTOR (who was too paranoid of the others and already had shown trust to the judge “we are both fine and intelligent men, not like these other people”) TO FAKE HIS DEATH WITH SOME LIVER AND OTHER ORGANS (previously shown missing in the fridge). THE DR CHECKED AND PRONOUNCED HIM DEAD AND EVERYONE BELIEVED HIM. Those 2 met outside at night and Wargrave killed Armstrong…

The scene in which he appears made me loose my shit: we have Vera trying to hang herself and then we hear rustling and THE FUCKING JUDGE OPENS THE DOOR!!!! Then they talk, she is slowly dying of asphyxiation because she lost her balance on the chair and is barely touching it and begging Wargrave to help her and to give the blame to Philip. After calmly sitting next to her he starts listening to her (while watching her dying) and hen explains everything and how that specific hanging (of the serial killer, who, btw, was NOT INNOCENT) made him realise how similar they were, tho the dude killed innocents and he only guilty people. He also says that the cancer was spreading (so he really had nothing to loose). Listens to Vera’s pleads for help in such a cold way, probably used to it and most likely finding her revolting (for what she did and for how quickly she wanted to betray Philip, they had sex the previous night and were being together a lot). He’s also pretty sassy here, because she was asking why and he was “I have a strong sense of duty (he explained previously in the 3rd ep to the remaining people.) I thought that I made that clear.” She was also saying that he couldn’t kill himself because the gun was empty so to help her, then he shows one bullet “You forgot the bullet that killed me” and gets up AND NONCHALANTLY TAKES HER CHAIR AND GOES AWAY AFTER CLOSING THE DOOR.

The last scene is him going to the dining room setting 2 glasses of wine and 2 tissues at the opposite ends of the ramble, cleans the gun and shoots himself and the gun slides to the opposite end of the table. He is smiling.

I loved this miniseries so fucking much, that’s why I’m blabbing about it. Oh, Wargrave’s character is fantastic. This is a very well written story, the tension… The uncertainty… The twists, I should try to read some of Agatha Christie’s novels.

The actors did a good job :)