#totally get it if some have another interpretation

[that-thief-in-red]

I’d really love to be tagged! (by anyone for that matter) I’ve enjoyed all the previous ones so much (even if I don’t always get a chance to reply—sorry in advance 😅). But yes, I do enjoy being tagged, so feel free to include me 🤗

Now for my little (longass) TED Talk moment: I totally agree with anon, and Mari (and looking back at the recent reblogs, what most people are saying!). The way people can be biased toward their faves definitely ends up overshadowing other characters. I think sometimes we get too comfortable turning characters into simplified versions of themselves, especially when they’re not the most popular ones. And honestly, I’ve always felt that about Julia too but never knew how to word it. She didn’t need Carmen to inspire some big change—she already believed in herself. She just needed people to actually listen to her. I love how it was pointed out that she didn’t really have a traditional growth arc. She was already strong and sure of herself; she just needed the space to show it Also yeah, that thing about her not being a genius but a problem solver?? SO TRUE. People act like you either have to be Sherlock-level or completely useless, and Julia lives in the middle ground where people like her actually thrive.

And the ACME point. YES. I dont think she ever really had a “lack of confidence,” but mostly had a lack of space to speak. Obviously just my own interpretation of the character and nothin more. I love my girl Jules, she's definitely a lovely character, as most are in the show. :)

AND SHADOWSAN my boii. I really do think he’s killed before during his time as an operative, and honestly? If it came down to it, like if it was between protecting someone like Team Red or himself, I believe he’d do it again. Not recklessly or easily, but without hesitation?

The thing is, ever since he met baby Carmen, he’s chosen not to. That decision changed everything for him. Unlike Carmen, who I think would rather sacrifice herself than take a life, Shadowsan has that deep, quiet willingness to do what's necessary. But the reason he doesn’t anymore? It’s because of her. Because she gave him another way to exist. I don’t know how else to explain it, but maybe I’ll try with a short piece—because wow, I really need to write again (it’s been forever 😭). (also this is more so my own headcanon)

Mari brought up the good ol' Shadowsan quote:

“I do not consider myself an evil man, merely a soldier with orders to obey.”

And honestly… I feel like what would’ve hit even harder is if he’d said, “I DID not consider myself an evil man.” I feel the small change would've done more. That he used to think like that. That following orders once excused everything for him. That he once believed he was just a product of his world—of poverty, of circumstance, of unfair systems that made “doing wrong” feel inevitable.

But then Carmen came along.

And she, despite every unfair hand the world dealt her, chose to do good. She was kind. Gentle. Protective. She cried over hurt turtles that washed up on shore. She gave more than she got, even when no one thought of her—long before she had Team Red. That kind of selflessness didn’t just impress him. It shook him. It made him feel.

Maybe that’s what unlocked his guilt and justification stopped working.

So now, he knows what he’s done. He knows what he’s capable of. But instead of hiding behind the word “orders,” he makes his choice of not being that man anymore. Not because it’s easy. But because a little girl once looked at him and still believed he could be good.

And honestly it’s more than fine to have favourite characters (I’ve got mine too, bias and all), but I think it does a disservice when canon gets bent too far just to fit what we want a character to be.

AND NOW curtain reveal for a short insight? Story.

“For if you choose this road, there is no going back.”

Shadowsan does not think himself a perfect man. Not the saviour in anyone’s story (Carmen might disagree). Not the hero in one of Zachary's overly dramatic action flicks.

At one point in his life, before the girl with sunset curls, before those steady grey eyes met him and softened without reason, before the gummy smile that screamed purity—he truly did not think himself an evil man. merely a soldier, as he once told her. A product of the world’s injustice. Obedient. Necessary.

He was wrong.

He was a man stained by his choices. Tainted by what he’d done in silence, and what he’d allowed others to do in the name of discipline and control. He sees it now, clearer than he ever has, and still wonders how Carmen doesn’t. Or maybe she does. Maybe she chooses not to look directly at it. Maybe she refuses to see the blood on his hands so she can go on believing in the better version of him. The one she calls sensei... Protector… and in one unmarked moment. Father. Maybe in her eyes, he is still a samurai. The kind from her childhood stories. Not the shame-soaked ninja he sees reflected in the mirror.

And yet he had chosen this road. Chose it easily, the moment his life became unsatisfactory. Not out of desperation, but out of want. Out of greed. He was a selfish man, once. He had told himself it was survival, just another hand dealt by an unjust world. But deep down, he knew the truth: he wanted more. More power. More control. He followed orders because they gave him purpose, yes, but also because they gave him permission to take.

And then Carmen came along.

This child, who had every reason to turn bitter. Who had no real home, no real past (that she knew of), no one to shield her but herself (for he was a coward and not enough) and still, she chose good. She was kind. Gentle. Protective. She cried over injured turtles and nursed them like they were sacred. She shared food, warmth, laughter, even when she had little of any of those things herself. Before Team Red, before the missions, before the name Carmen Sandiego meant anything to the world. She was already that person.

That selflessness didn’t just impress him. It undid him. It peeled back every excuse, every justification he’d clung to like armor.

Maybe that’s when the guilt began. Maybe that’s when he realised that obedience was not innocence, and survival was not absolution.

Now, he lives with it. The weight of what he’s done. He knows exactly what he’s capable of. The blade in his hand, the violence in his body, the things he used to do without hesitation. But he doesn’t hide behind the word “orders” anymore.

He makes a choice. Not because it’s easy. Not because it erases the past. But because one girl small, stubborn, impossibly hopeful once looked at him and believed he could be more.

And somehow, that was enough to make him try.

Even if she doesn’t know the full extent of what he’s done. He prays she never will.

But even if she did, some part of him wonders if she would still sit beside him like she does. If she'd still bring tea and call him "sensei" without flinching. If he'd still undeservingly hold the title of father in her mind

“There is no going back” Maybe that’s why he keeps going. Because he couldn't go back if he even wanted. Couldn't redeem himself no matter how hard he tries. Couldn't erase the past. He could only try to be worthy of the peace she gives him, day by day.

One breath at a time.

(IK THIS IS UNGODLY LONG BUT I ALSO WROTE THIS LIKE 3 DAYS AGO AND THEN I GOT CAUGHT UP IN WORK AND WAS NOT ABLE TO PROOF READ THAT MUCH OR ADD ON TO ANY NEW NOTES PEOPLE HAVE SAID, im sry lads)

I feel like some people really undermine characters they don't like and elevate characters they do, take gray and chase,

Gray, according to canon, is one of VILE's finest and dr bellums favourite student, we know from the book that he made inventions, there was a electrical grid something I don't remember exactly what, but it was there, also he beat all the ACME agents when he made his escape, but I've seen people thinking he's not competent, at least two the other operatives.

Then we have chase, who found VILE island and is very obviously clever but held down by his arrogance and unwillingness to listen to other people, he is not a himbo, but I've seen people make him incompetent in many fics.

Contrast to julia, who I've seen people make a genius, like no, she's not, yeah, she's academically smart, doesn't mean she's a genius, it takes a lot more than that.

-🐇

[ghost-bxrd]

Do you think Bruce was in the wrong in utrh? Do you think he should have killed the joker, or that he failed Jason?

I think Bruce handled the situation completely wrong. In its entirety.

Yes, he failed Jason. Both as Batman and as a father.

Killing Joker isn’t necessarily something I would want Bruce to do… well, no, I do. But I understand that he can’t. So that’s really not the hard part I got hung up on.

What got to me was the way he didn’t even try very much to compromise. Not a single second of genuine joy over Jason being alive, overshadowed by his actions as it may have been.

And yes, Jason was being downright nasty, but Bruce “greatest-detective-slash-everyone-deserves-a-second-chance-slash-philanthropist” almost killing him and leaving him there in favor of saving Joker?

Nope, sorry. There aint no coming back from that sort of shit.

A real father— or hell, even a good MENTOR— would have tried to compromise with the miracle of a (child) man standing there. Would have gone weak kneed with disbelief-grief-hope.

So yeah, I think Bruce failed Jason in almost every way possible.

Bruce saw a cold hearted killer in the Red Hood, a failed project. A rogue soldier. His mistake.

In reality, Red Hood is a scared, angry teenager that just wanted a single ounce of proof that he wasn’t discarded like a stray dog at the first chance they got.

[sigurdjarlson]

I always found that sweet how a lot of the time in TLG Med would jump to reassure Khadgar or even apologize after snapping at him

And yet in some ways the cruelest thing Medivh said to Khadgar in my opinion was correcting him when he called Karazhan “Our Tower.” And reminding him he was there at his whim and he could send him away at any time.

And he never did apologize for that one and honestly I don’t really blame Med for that per se? It is his tower and Khadgar can’t tell him who is allowed there. What I mean is going by JUST the power dynamic they have as mentor-apprentice, Khadgar is absolutely out of line there

In some ways could have come off quite spoiled and entitled but the thing is I don’t think that was the case at all.

He’s become so comfortable in Karazhan he’d started thinking of it as his home. Then Medivh has in one conversation reminded him it very much was not his home and he could send him away at anytime if he so wished it

He’d finally found someone who cared about him, respected him and treated him as a person. He found a place where he felt he belonged for once in his life and…

No wonder he was so jealous of Garona for a while after that. He’d been reminded that all of it could be taken from him at any moment and here was someone stealing his Master’s attention.

Just thinking about how that jealousy so obviously comes with feeling like he’s not enough and insecurity about his place in Med’s life.

Just very interesting how I think it could very well have went over Med’s head as not that big of a deal too? One of those things he’d be like huh oh yeah I said that? Meanwhile Khadgar is spiraling about it

He could of also been absolutely aware of how harsh it was because Medivh does lash out like that on occasion (especially towards the end of the book as Sargeras gets harder and harder to fight) he can be a little shit we know this

(Don’t really blame him for that given being possessed by the demon lord Sargeras is probably just a teensy bit tiring /s)

Also seen valid and honestly very possibly canon interpretations where he’s also trying to push Khadgar away cuz he knows what’s coming and what Khadgar is going to have to do.

The more attached to him he is the more difficult it will be for Khadgar to do what needs to be done.

What better way to push someone away then hit them right where it hurts?

And yet even then I think those words hurt Khadgar deeper than he’ll ever know :(

[unproduciblesmackdown]

come get your levitous sidekick / vicious bastard / funny little guys

[vrystalius]

Squid Game men as dads (+pregnancy HCs)

How they act during your pregnancy, shortly after birth and as a veteran dad!

Pairing: Recruiter, Thanos, Dae-ho, Gi-hun, In-ho x fem!reader

Summary: Headcanons, scenarios as them as to-be-dads, new dads and veteran dads plus a bonus scenario at the end of each character!

Genre: Fluff, angst

Words in total: 7.1k (Every part is around 1.4k words long)

Note: No baby names or gender are mentioned so everything is up to your interpretation. Also, this took a lot of effort. I hope you enjoy this <3

Gong Yoo // The Recruiter // The Salesman

( Words — 1.1k )

Your husband was extremely over-prepared for anything and everything during your pregnancy. He seemingly bought every single parenting book that exists on this planet and proceeded to inhale them in a matter of days before internally panicking about if he is capable of being a good dad anyway. You can tell how much everything was eating away at him, even before the child was born. Although he tried his best to never show it.

A way to channel his nervous and stressed energy into something good is by constantly hovering around you. Being near your pregnant glow gives him a peace of mind, resting his head on your stomach and listening to the baby’s heartbeat and feeling a light kick here and there, or having you in his arms while giving you a massage, his lips peppering featherlight kisses over your skin.

Gong Yoo always insisted on cooking for you, no matter the hour of day or night. He is kind of afraid you might consume something questionable again after watching you dip tuna kimbab into chocolate sauce, insisting it tastes really good and almost making him try a little too.

For you and your baby’s health, he fully banned you from the kitchen. No more experimenting with food for you.

˚✧₊⁎-

He was absolutely broken the first time he held your baby. It was so unbelievably small, so fragile, pure and innocent. The embodiment of love and the result of it. Gong Yoo had to bite his tongue and hold back his tears in order to not cry waterfalls onto your newborn because he knows once a single tear drops, his whole facade shatters.

Once the baby came home with you two, the once neat and organised, shared home was transformed into a more warm and homely environment, the floor now decorated with toys, onesies, clothes and small children’s books.

He always gets up in the middle of the night so you can rest, falling asleep in the rocking chair with the baby in arms. Your husband is also mostly the one that stays at home with the baby since his job only requires some recruitment of desperate people once a year, so most of his time can be dedicated to you and his family.

Gong Yoo is also that one dad most of the other moms swoon about when seeing him at playgrounds or in the park, pushing the stroller of the baby, or having his kid hang out in a sling tied to his chest while he went shopping, comparing two types of baby foods with another and showing both to the bean of happiness tied to his chest, cooing and asking which type of baby food is tastier.

Hanging out with the baby is probably the activity that takes 80% of his day and he is not complaining at all. Your husband’s head lays on the edge of the crib while watching the precious thing sleep, cradling them in his arms in the middle of the night, sitting with them in the playpen, completely matching their excitement and energy while playing with their toys, admiring how easily his kid can be entertained.

Although he looks charming and even more handsome out in public, he cares little about his appearance anymore. While he was obsessed with the way his suit looked and hair was styled, now, he considers himself satisfied when he finds a clean t-shirt. His hair gets a little messier and dark circles begin to form beneath his eyes.

˚✧₊⁎-

Even as a veteran dad, Gong Yoo fold together immediately when his kid try to win his favour by saying I love you or making puppy eyes at him. He’s not a pushover though, standing his ground and giving his kid a strict glare whenever they go to far that immediately silences them is not impossible, although he doesn’t like doing it.

He is always afraid of doing something wrong when it comes to parenting, overthinking every decision and everything he says, fearing he’s too strict, too loose, too much of a pushover, too disinterested and blah blah blah.

You had to stop his circling train of thought by soothing your husband by reminding him how he always shower up to every single school event, always sat through the homework and never raised his voice when his child didn’t understand something, instead explaining it in simpler terms without making them feel stupid for not getting it the first time, how he never shamed his child for doing wrong, never blamed them for being just a kid and always did the opposite than his own father did.

It might sound selfish, but becoming a father healed the hole left behind by his own. Oh how he wishes and prays that he does and did everything right. The only thing he wants is for you and his precious baby to be happy and safe, no matter what.

˚✧₊⁎ - (TW: Suicide)

“What’s the matter? Your mind starting to race?”

The recruiter sits across Gi-hum, gun handed over into his hand. The cold metal now feels almost overwhelming when touching his skin, as if screaming at him to turn it around and point it at the man sitting across him and shoot him, end the game here and there.

“That’s right. Screw the rules. Now, with a single pull of the trigger, you could kill me… but, I’ll have you admit one last thing.”

Gi-hun’s voice wasn’t even shaking in fear, it was firm with determination.

“You put a mask on your face and do whatever your master says. You run, bark and wag your tail for them.

You’re nothing more than their dog.”

The words emitted from the mam sitting across him begin to slice deeper and deeper into his mind, his heart and soul. It’s true what he says, Gong Yoo knows it himself. He is but a small chess piece, a dog, as Gi-hun says, that obeys every order and does what his master says.

What choice does he have anyway? It’s either that or risking his death and yours.

You. A flashing memory of your face from just this morning briefly plagues his mind, the view now feels so utterly distant and unreal.

A small, cocky smile spread on his face, pathetically trying to have his last laugh. He leaned back against the cushion and cocked the gun, pressing the barrel against the underside of his chin. Taking one last breath, his finger pressed against the trigger, not pulling it yet.

He knows you both will be okay. Maybe even better without him.

Thanos // Su-bong // Player 230

( Words — 1.5k )

To be very honest, the news of your pregnancy kinda hit him like a truck. It was somewhat accidental and Thanos maybe panicked quite a lot while pacing around his shitty apartment, scared to death about the idea of becoming a dad. Like, have you seen him?? He is supposed to become a dad?!

After loosing his mind and having multiple panic attacks, he pulled himself together and went to the dollar store to buy a onesie, a teddy bear and a bouquet of roses before heading over to your place and ringing the doorbell for multiple minutes until you finally open the door.

He actually sold his apartment and moved in with you, performed a gig every night for multiple weeks on end, even dealing his fair share of drugs in club pentagon. Your boyfriend would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it, but having a stable income would be much nicer.

Other than that, your boyfriend took care of you the best he could. Whenever you crave something to eat, your boyfriend will stand inside a gas station at 2 am to buy you the specific type of chips you wanted. If there wasn’t enough money to afford a decent meal for the two of you, you’d get all the food. He promises to be fine and get his food elsewhere, don’t even worry about him.

He is incredibly fascinated by your changing body. Your breasts are bigger, softer and sensitive. Thanos will be poking them all day every day randomly, trying to see if they’ll leak despite you only being three months into the pregnancy. He’ll insist on taking a picture of your belly every day so he can document the process to show it off to his kid one day.

Also, he never smoked, vaped or used around you. Your boyfriend has been clean of drugs for the almost entirety of your relationship but still smoked, but for the health of you ans your baby, he tried his best to get clean on that as well but it proved to be much, much harder, so he instead settled on doing it on the balcony or outside.

One last thing, whenever he had a new ultrasound picture of his baby, he was showing it off to everybody he knows with the biggest grin on his face. Thanos was the proudest dad in the world before your baby was even born.

˚✧₊⁎-

Since your boyfriend was so used to staying up all night and performing, so he doesn’t really mind dragging himself out of bed to feed or cradle the baby in the crack of dawn. Although, doing that for multiple nights on end drains any person, so you two end up playing rock paper scissors after a while to decide who gets up.

Thanos is the type to grab his baby by the back of the onesie and lift it out of the crib, gently throwing it onto your bed for some family cuddles, grinning like an idiot at how his baby giggles in delight and kicks its legs, wanting to fly through the air again and again.

He performs for his kid too whenever he doesn’t know what else to do to make his baby stop crying. Your boyfriend would play with an imaginary DJ board with his hands, his waist swaying left and right as he sleepily raps some random lyrics together to make the crying baby in the crib finally fall asleep after being fed, cradled and having its diaper changed.

Sometimes, if all fails (even rapping), Thanos will climb into the crib in order to finally make the screamer fall asleep. His legs would dangle over the edge of the crib and angled in a weird position, his neck awkwardly leaning against the railing. Despite this clearly uncomfortable pose, he was deeply asleep and snoring alongside his baby sleeping on his chest. Of course, this scene immediately became your new phone wallpaper.

After having the baby for a while, Thanos’s fashion will completely shift from the indie/grungry/rave-whatever-esc he was wearing to whatever is clean and comfortable. He doesn’t care he’s wearing a spongebob shirt right now, he’s busy deciding if he wants to buy a CD of the Beauty and the Beast movie or treat you with some snacks and chocolate.

Your boyfriend also had some serious attachment issues. That man could not stand not being near his baby 24/7 or not being able to have it in sight. If you want to take it out to the park or something he’ll insist on coming with you or else he’ll be stuck bouncing his thigh up and down and switching between social media platforms to pass the time until you come home.

What was kind of fascinating to you was how little Thanos now needs to be entertained. Having his little sunshine on his lap, curiously biting onto his fingers or reaching out to his hair could keep him entertained for hours upon hours.

Sometimes you walk in on your boyfriend lying on his stomach, legs kicking in the air, making some grimaces at your kid and watching how it begins to giggle and laugh, trying to copy their dad’s expression as hard as they can. Although you have to say that your baby has their papa’s signature scowl.

˚✧₊⁎-

As a more experienced dad, Thanos gathered no experience at all. Despite his baby now being a toddler, it’s still like he has had that kid for two and a half days. Sure he knows what his kid likes and dislikes because it’s basically the same to him, both your manchild and child like colourful things and don’t like vegetables, but Thanos still has no idea how to raise a proper human.

Whenever you scold your child for something, your boyfriend just nods in approval. When the kid looks over to their papa for help, he’ll just point at you. “Listen to your mama, she’s smarter than both of us.”

Although he gets more excited every day at how he can do more with his kid now. He likes to fantasise and envision everything they could do together, like his precious sunshine’s first day in elementary school, teaching them how to ride a bike, first time bringing them to the club and show them off to everyone…

You’ll have to listen to your boyfriend fully plan out tomorrow and what he’ll go do with his kid while being cuddled up in your arms, your fingers brushing through his hair. Thanos’ll gesture around while vividly explaining everything in detail, how he wants to go buy some new toys and then maybe go to the park, grab some ice cream, then go choose out their bike to learn how to ride one on. It’ll be fun!

Although fantasising is fun, reality is often a little different. It’s difficult to afford all the things he dreams of thanks to your financial situation but despite everything, you, him and your child are happy.

He’ll make every minute, every hour and every day count, wanting to make as many good memories as possible before they grew too old and annoyed of their over-affectionate and hyper dad.

Also, your boyfriend is horrified of the teenager stage when thinking back to his own and how he first got caught up in the drug mess and whatever else he got himself into, but thankfully as of now, your child has yet to finish kindergarten so they are a couple of years ahead before that happens.

˚✧₊⁎- (TW: Death)

He was trying to stop the blood with everything he has, pressing his hands against the underside of his chin as the warm, metallic blood stickers through his fingers, staining the bathroom tiles below.

Choking on his own blood, Thanos slowly crawled into the corner of the bathroom, trying to escape from the chaos that erupted behind him. His face was scrunched together in pain as he rolled over onto his back.

The quiet sound of gurgling was completely drowned out by the sounds of fighting, yelling and punching as Thanos quietly gasped for air.

Fuck, this wasn’t how all of this was supposed to go. He should’ve just gotten the damn money and voted to leave, get that Nam-su or whatever to vote leaving too so he could go home with the guaranteed money instead of risking to play another stupid childhood game.

Now he is here, on a bathroom floor, drowning in his own blood because of a fucking fork.

His eyes were too heavy to be kept open, his warm blood on his hand weirdly enough made him suddenly feel so incredibly tired, like a large, warm blanket was just draped over him. He should close his eyes for a moment before he’ll continue to fight for his life.

Thanos can survive this, he knows that. How could he not? He has a kid back home, you. He promised to buy you a ring and propose once he had gathered enough money. Imagining you in a pretty white dress, standing by the altar, waiting on him with that pretty smile of yours.

He can’t miss his kid’s first day of elementary school, graduation, first day of middle school, first crush, first heartbreak. He can’t leave his kid alone in this world, they can barely walk. How will they get anywhere without him being there to carry them in his arms? He promised himself to be there for them with every step of the way they may take, with you in hand.

He just has to close his eyes for a second, then he’ll stop the bleeding and get up. Promise.

Dae-ho // Player 388

( Words — 1.5k )

Dae-ho was over the moon and back the moment he found out that you are pregnant. Pregnant, carrying his child! He always wanted a family of his own and you being able to grant him that wish made him fall in love with you all over again.

He’ll do everything for you during your pregnancy, just you rest and look pretty. Your boyfriend will transform into a complete malewife and cook, clean and completely pamper you. Not that he never did that before, he just did it even more now.

Whatever you wished for was provided; massage for your swollen feet? C’mere, put your legs on his lap. You want to combine the worst foods together and inhale that combo like a five star gourmet meal? Sure, he’ll go buy the ingredients, save him a plate!

Dae-ho adored cuddling with you even more during that time than before. He adored laying his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat while his large palm gently brushed back and forth over your stomach.

Your boyfriend also takes his time every night to talk to the baby in your stomach. Feathery kisses would be placed all over your warm skin while he sleepily recalls things he did today, trying to get your baby to recognise that the man speaking to it was their dad.

He’ll talk about how he finished building the nursery and how much he looks forward to them seeing it, how you two went to the park today for a small walk, how he watched you ate seven hot dogs and proceeded to ask for his to eat as well.

You can’t help but grin how Dae-ho acts like the baby is already there, can listen and understand to what he is saying and react to it. Your fingers brush through his long hair while he slowly falls asleep with his head resting on your soft chest, his arms draped over your stomach.

˚✧₊⁎-

As a new dad, you can’t help but think about how much of a dilf your boyfriend had become.

His hair is messy and his face tired, yet he has that big grin of his always plastered all over. Dae-ho’s whole demeanour lights up even brighter with his baby in his arms, walking around your home shirtless with his muscles on full display for your shameless enjoyment.

Something extremely important to him is skin-to-skin contact, so you’ll have a half naked Dae-ho laying around on the couch with your baby curled up on his chest. He adores cuddling with you, so having a baby between you is a big bonus.

Even after your pregnancy, he was still in full on malewife mode, but now with a baby strapped to his chest. He cooks and includes his baby in the process so they can stay entertained, offering small tastes of the sauce he is working on or letting them have their own tiny cooking utensils to hold and inspect while he stirs the sauce.

His sisters also come by for a visit a lot so they can see the first offspring of the Kang family. They coo over your baby and congratulate both of you, but scold their brother sometimes for not caring for you well enough, especially after postpartum. Your reassurances that he does plenty fall on deaf ears most of the time.

They often times take your baby in so the both of you can have some alone time and rest. You two planned on taking a small vacation somewhere and treat yourselves to cocktails or something, but you and your boyfriend ended up sleeping and cuddling the full week and barely leaving the bed.

At first you and him enjoyed the peace and quiet, but after a day of naps, cuddles and breakfast at 4pm, Dae-ho suggested the idea of getting pregnant again.

He himself grew up in a big household and sure there were a share of fights over mundane things, but at the end of the day, he and his sisters love each other and have each other’s backs, no matter what. If one of them has problems, the others are there to help and support or bury the body of the problem.

He won’t forcefully push the idea of multiple kids on you though. If you say no he’ll totally understand it. He’s not the one carrying the baby for nine months and bleeds every month when he doesn’t, but Dae-ho will try and sweeten the idea of having a big family to you.

˚✧₊⁎- (multiple kids mentioned in this one)

As a veteran dad, Dae-ho always complies to his little monster(s) demands without complaint. He’s more of the fun dad that lets himself get used as a horse where his kids can hop on and be paraded around the home on his back. He could melt whenever his babies come up to him and ask him to join their roleplay, doesn’t matter if he’s going to be dressed up as a princess or supposed to play a big scary monster.

He’d be down to play all day every day, but once school work and homework comes into play, it’s going to be a little complicated. Dae-ho knows his ABCs and all but quadratic functions? Both him and his kid will be sitting by the table, crying of confusion and stress.

Despite being the fun-dad, he can be strict if he wants to. Sometimes his scoldings hit even harder than yours because of how tolerant he is. He never raises his voice or his hand, nor does he shame his child for doing something wrong. Screaming gets you nowhere, he learned that first hand, so instead he’ll try to understand their behaviour no matter how complicated or hard it may be.

Dae-ho is an incredibly proud dad and he will show it. Every award his kid wins, even if it’s a participation award, will be stored in the living room and somewhere you can admire it in its full glory. Every work of art that was ever gifted to him was kept in either large folders that sorted drawings based on the kid and year or on a shelf in the entrance area.

He also has plenty of pictures of his kids that he is ready to show off to everyone that had the misfortune of asking how they are. He’d spiral into a rant about their recent activities (no matter how mundane they seem, they are very special to him) and just how adorable they are, how they have your nose and eyes but his cheeks… the poor waiter just asked if they wanted a refill on his coke, not knowing about pandora box he opened.

˚✧₊⁎-

His body curled together as he pressed his back against the wall behind his bunk. Right now, Dae-ho wanted nothing more but the concrete to consume him, hide him away and muffle and the gunshots and yelling that was happening above him. His hands were tightly pressed up against his ears and his eyes tightly shut.

He hunched over to hide his face in his shaking knees, trying to hide from the gunfight, to hide form the shame of not being able to force his legs to walk and bring the much needed ammunition. Dae-ho knows he is useless.

“Dae-ho!!”

Player 120 calling out to him violently pulled him out of his trance, making him flinch. He stared up at her, his arms slowly moving off his ears, clearly shaking.

“Dae-ho, what happened?”

“I-I’m sorry.”

She leaned closer to him as he glanced away, lowering his head in shame. His lips pursed together and slowly began quivering as low whimpers escaped him. He felt her eyes literally piercing him.

“The magazines?”

Dae-ho stumbled over his own words, barely comprehending what she is trying to ask of him.

“I-I’m sorry— I-I…”

Hyun-ju glanced down to the hoodie near his cowering form and moved the cloth away to see what was inside. The ammunition magazines. Dae-ho flinched violently and lifted his arms to shield his face as she stood back upright with the ammunition in her arms, casting one last worried glance to the obviously scarred and horrified man before walking off.

The world around him went numb again as he kept repeating quiet “I’m sorry”s over and over, mixed together with broken whimpers.

No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t pull himself together and force his arms to grab a gun and fight for the games to end, but being staying here, with the other players, would be safer. Out there he either could be captured and eliminated, shot in the fight and bleed out, watch others die in front of him, kill other humans. He can’t do that. He can’t. No matter if he was in the marines or not.

Back when Dae-ho left for the games and back when he didn’t know that said games include death and murder, you two talked about it. You warned him about how it’s too good to be true. Playing childhood games in exchange for hundreds and up to millions of won?

You made him promise he’ll keep himself safe no matter what. You made him promise to always keep you and his family in mind, how he has people he needs to come back to.

It seems that his own body and soul internalised that pinkie promise you made him agree to. He has to keep himself safe and alive.

Gi-hun // Player 456 (post s1)

( Words — 1.4k )

Finding out that you’re pregnant almost made him have an aneurism. He already has a child that he himself doesn’t have a lot/barely and contact with before she moved away to America and even less now thanks to the distance and the want to keep her out of his mess. The mess that are the death games and the mess he now forced you to be apart of.

Gi-hun already felt incredibly guilty for falling in love with you. Anyone being associated with him is now in the line of fire and probably in constant danger thanks to him. Yet you stayed with him and even provided comfort.

He actually apologised for getting you pregnant while standing in a grocery isle to choose some jumpers and sheets for the future nursery crib. It was out of nowhere after staring at you being so excited over your baby, how you couldn’t decide between two pairs of itty bitty socks.

Gi-hun does warm up after a week or two. He catches himself smiling brightly at nothing after thinking back on how round you already look, what you’re doing right now. His eyes soften up every time he walks past the pastel nursery he build himself, fixing the sheets in the crib and folding the baby clothes together for the 100th time. His hands pick up one of the toys and his fingers brush over the surface, feeling the material beneath his skin.

Every time he does all this, it hits him all over again. You’re pregnant with his child.

Since he already had a daughter before and knows how much of a terrible father he was to her, Gi-hun feels a mix of guilt and excitement blooming in his stomach. He knows what he did wrong, both in the department of marriage with his late wife and parenting, so he doesn’t repeat his mistakes again.

The feeling of selfishness always swims around in his mind because it feels unfair to his daughter how he can provide all the things for his future baby he couldn’t for his daughter; proper attention, the financial means, maturity, a good father figure.

Gi-hun rested his head on your stomach, his eyes closed in relaxation as he listens to both your heartbeat and the heartbeat of the growing life inside of you, your hand idly resting on his cheek. Even if he cannot fully fight those feelings of guilt and shame, he swears to be a better father this time. In no means is he perfect, but he will try his best from the bottom of his heart.

˚✧₊⁎-

Right after birth, Gi-hun was incredibly attached to the baby. He was paranoid for a long period of time, things like sudden infant death and all kinds of worst case scenarios always in the back of his mind. He was faster than you in getting up whenever it cried, rushing over to the baby’s side immediately.

He’ll cradle the baby in his arms, silently walking around the home in the dark even long after his child fell asleep. Most of the time, calming his baby is more to calm his own mind of worries.

Sometimes, you two move the crib into your bedroom to stand beside your bed, just so he can feel more secure and less paranoia. It soothes Gi-hun’s mind to have his baby right there in arms reach. His arm drapes over to the crib, his hand weakly holding onto the railing even in his sleep.

But beside his paranoia, Gi-hun is always ecstatic when around his baby. There is always a carefree and soft smile on his face whenever his baby innocently chews on his finger, his eyes intently watching the adorable bean coo and kick around in its crib.

You gifted him a small heart locker with a picture inside. Unoriginal, sure, but something he cherishes with a his being nonetheless. The picture had you and him together, hand in hand, on one side of the locker, a photo that is actually fairly old. It was of one of your first dates and he had a soft smile on his face. It looked hesitant and unsure, but it was one of the first smiles he cracked in a long time.

On the other side of the locker was a picture of your baby in the crib, looking up into the camera with big and curious eyes while chewing on a rubber toy. You dressed the baby in an adorable brown bear onesie, overloading his senses even more.

Gi-hun wears the necklace almost every day and keeps it secure under his shirt, fishing it out and opening the locker to look at the two pictures to remind himself why he is still fighting to stop the games. His fingers brush gently over your face and his baby’s cheeks, a small smile spreading on his face.

˚✧₊⁎-

Since Gi-hun was already had a daughter before, he already kind of knows how to raise a child, although he sometimes struggles with spoiling his child too much.

Thanks to both the guilt he feels for failing to be a proper dad to his daughter and now having such an insane amount of money he doesn’t know what to do with, Gi-hun showers both you and your child with everything you two could possibly want.

So sometimes you have to remind him that just because your kid really really wants that expensive lego set doesn’t mean he should buy it for them, perhaps when it’s their birthday or Christmas or they have done a very good job at something.

You have to teach the oblivious man how to properly manage his money and maybe not buy everything in sight for your kid. Gi-hun will listen to you with those big, sad puppy eyes he always has whenever you scold him about something.

Also, he adores playing with his kid. His favourite thing to do is to have them stand on his feet and put their hand into his, walking “together” through the apartment while loud, childish giggles fill the rooms. He also loves carrying and walking his kid everywhere, despite knowing very well they acted like they were extremely tired just so daddy can carry them for a while.

How can he possibly deny his precious baby?

˚✧₊⁎-

“Here, take this.”

He takes out an ammunition magazine and offers it to Young-il standing in front of him, who was watching him holding the ammo out to him. “You’re going to need it.”

Young-il’s eyes glosses over his hand and up to his face slowly as if not believing his offer. “Are you sure?” Gi-hun nods reassuringly, holding it a little closer to him.

“Dae-ho will be back with more.”

That was the reassurance he seemingly needed before reaching out and finally taking the ammo out of his hand, nodding slightly. “Let’s do this, then. We have to end everything now.” Young-il mumbled, briefly gesturing towards the necklace around his neck as if knowing what was hidden beneath his shirt. “We have to bring everyone back to their families.”

Gi-hun froze for a moment as his head moves back to his ally. Jung-bae glanced over to the two. Seemingly taken back, the man quickly elaborates. “I mean, you have a wife and child, right? I overheard you two talk about it.”

“Doesn’t matter right now, go!!” Jung-bae waved his hand as if to shoo him away. Gi-hun just nodded and spared him one last glance before turning back to the pink guards standing atop of the stairs. Yet he can’t shake the feeling of dread creep up on his neck.

His hand briefly brushed over the locker beneath his cloth, tracing the heart shape with his fingers. Did he ever talk about you or his child back home? Even about his older daughter living abroad? Does Jung-bae even know about his family? Maybe it’s a lucky guess of Young-il.

His brows furrowed together in thought before Jung-bae ripped him out of his thoughts. “Gi-hun? Are you alright?”

Gi-hun flinched slightly before quickly nodding. “Yeah. Yes. Sorry.”

Without wasting another second or a breath, he pulled the gun closer to his chest and aimed it around the corner and at one of the guards and continuing the shootout. Although Young-il’s last remark still was engraved in his mind.

In-ho // Young-il // The Frontman // Player 001

( Words — 1.6k )

The news of you being pregnant actually horrified him to the core for a moment. The last time his love of his life was pregnant she died in the hospital while he fought for his life in the death games. It is safe to say that In-ho has bad memories associated with pregnancy.

Those bad memories fuel his protective streak even further as you cannot find a moment to yourself. Your husband will be there, hovering near you since the first day you know of your pregnancy. He orders you to take a seat in the leather chair of his study with that Frontman-voice of his while he provides food, drinks and entertainment for you.

In-ho also employed a doctor on the island that specifically is there to give you full medical check-ups every week. He cannot risk loosing you or the baby this time, you have his heart tightly trapped within your grasp and he does not mind at all. His heart is yours and yours is his.

Your husband tries to pull himself away from work and planning this year’s games but the VIPs are quite demanding and he cannot afford to disappoint them. Although he is a lot more home than before which you of course enjoy.

Your husband is actually a very good cook and will cook for you as much as he can, but also doesn’t mind when you give into your insane cravings. He will question your choices though, maybe even check your forehead temperature to see if you’re sick or something when In-ho catches you devour a whole plate of cut fruits you generously salted.

In-ho always was more hesitant when it came to showing affection, fearing he might come off as weak or soft and maybe seem unattractive to you. Even if you think quite literally the opposite.

With you becoming pregnant he became more and more sweet with you. His kisses will be more frequent and linger longer on your skin, his hands will always find their way to connect with you and let them run over your waist, stomach, back and shoulders.

Your affection breaks this man more and more as well, your hand cupping his cheek making him melt and nuzzle into your palm like a touch deprived cat, your kiss warming up his soul over and over.

In-ho knew this before but he never fully realised how hard he fell in love with you.

˚✧₊⁎-

You’ve never seen him cry before so the sight of your husband completely breaking down and showering you in praises and kisses right after birth. In-ho pulled you closer against his chest as his tears flowed down to you, his lips whispering broken “I love you”s, “You did such a great job” and “Thank you”s.

You gave birth in a hospital in Soel and not on the island. It was the decision of both of you to spend the first few days after the birth in the old apartment he still owned in the capital city, away from all the death for just a while.

Those days were the most peaceful and pleasant days In-ho had in a while. It was almost like a dream come true, the dirtiest fantasy he ever allowed to imagine: a regular family life with a wife and child. To go to the grocery store to pick up some carrot baby food and the bar of chocolate you have been craving, to have his biggest decision be if the newborn will wear the soft pink bunny jumpsuit or the cozy grey cat onesie. To be a simple man and his only duties to be a husband and a father.

Although after two weeks of rest and peace, the games pulled him and with that both you and the newborn back to the island.

Your husband did set his will through with the VIPs though and worked himself more free time he could spend with you and the baby.

Though he sometimes takes his child with to work by strapping them onto his chest with a baby sling. He knows that the rather violent environment is not the best place to have a baby, so In-ho implemented changes in the control center to make the place a little more child friendly.

The word “eliminated” was a little too gruesome in his opinion, so he made the woman who spoke the first voiceover change it to “lost” or “lost the game”. The blood on the screens will be censored with the colour black and most of the sound will be muted as to not expose his baby to the screams and pleads of mercy and scar that young mind.

It’s quite the bizarre sight, the Frontman standing in the center of the control room, inspecting the new portraits taken of the players participating the games while a giggling baby was attached to his chest, curiously chewing on their own fingers, unbothered by everything around them.

˚✧₊⁎-

As a more experienced dad, In-ho, much to his dismay, found out that his now a little older kid is very attached to the Frontman mask. Sure, they still smile when they see their papa, but they do seem happier and more excited when he wears his mask and talks to them with the voice changer.

In-ho’s parenting style is more strict than lenient, though he does provide a lot of love, encouragement and praise for his child, even his ways to express those things are more subtle. His hands give out light pats on the head while a smile spreads on his face, giving them an acknowledging nod for their work.

Whenever his kid needs to be lectured, his voice is stern but not loud. Raising a hand does nothing but ensue pain, fear and hate, so he never did that anyway. Thanks to his role as the Frontman, he knows how to be and sound incredibly intimidating and menacing.

It’s not entirely his fault, but In-ho is not home with you and the kid most of the time. He is always incredibly busy, especially during that time of the year. He tries his best to compensate for that lost time by pulling himself away from the games and spend time with his family, but it proves to be harder than it sounds.

He has a lot of pictures of you two on his desk and study. Whenever stress gets to him in a moment of weakness, In-ho will take his time to go through every single one. All of the masterful drawings made by your child are also on full display for his enjoyment and you know he’s treating it like a modern art gallery; with uttermost care and interest.

˚✧₊⁎-

“Look closely at the consequences of playing your game.”

In-ho’s voice was deeper, distorted when speaking through the mask. His eyes pierced through the man kneeling in front of him. Gi-hun.

Gi-hun stared back up at him with so much hate, so much despise. It’s almost humorous to In-ho how the same man that seeped of both hate and determination insisted on giving him one of his essential ammunition magazines. Almost.

The Frontman moved and aimed his caliber at the kneeling man beside him, Jung-bae. He slowly moved his head over to his best friend in horror. “Gi-hun.”

Those were the last words he mumbled before In-ho pulled the trigger, executing the kneeling man swiftly.

As Gi-hun screamed and cried for Jung-bae, trying to reach out to his best friend as the pink soldiers pressed him firmly against the concrete floors below, the Frontman swiftly turned around and stepped away to the master control room, sliding his gun into the coat as he walked.

It was pitiful, he thinks. Not the display Gi-hun gave or how he naively trusted him as the played the persona of Young-il to the point of wanting to overthrow the games with him, but how he, In-ho, opened up to the man.

He talked freely about you and how you two met, fell in love and married, how excited and horrified he was when you got pregnant, how he cried for the first time in a very long time after you gave birth. Gi-hun laughed with him when he ranted a little bit about the adorable antics of his child and he comforted In-ho when he voiced how much he missed you and worried about you.

Most of it was planned to get closer to the man and build some sort of connection, to make Gi-hun think of him as a father and husband than a faceless player. It’s just that In-ho enjoyed talking to him so freely.

He doesn’t have friend, no connection to his brother, no people he can confide outside of you and he can’t really talk about his wife to you, can he?

It almost felt normal, like two men complaining about the small things in life like how dry the buns are they ate at breakfast, or compare their children to one another and pridefully gush about how his already knew how to speak both Korean and English at 1 year old and how Gi-hun’s daughter lives in America and goes to a prestige school.

Yes, he’ll miss those couple of days he spend with him. But duty calls. He has to move on now.

💠

Author’s note. Thank you so much for reading!

I wrote this over the course of around three days while recovering from a head concussion, so I apologise for any mistakes! This took a lot of effort but was incredibly fun to write!! This is probably one of my longest work yet but it’s totally worth the effort, I just hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

[screambirdscreaming]

Something that peeves me whenever I see another post going around with some variation on "autistic people take things literally which means we are the only people who communicate Clearly and Directly" is that - for any given statement, there is not one singular, agreed on, universal Literal Interpretation. If there was, none of this would be a problem!

The nature of language is that there's always some degree of interpretability. Words have several different meanings, often overlapping, and there's nuance of context, cultural references, and so on.

Faced with a statement, most people will quickly come up with an interpretation that to them makes the most sense. But if you asked a roomful of people to explain in detail their interpretations, everyone's would probably be a little different, even for a pretty simple statement. Regardless of whether those people are autistic! Everyone conceptualizes the world a little differently, and everyone has a unique personal history of all the language they've encountered, and these things effect our interpretations.

In order for communication to be workable, given this slosh in interpretability, there's another couple of processes that go on. As conversation goes on, people reassess if their initial interpretation matches up with additional context. If it doesn't, they revise it, or ask clarifying questions. And on the flipside of this process, the other person in conversation is tracking if your reactions make sense with *their* understanding of what they're trying to convey to you, and offering context or rephrasing things if it seems you're out of alignment.

These processes are social skillsets that are, like most social skillsets, not ever directly articulated or explained. Many people are bad at one or both. Sometimes you encounter someone who is really, notably good at it - the vaunted "good listener", who puts in the effort to really understand what you're trying to say, or that really excellent teacher who engages with you back and forth until you really get it. But a lot of the time, it's a sort of passive social friction - people just not getting each other.

Sometimes, you encounter someone whose brain works so much like yours that talking to them feels almost effortless - you just get each other. But that's a pretty rare occurrence for anyone. More often, as you get to know someone, you start to understand the shape of the way they interpret things and learn to account for it, so over time it's easier to make sense to each other.

It's honestly not uncommon in society for people to aggregate in groups of people who interpret things similarly, and who are thus easier to talk to, rather than actually building the skills of communicating across interpretation gaps. Particularly egregious are those groups of men who talk about Women as an incomprehensible monolith, but it turns up to a greater or lesser degree on a lot of levels.

I suspect this is the root of a lot of parenting problems - people who have never built this communication skillset, and relied on choosing friends who make sense to them without a lot of effort, and who are then totally unprepared to interact with a child who interprets things in ways they don't expect.

Obviously I can't speak to The Universal Typical Experience, not least because it doesn't exist. But in general I would posit that:

Most people, give or take a few assholes, are not trying to say things that are confusing. Most people think they are communicating clearly, because the first interpretation *they* would come up with on hearing one of their own sentences is the correct interpretation.

Many people are not very good at accounting for different ways people could interpret things they're saying. However, it is normal and polite social behavior to be somewhat flexible about this and forgiving of misunderstandings. If people are being shitty to you about not understanding them, they are assholes. And I wouldn't assume that the rest of the communication they have with everyone else they know goes totally smoothly for them.

I suspect there is a bit of an unfortunate feedback loop, where people have bad experiences when someone gets mad at them for not getting something, and learn to hide when they're confused. Which then leads to larger, more complicated misunderstandings, which other different people get upset at them about, because those people think they should have asked for clarification in the first place.

Truly you can't win with everyone. No one can win with everyone. There is no monolith of "neurotypical communication" which resolves all these contradictions - all those people you're lumping in together under "neurotypical" have just as much trouble with each other.

[hrtwayne]

Picture You || Misa Rodríguez

Pairing: Misa Rodríguez x Putellas!Reader

Summary: Where Misa has a huge crush on Alexia’s sister.

Note: English is not my first language.

Warning: Just the reader being completely oblivious and Misa being a total simp.

Women's Football Masterlist | Masterlist

The stadium was starting to fill up, the pre-game excitement buzzing in the air as the Barcelona and Real Madrid players stretched on the pitch. You were focused, adjusting your camera settings, capturing the moments before the match began. 

Your attention was on Aitana and Salma, who were laughing about something as they warmed up. But without you noticing, there was another pair of eyes fixed on you. 

Misa Rodríguez, sitting on the bench, sipping water—but her gaze never left the photographer. She didn’t even try to hide it, her lips slightly curved in a small smile as she watched you move around the field, adjusting angles and taking shots. 

Thanks to Alexia, Misa had managed to get closer to the midfielder Putellas. 

On the other side of the pitch, Alexia and Jana exchanged glances, whispering and trying to hold back their laughter. 

"She really can’t hide it, can she?" Jana whispered, nudging Alexia. "Misa’s turned into a complete fool over your sister, Ale."

"I swear, if she gets any more obvious, she’s gonna start drooling," Alexia replied, stifling a giggle. 

Unaware of the two, Misa kept watching you, completely lost in her own thoughts—until Patri appeared behind them, crossing her arms. 

"She really doesn’t know how to be subtle, huh?" she commented, making Alexia and Jana jump. 

"Damn, Patri! You almost gave me a heart attack," Jana said, clutching her chest in exaggerated shock. 

Patri just raised an eyebrow, amused. 

"How long until Misa gets jealous because someone hits on her?"

Alexia glanced at Misa, who was now frowning as she watched Cata pull you aside, pointing at something in the stadium and laughing close to you. 

"Not long, apparently," Alexia replied, trying to hold back a laugh. 

Misa tightened her grip on her water bottle, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.  "Oh boy..." Jana murmured, watching the Madrid goalkeeper’s expression darken. 

Patri sighed, shaking her head. 

"Someone should warn Y/n that she’s messing with a woman who doesn’t know how to lose."

"Or better yet..."Jana smirked mischievously. "Let her find out on her own."

As the three players chuckled under their breath, Misa finally stood up from the bench, determined to interrupt Cata’s conversation with her photographer. 

And, by the looks of it, the match hadn’t even started yet—but the most important game of the night was already underway. 

It had been exactly three years since you were hired as the official photographer for the Spanish women’s national team, and nearly six for Barcelona. Time flew by, and you felt like part of the family. The players had welcomed you warmly, especially Aitana, who always pulled you into lively conversations—and, of course, her sister Alexia made sure to include you in the little things. And then there was Misa, the Real Madrid goalkeeper, who seemed to have a special interest in you. 

You, however, never interpreted Misa’s behavior as flirting. You thought it was just her outgoing, affectionate personality. After all, Misa was like that with everyone, right? 

But that night, everything would change. 

The team had gone out for dinner after the victory, and the mood was relaxed. You moved between tables, capturing candid moments of the players, when Patri—one of Barcelona’s midfielders—approached you. 

"You should’ve taken some shots of me for my feed," Patri smiled, lightly brushing your arm. "You promised to help me update it."

You smiled back, oblivious to the sharp gaze Misa was leveling at the scene from across the room. 

"I can do that next week, Guijarro," you replied distractedly as Patri kept chatting, laughing at her own jokes and touching you at every opportunity. 

On the other side of the room, Alexia raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with Aitana as they watched Misa’s fingers tighten around her glass, her jaw clenched. 

"You should be more subtle about your crush on my sister, Misa," Alexia teased, amused. "You can’t complain. You two have absolutely nothing going on."

Misa huffed, knowing her friend was right. But it was unbearable watching Patri act like she had some claim over you. 

"Does she really have to be this oblivious?" Misa grumbled, her eyes locked on the way you smiled at the Barça player. 

Aitana chuckled under her breath. 

"If you don’t do something, someone else will." 

Misa pressed her lips together. It was true. Half the Madrid team had already flirted with you, and the other half of the Barça squad wasn’t far behind. And here she was—a World Cup winner—standing frozen, just watching. 

But not anymore. 

When Patri finally said goodbye with a lingering touch on your shoulder, Misa decided tonight wouldn’t end without the answer she’d been chasing for years. 

With determined steps, she walked up to you, who was still smiling absently. 

"Y/n," Misa called, her voice deeper than usual. 

You turned, surprised by her tone. 

"Misa, hey—everything okay?" you asked, a hint of concern in your eyes. 

Misa didn’t answer. Instead, she gently took your wrist and pulled you into a quieter corner. 

"Do you really not see it?" Misa asked, her eyes burning with an intensity that made you swallow hard. 

"See… what?"

Misa exhaled, as if tired of waiting. Then, without warning, she leaned in and captured your lips in a firm but brief kiss. 

When she pulled back, your eyes were wide, your cheeks flushed. 

"That," Misa finally said. "I want that. You."

And for the first time, you realized that maybe Misa wasn’t just "affectionate with everyone" after all. 

And maybe—just maybe—she didn’t care one bit about it. 

[bunnwich]

Was just revisiting your blog for some quality Leona content but I was wondering in you had some more Leona bf HCs to feed us? Tysm for all the hard work you do fr.🛐🛐🛐

Hi! I assume you’re talking about this post? I’m really flattered you enjoy my stuff. Thank you so much!! I’ll echo what I said in my other post that I think shipping and yumeing with a comfort character is very personal and that little headcanons and interpretations can vary from person to person. At the end of the day, it’s about what YOU wanna see and reflect into your romance! I think taking the time to add your own lil HCs and lore is the fun part!

✨MORE✨ Leona Boyfriend Headcanons

Bedtime rituals are important: Leona mentions enjoying baths a few times, so I think that this quiet time with his partner would be his favorite, and Leona is even more motivated to do nightly self-care rituals. And when his partner doesn't stay the night, sometimes he "forgets" and does wear his braids multiple days. (Leona just mentions that you should come over and fix his braids if you don't like how he does it when you're not around.)

Unfortunately, he enjoys banter, teasing, and playfighting. Anyway, he can get a little rise out of you. NGL, he’s a super annoying bf that makes you wanna hit him sometimes, but in a lighthearted way. It’s never mean, only annoying. You'll become wise to his "tells" anyway, and realize he’s not serious (he’s very hard for others to read BTW) BUT you KNOW when he’s just pulling your leg.

Eating meals together is another thing he always tries to do, and works his schedule around this ritual. He likes the idea that you are getting enough to eat, and I do think sharing a meal is one of his love languages. Seeing you nourished and while indulging in delicious food (something he also enjoys) makes him feel good.

He doesn’t tolerate disrespect of you in ANY form, teasing is one thing, but he will never speak badly of you or let anyone else. AND HE’D NEVER IGNORE YOU OR ACT LIKE HE’S SIMPLY PUTTING UP WITH YOU. (✨No aloof BF here!!✨) In fact, he may get the habit of texting you TOO much. He’s a handful, and you are his emotional springboard in a way. He doesn't have many close bonds with others, so when he's away from you for too long, he gets restless and will start texting you what he's doing and why it is so dull without you. (He’d never pull you away from friends or anything because he's pretty self-aware of how needy he can be. We love a man with emotional intelligence.)

He’s not a TOTAL pushover, especially when “Coach Leona” comes out. He's not afraid to tell you when he thinks you’re wrong. A tough love session or two where he may just tell you you're too nosy and should be focused on yourself, or let you know when he thinks you may be going about something wrong. He DOES place you on a pedestal in his mind, and if he’s a little tough on you, it's just bc he wants you to be successful. He believes partners should be a TEAM and push each other when needed. (You’ll certainly love to boss him around!!)

Once together, he will NEVER request that you clean up after him or run errands for him. (Unless you really want to ig.) You're NOT one of his underlings or expected to be subservient to him in any way, you are his partner and therefore equal.

 All of Savanaclaw’s attitude will shift about you, and he will request that they should respect you. And hey, if you are tough enough to get with their “boss” then ofc they would respect you anyway without him even saying.

Queen/King/Prince/Princess (whatever you prefer) Treatment. He wants to spoil you but respects your independence. He’s studied you well enough by now to know when to hold back and let you take control. It’s cute…and VERY attractive to see you lead. In fact, he wants to see you at your best, commanding situations and building your skills.

✨BRO HAS A LICENSE.✨ And (I think) a secret car. He keeps it just off the NRC campus. He used to go for long drives alone along Sage's Island’s coast, but now he has company~ He’ll drive you anywhere you wanna go. These drives with you keep him sane. And he’ll take you shopping and dinner dates, most likely just mean-mugging the whole time or falling asleep on the bench by the dressing rooms. BUT HE’LL DO IT FOR YOU. (Yes, dear…)

His peace is your alone time together, without the noise of the outside world or others. Just curled up in his arms playing mobile chess or watching one of those boring history documentaries I know he's into. (Relationships are about compromise, okay??) He’ll let you choose what you watch, too. He's a professional bedrotter, so on those days where relaxation is needed, he's right beside you, asking you what kind of food you want him to order for you. If you wanna yap to him about the terrible book you just read, hey he’s fine with that too!

He KNOWS he is not the most…well, exciting partner, and that self-consciousness shows through sometimes. He’ll do his best to keep you happy, but he probably needs reassurance that he’s not boring you to death with his 15-minute chess lectures or lethargic lifestyle. He’s an old man at heart.

IMO Leona got his first idea of love from romance novels!! After being disillusioned, he ofc put all that “nonsense” to bed as a kid. But I like to think there is still a part of him who is a hopeless romantic softie. He's secretly dreamed of having a “great love” in his life and a strong partner just like his brother. Someone not like all the others, and who will always be there by his side. So don't be surprised when he pulls out a move or line that you’d NEVER expect him to say. (Maybe a dry delivery, but he’d say it!!)

Not always, but sometimes, Leona can be…strangely sweet, but HE MEANS IT. I do think he’s a bit socially stunted in some areas. As in…he doesn't always know what to say in intimate situations, so stealing a few lines from this “stupid book” he read as a kid is NOT above him. That’s what a prince would say, right? In fact, in trying to be so PAINFULLY logical all the time, he might apply “romance” he learned from books in real life to a devastatingly cheesy, old-fashioned, and endearing degree. (He’d never tell tho.)

I’LL SAY IT, Leona’s version of “lovey dovey talk” is talking in the third person.  “You know your lion loves ya right?” “Your lion’s been lonely without ya.” “Your lion misses his_” (Insert whatever cheesy nickname he’s chosen for you). Notice how he conveniently puts himself as ✨possessed✨ by you. Because that's all he wants!! It's cemented in his head. Before he’s sure you feel the same, he’ll make sure you know that he is, in fact, YOUR lion. No arguments. You have to reap what you’ve sown.

In public, these “Your Lion” quips are whispered under his breath, maybe even in your ear. But, in private, he’s fine with rolling over for you like an overgrown house cat, and saying these things loud and proud. He’s looking at you with such a soft expression, you wonder if this is the same intimidating leader of the Savanaclaw dorm you came to know at the beginning of the year.

He’s completely love sick for you. He hates this, but also ✨REVELS✨ IN IT. And what I mean by this is, I think “being in love” would be a bittersweet experience for Leona. He feels very deeply too DEEPLY. He's always been a sensitive guy, and eventually he will settle into a comfortable love…but after SO MANY YEARS of being alone, not just romantically, but without many close bonds OF ANY KIND, the feeling of love would make him feel sorta…sick at first. But, being the grumpy masochist we know…I think Leona would give in to this torture, become addicted to you, especially after you promise that you’re here to stay.

At night, he holds you a little too tight sometimes, but that’s because...he can’t believe you’re really here with him, and the thought of going back to how his life was before you were in it is more painful than anything.

[neigepomme]

˙ ✩°˖ ✈️☃️ triple silly / caleb x reader x zayne

synopsis; three high school friends eating apple flavored popsicles on the way home. surely, nothing too funny about that.. unless?

🍎 pomme's notes - an elaboration on this post from earlier! wrote this as a platonic fic, but interpret however you'd like!

⋆ 900 words / fluff / fem reader / 2nd person

it was stupidly hot today.

walking back home from school with zayne and caleb, you could feel yourself slowly melt under the warm weather — and judging from the sweat on zayne's forehead and caleb's flushed cheeks, you weren't the only one who thought so. panting, you stop in your tracks and call out to the two boys.

"i can't do this anymore. let's get popsicles from the convenience store."

the store was on your way home, and you could all get some (much needed) refreshments while replenishing your strength under the A/C. so with a nod, the three of you went to grab popsicles.

"pips come on, you know the apple one is my favorite — that was the last one! are you gonna let me suffer in this weather with no apple flavored ice cream?"

"that's too bad caleb, because last i checked, you also ate strawberry flavored stuff! my strawberry ice cream sandwich was gone when i got home yesterday and it sure as hell wasn't grandma!"

zayne smiled in amusement, wiping his face with a cloth as the two of you bickered. being a few grades ahead, he'd always have some trouble fitting in with his peers, and he didn't have many friends in his class. it was a stroke of luck when caleb saw him reading an anatomy book and asked about it — instead of the usual nerd comments zayne heard often, he was met with a curious purple gaze full of interest.

he found out that caleb was aiming to be a pilot and the two of them ended up hanging out often, studying and catching up together. eventually, he got to know who you were too ("you have to meet pipsqueak. she's really nice and kind but don't tell her i said that! that's totally against bro code and she'll annoy me forever."), and fast enough, the three of you were inseparable.

"zayne, tell him off! he's being insufferable!!"

your voice dragged him away from his thoughts, and he shook his head with a smile on his face, all while talking to the cashier.

"three apple flavored ice pops, please."

when the clerk handed him his change and the ice creams, zayne headed towards you and caleb. somehow, still bickering — but this time, the topic shifted from stolen ice cream sandwiches to stolen chips bag. it was the usual, and zayne wouldn't trade away the comfort he found in how casually you two treated him for anything in the world.

"zayne, she stole my chips last week! isn't it just cosmic justice if i steal her ice cream sandwich back?? come on, back me up here — wait, three apple popsicles? my man."

wrapping an arm around zayne's shoulders, caleb beamed. he opened his mouth expectantly when zayne handed him a frozen treat, and with a chuckle, zayne placed it up to the brunette's lips. you stomped your foot jokingly, a pout on your lips before you spoke.

"how come zayne feeds you but never me? life is so unfair."

"heh, that's bro code, pips. that and zayne can't even see you from all the way down there.. maybe if you grow a bit more, he'll consider it."

watching you glare at caleb with a soft chuckle, zayne hands you a popsicle and nods towards the door, encouraging you all to finally get back on the way home.

and it was just another summer afternoon, zayne observing silently as caleb picked at your height, and you tried to kick him in the shin. well, that was until you succeeded in your attempt, and caleb tripped forward, making his popsicle float with his evol, while he fell in a ridiculous pushup position. snickering at him, you don't notice zayne placing a hand over his mouth and trying his best to hold back laughter, not until you turn towards the older male.

"he's so lame — zayne? wait. are you laughing??"

somehow, your question was the thing that pushed zayne to the edge as he erupted in boyish laughter — a sound neither you nor caleb had heard before, a sound neither of you managed to pull out of him. caleb's ears reddened, though not without a smile growing on his face and a fake exasperated voice.

"come on, it was not that funny."

you quickly pushed caleb back down, trying to make zayne laugh more. yelping as he falls down again, the sound makes you laugh, thus making zayne laugh even harder — clutching his stomach at how silly the situation unfolding was.

caleb, embarrassed but in awe at how his usually serious friend was laughing, also started laughing, and you all made quick eye contact between yourselves. that didn't do much to re-establish a serious atmosphere, only encouraging the laughter to grow louder — until all that was heard was "it hurts, my stomach hurts, i can't breathe" from all three of you.

wiping a stray tear from your eye, you think to yourself that maybe you ought to trip caleb more often if that was the outcome.

🍎 pomme's final notes - please infold give us zaynecaleb as besties im begging i want to see them being bros together i want my bromance NOWWW

[dokyumms]

nobody else matters

pairing: idol!wonwoo x nonidol!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 582

cw: anxiety, large crowds/paparazzi

a/n: this was a request sent by @yoongznme ! i personally don't have anxiety myself, so i did a little research, but it still may not be totally accurate. it was fun to try writing something new though! hope you enjoy ♡

click. flash. click.

cameras go off in quick succession, rapid bursts of white light flickering every second. it's all too bright, too fast, your eyes wavering over at every flash.

voices layer over one another- laughter, quick exchanges, calls from the photographers- you can't tell.

you shift on your heels, fingers curling around the thin strap of your purse. you don't belong here. it's obvious in the way people glance past you, their attention snapping to the real attraction- your boyfriend beside you.

wonwoo fits into this world with ease, lips pulling into a smile at a passing photographer and acknowledging a model you might've seen on a magazine somewhere. you, on the other hand, give unsure nods to those passing by. it feels like you're an observer; a guest at a party where you don't know anyone.

being in milan only makes it worse.

conversations circulate around you in a blur of italian, you don't get time to even attempt to interpret them, the words slipping out of your grasp before you can process them. every now and then you pick up on something familiar, a name or brand of some sort, but it only reminds you of how lost you are. you try to keep a neutral expression, hoping no one asks you anything and that you don't look as out of place as you feel.

wonwoo's used to this, the crowds, the cameras, all of it. he's done it hundreds of times before: posing, shaking hands, letting the weight of dozens of eyes settle on him without flinching. but then you catch it.

the slight tremor in his fingers as he adjusts his cuff.

it's small, barely noticeable. no one else sees it. not the photographers, not the executives murmuring his name, not the other celebrities who come to greet him. but you do. you've felt it before- the quiet unraveling under your skin, the way the body betrays the mind.

it becomes clearer when he gives you a glance. you can see the unease in his eyes, almost pleading for you. photographers try to capture what they see as a lovely moment between a couple while you try to figure out what to do.

it's becoming too much for him, he starts to fiddle around with the ring on his pinky, a reminder of how he got here in the first place. he's still looking at you though.

you want to help him, even though you're feeling a little anxious yourself. as you reach for his hand, there's a voice at the back of your mind. maybe this is the wrong choice, there's too many people around, you're too exposed. but with another peek at him, you pull him into your palm, untangling his hands.

looking back at him, you can see the tension start to slowly fade as your thumb rubs slow circles on the back of his hand. his breathing evens out a little, not focusing on the continuous flashing in front of him.

you give him a look, asking him if he's okay without needing to say the words. he nods, smiling at you gratefully.

as you both turn back to the cameras hand in hand, he leans to whisper into your ear, "thank you, love."

you know that this will all be posted on social media, the intimate moment you both shared, but it doesn't matter, you can dwell on it later. because nothing else mattered in those few seconds except you and him.

[zillychu]

Hi there! I'm a human artist who is (very loosely) following the Disney/Universal vs. Midjourney case, and you seem like you're pretty knowledgeable about it and it's potential consequences, so if you have time/energy to answer a question I have about it I'd greatly appreciate it! If not, no worries, feel free to ignore! I haven't had the chance to read through the whole complaint document itself, but at the very top, point 2 mentions:

"...distributing images (and soon videos) that blatantly incorporate and copy Disney’s and Universal’s famous characters—without investing a penny in their creation—Midjourney is the quintessential copyright free-rider and a bottomless pit of plagiarism. Piracy is piracy, and whether an infringing image or video is made with AI or another technology does not make it any less infringing."

Do you know if human-made fanart would also be included in this? Or is this something that would only be aimed at big companies? the "incorporate Disney's characters" part is giving me some pause, but like I said I haven't had the chance to read the full document and I'm not confident in my knowledge of copyright law. 😅 Thank you in advance if you're able to answer this! (Brought to you by a concerned fanartist with near-equal disdain for both Disney and AI. also sorry for the essay-length question 😅)

No problem at all, I'm happy to help ease your worries!

To put it simply, nothing is going to change for us. This is only going to affect unethical LLMs like MidJourney, OpenAI, etc. trained on copyrighted material without consent.

This is because Disney (and Universal) are arguing that LLMs are already infringing current copyright law. LLMs make money by directly using their copyrighted images fed into machine that then regurgitates their IP, and is sold for a premium, en mass.

So there's that, but even more importantly: it's already illegal to make money off of fanart.

Which, corporations don't really care about unless you're making a LOT of money or getting a LOT of attention. This is because it's quite expensive to take someone to court, and you have to prove your business was negatively affected by said fanart (nearly impossible in most cases). You've got to be making quite a bit more money than the court costs, and provide documented proof of damages (to your wallet or name) for corporations to go after you.

Which, your individual/indie fanartists don't qualify... but MJ most certainly does.

So, not to say something bad can't possibly crop up from this court case, but there are quite a few things protecting us: there's no angle in the court case that targets fair use (this indirectly protects non-commercial fanart), the court case touches on human interpretation being essential for transformative art (which LLMs don't have since they're automatic), LLMs are already infringing existing copyright law (making money using Disney's images), Disney has quantifiable proof of damages to their company by said LLMs (nigh impossible for individuals to do), corporations have a vested interest in keeping fair use around as free advertisement (fanart is akin to spoken word about your product), and fair use is intensely tied to freedom of speech.

So don't worry! There are reasonable concerned voices considering how evil Disney and Universal both are--but most of the vehement arguments being made against this court case are from scared techbros who want unfettered access to your money and labor. Current copyright and IP law is far from perfect, but anyone calling for total abolition thereof wants protection taken from individuals like us.

[lilac-sweet]

My interpretation of all the Solas endings:

I have been wanting to write about this topic for a while, since I’ve seen a lot of criticisms about Solas being out-of-character. IMO all the Solas endings are brilliantly written, and here’s why:

Solas breaks in 3 different ways:

1: Breaks his wisdom (Becomes Pride)

2: Breaks his pride (Becomes Wisdom)

3: Breaks his leash/conviction (Becomes more human)

1: Breaks his wisdom:

Solas has always walked the line between pride and wisdom: unlike pure spirits, he is able to fluctuate between them - just like Mythal with benevolence and retribution. This makes him more “human” and complex: he even instructs Cole in how being a “demon” and being a “spirit” essentially comes down to a choice we make ourselves.

So Solas is clearly aware of his own failings (just look at his name), but his greatest flaw is not changing in accordance with his own awareness. Due to his wisdom, he knows he is prideful, so he constantly asserts that he is NOT a god: this is as much to make others not worship him as the dread wolf, AND as a mantra to himself to keep him from becoming another Elgar’nan.

However, the limelight is an intoxicating thing, and with him choosing to carry the cross as the dread wolf, he invites that prideful corruption into his heart. It is difficult to truly believe you are not more special than everyone else when everyone else keep telling you how you totally are. As a spirit made man, he is still in danger of becoming what others view him as: he mirrors how you treat him in inquisiton, and he took the name of fen’harel (probably uttered by Elgar’nan) as a badge of pride.

We are told he treats everyone as disposable pawns in order to reach his goals, and we also see the truth of this in his memories. Some people argue that this is out of character for him, since he cares deeply for the elven people and their freedom. I don’t think these things are mutually exclusive: he simply rationalizes everything in order to reach his goal of helping the elves: even if that means sacrificing people

The thing that is so chilling about his character is that he was never meant to lead - he never WANTED to lead either: Mythal was the judge, he her advisor. Without her caring heart to guide his brilliant mind, he becomes callous and makes decisions based only on how best to “win”. This is not to say he does not have a heart, but that he believes he has to set it aside for the greater good: which is exactly where his reasons for leading the rebellion/ tearing down the veil and his methods for doing so contradict each other

He ends up losing sight of his initial reasons because the war makes him so calloused. I believe he shuts down emotionally and can not feel anything but apathy towards everyone when he puts on the mask of the dread wolf - as seen in how he treats the inquisitor vs Rook.

By making so many decisions with such dire consequences and not letting himself feel the weight of that (it would break him) he becomes separated from the “pawns” he uses and stops thinking of them as people. The world becomes a chessboard and a game to him, and that is exactly how a god would think.

That is also the reason he becomes so angry at Rook for saying he views himself as a god: he is so afraid of becoming that conceited, but at this point, the thing keeping him sane and keeping the dam of his pride sealed is the mantra: “I am not a god”. He KNOWS the truth of that mantra, but as this point he doesn’t FEEL it, because he has denied himself to feel anything for anyone in order to be able to get rid of them if logic dictates it.

Through his wisdom he understands why it is detrimental to believe yourself a god, and because of this he is in denial of his own feelings on the matter: he acts like a god, feels like a god, yet knows that he would become what he hates most by acknowledging it - that’s why he uses the mantra: it’s his last effort to stay somewhat grounded.

This brings me to the “I AM A GOD” ending. This is where the dam breaks: he finally allows himself to fully embody his mask; his pride; his demonic side.

By losing to Rook and co through force he is forced to admit to himself that he sees Rook and the world as inferior - he is the only one who can make it right and they are all children, who do not understand him (they shunned understanding when they used brutish force) because compared to them he is a GOD. He accepts pride and abandons the wisdom of staying grounded with the people - the people abandoned him so he abandons the people. He becomes what he has feared most becoming (it is also interesting that his biggest fear is to be alone - and a god stands alone in their arrogance).

He is truly lost to his demonic aspect in this ending and the dark colours of the ending picture reflect this. It is not difficult to argue this is the most tragic ending.

2: Breaks his pride:

Most schadenfreude ending in terms of outsmarting Fen’harel: proving to the world AND to Solas he is not a god and that he is not immune to be outsmarted by a mortal

It breaks Solas’ ego to be outsmarted, since his cleverness is his pride. It sets him free from his pride as it was the proof he so desperately needed: the people inhabiting this world are capable of being his equal and besting him at his own game. He is not better than them, or better put: his cleverness is not infallible. You could argue that a romanced Lavellan/ friendly inquisitor has already proven to be his equal in terms of wisdom, but then again, he has never truly been their adversary.

There is a maddening clarity to him when he finally says “and I am a fool”. I find the break of his pride to be heartbreaking: even though we are told it is a demon version of wisdom, we have seen Solas balancing both aspects - and his name also reflects how big a part of him it is. You could argue he becomes less of a person in both the Pride and Wisdom ending, but more demon/spirit. It is a loss of human complexity and he finally returns to the Fade more alike himself before he took on physical form.

Perhaps it can be argued this ending is the best one from Solas’ P.o.V without a romanced Lavellan: after all, she was the only thing that could “steal his attention from the Fade” or in other words: the only reason he would consider willingly taking physical form without being asked to.

3. Breaks his leash:

The third one is more complex (so bear with me here), because accepting your mistakes and growing in order to not repeat them requires human complexity. A thing Solas has avoided his entire physical existence. He is stuck in regret, yet would repeat all his mistakes again given the chance.

His avoidance of humanity is best seen in the contradiction of his disregard for lives and his conviction of freedom for the elves. His nature compels him to stand against tyranny and enslavement - to be a champion of freedom of choice and thought. Yet as a leader and a strategist he refuses to acknowledge that people matter in more ways than being pawns. He will grieve them later, yes, but his love for a person will never waver his decision if he deems their sacrifice the best course of action in the war - he will not even ask their consent (as seen with the Disruption spirit in the Fade memories).

He does not acknowledge that people are an intrinsic part of war and their lives matter in that equation. He struggles with his mistakes and the lives lost but he can not stop to think he might be going about it all wrong, because I imagine he fears if he factors in the emotional weight of his choices, it would impede his end goal, or worse: break him into indecision.

The emotional weight of the war and the lives lost, his mistakes and his position as a leader - not an advisor, are so against his spirit nature that he suppresses these issues instead of dealing with them like a person. He becomes prideful because he shuts other options out. His way is the only way.

He sees everything fall apart: everything he does: disaster is sure to follow: The blight, trapping the elven gods, the murder of Mythal (x2) - yet he can not stop. He does not know how. He is desperate for a way out - a way out of regret and feeling the weight of his mistakes - he pushes on because that is his only option lest he truly faces what he has done and the pointlessness of it all. All the lives he has sacrificed need to mean something - that is what he sacrificed them for. How can he face that he killed them and not have an excuse for doing so?

In the last ending he is forced to talk about these things: the Inquisitor tells him he is forgiven if he just stops. Yet this is not enough - he has sacrificed Mythal (and in ways himself) to reach his goal and it can not have been in vain. Here Mythal jumps in and helps him carry the weight of it all by shouldering it beside him. He finally lets himself feel the weight of it all and it breaks his conviction. Mythal releases him from her service: the leash of service to not only Mythal, but to her dreams and visions for the elven people; the very reason he was made manifest in the physical world, and so their very long and increasingly painful relationship comes to an end. He gets closure. He allows himself to grow and so he sets out to undo his mistakes: to sit with them (the blight) and truly do the best he can to heal what can be healed. It is the most difficult ending - a true apology: he has to pull a Bharv.

It is also the ending which was foreshadowed if you chose to let Varric help Cole in inquisition. I might get into this more in another post, but essentially he becomes more human by dealing with his shit and growing. It is a warm thought that the best ending is the ending Varric helped make way for.

It wraps up the story nicely as well: he enters the Fade a human, just like he entered the physical world a spirit, underlining the complexity of his character arc.

This is also the only ending in which he can end up with Lavellan: I think it is poetic that she can only join him if he becomes more human, less spirit; a mix of both Wisdom and Pride. He has to accept his humanity and the weight of a human heart - metaphorically, he has to make the choice to finally enter the physical world and all of its complexities of his own volition: and there he finds her waiting.

[iamthatonefangirl]

So I’m not completely sure how requests work but I NEED a fic where the reader like gets into an argument with the winter soldier about something small or big like how he never opens up to her (whatever you prefer) and then some HATE sex after (not really hate just frustrated yk)

disconnect - nsfw winter soldier

I received a few asks that inspired me to develop a story combining them. this is my interpretation of them.

pre-established relationship. if you're new here, there's a mention of a prior event.

disclaimer: fully consensual by both parties although not explicitly stated. dark/sad themes, similar to depictions of depression. read at your own discretion.

~~~

it's stupid, really.

the mud boot tracks all over the entryway when you get home. the huge disaster area the kitchen is.

is it really that difficult to not leave a mess everywhere?

you make your way to the bedroom and drop your bag somewhere on the floor, sitting on the edge of the bed to chuck off your shoes and jacket.

you sit there for a moment, head buried in your hands.

the weight of your situation gets to you more often than not. a lot of those thoughts in your head go unsaid for a number of reasons, particularly because he doesn't have the emotional capacity to care, in your opinion.

is this really the life you thought you'd end up living?

if you wanted to quit working, you could. he brings in more than plenty.

and you'd never have to worry about being sexually frustrated a day in your life.

is that really the sum total of your relationship?

you let out a sigh.

you feel stuck.

~~~

he comes into the bedroom ten minutes later, fresh out of the shower, covered in water from head to toe minus the towel wrapped around his waist.

he goes straight for the bed, lying down on the fresh sheets, soaking them.

"seriously?" you ask, looking up at him, exasperated at this point.

he tilts his head in your direction and gives you a blank stare as though he has no clue what you're talking about.

you take a deep breath and shove down your anger. he's been gone for a week, cut him some slack, you tell yourself.

"everything go okay?" you ask.

you don't want to know the gory details, and he wouldn't tell you, anyways. his face contorts, giving you a disgusted look as though you're crazy for even asking.

he proceeds to shove his hands behind his head, closing his eyes to get some rest.

another deep breath.

"are you hungry?" you offer. the mess in the kitchen tells you that he's not, but you're seriously trying here.

he lets out a low grunt, which you take to mean 'no.'

"can you stay awake for five minutes to fucking talk to me?" you say, anger rising in your chest as you struggle to keep your head straight.

"not talking to you about work," he grumbles, not even opening his eyes.

"clearly, you're not talking to me at all! fuck, I mean, when do you ever?" you yell, standing and walking over to the side of the bed next to where he's laying.

in your anger, you grab his arm and roughly yank it out from under his head, surprising him. his eyes shoot open and he glares up at you as though you've just personally offended him.

"you never fucking talk to me! I- I don't even know if you like me! it's like you just live in my apartment so you can fuck me whenever you want!" you yell at him. your emotions are getting the better of you, your insecurities and your anger twisting in your head. you're completely helpless to stop your mouth from speaking them into reality.

not a word in response. his face is completely devoid of any emotion.

"I don't even know why I expect anything different from you," you scoff. "you're a heartless motherfucker. you don't even care about me."

you feel so empty inside. all the sacrifices you've made, all the times you've cried over the fact that you can't just be normal, all because of what he does for a living, who he is.

all while having to stomach the nausea of simply knowing why you have to keep him a secret.

it's too much to deal with anymore.

he watches as you drag an empty duffel bag out of the closet and begin throwing various items of clothing inside it. it takes a few moments, but it finally clicks in his head: you're leaving. and he doesn't know when, or if, you'll be back.

he stands, grabbing your arm as carefully as he can, stopping you from continuing to pack. "no. stay," he tells you. he sounds so calm, his voice is void of its usual sternness.

he's only calm because he's panicking inside.

you take his calm demeanor to mean that he genuinely does not give a fuck.

"get off me. I'm leaving," you tell him, pulling your arm away from his grasp. that's all you can say, because that's all you know right now. you have no plans for where you're going or when you're coming back.

if you're coming back.

you shove a few more things in your bag as your eyes tear up.

what has your life come to?

~~~

the door slams behind you on your way out, shaking the whole apartment. eerie silence follows.

no sounds of pans clattering in the kitchen. no music blaring while you shower. no keyboard clicking while you work. no more of your laughing as you watch videos on your phone.

no more you.

all there is is dead silence.

he used to live in the silence. he took comfort in it; he'd be able to hear a threat coming from a mile away as long as he lived in the silence. it was his way of protection, his entire way of life.

it doesn't have that comforting effect anymore.

because now?

he's alone.

now, alone, in the silence he once reveled in, he roams the apartment in contemplation. he sees everything he didn't see before.

the mess he left everywhere, destroying the effort you put in every day to keep a tidy home.

but more importantly? he sees the disconnect. the stark contrast between your carefulness and his tendency to act as a bull in a china shop opens his eyes to reality.

he always saw you as a team.

but now?

he realizes that you're not.

you're normal. he isn't.

he never could be.

~~~

your best bet for now is to go to a friend's place, you think. you sob your eyes out as you sit in the driver's seat of your car, and you come up with a lie that's at least semi-believable.

you take a few deep breaths as you click her contact on speed-dial.

"hey, so you'll never believe my luck," you begin, trying to hide your sniffling from the microphone. "my building is infested with rats. I don't know how long it'll be until they've dealt with it. at least a week, probably. do you think I could spend a few nights at your place?"

your voice is choppy as you speak, and it's clear you've been crying, but she doesn't question it. she gives you the 'okay' to come over, and you hang up quickly before the tears start again.

that's how you end up sleeping on her couch that night, sobbing silently into your hoodie as you try to determine what the hell you're supposed to do now.

for so long, you've put up with his bullshit, kept his secret, kept your mouth shut, all for one reason: you love him.

but he's not capable of loving anyone.

~~~

for a while, the feeling of isolation doesn't bother him. all he feels is indifference.

yet as he finally cleans up after himself, the ache in his chest begins. he almost wonders if he's having a heart attack; he's never felt this before.

yes, he has.

he freezes in place, the memory coming to him. he injured you, once, purely by accident. that's when he's felt this helplessness, this emptiness, this deep-seated pain in his chest.

guilt?

he's not sure.

he kneels on the cold hard tile of the entryway, not bothering to put on longer pants or a towel to protect his knees as he wipes up the mud he tracked inside. he doesn't deserve that comfort.

he lays in bed alone that night, mind empty. sleep never finds him.

the following morning, before the sun has risen, he makes a decision.

he opens his bank account and navigates to the most recent transfer, forwarding it back to the sender with one message: deal's off. busy.

~~~

the next morning, you wake up, still feeling terribly nauseous. you look in the bathroom mirror to find your eyes are puffy and bloodshot from crying.

you never should've gotten involved with a cold-hearted killer.

every bone in your body is saying to leave. get out of New York, quit your job, leave him and this whole life behind.

instead, you make a cup of coffee and force some yogurt down your throat before going to work.

you're up early, and don't care to deal with the traffic driving further into the city, so you might as well take the train.

~~~

he has absolutely no clue where you are.

he knows none of the addresses of your friends where you might have gone, not even a single one of their names.

if you didn't have to work, he wouldn't even be sure that you were still in the state.

work.

he doesn't even know the address of your workplace. he has a vague sense of the name of the company, how hard can it be to find?

so that's where he starts.

he camps out down a side street near your office, giving him a narrow field of vision to the entrance while staying hidden. it's the end of the workday, you should be coming out soon.

normally, scouting out a target is easy. he takes a short amount of time to watch them, determine their routines, and find the best course of action to take them out in the most efficient way possible.

there's always a plan, an end goal there. here?

he has no plan. there is no end goal.

for now, he needs to know where you're staying. so he watches and waits for you to come out of the one place where he can count on being able to find you.

he's not prepared for the pang of some unfamiliar emotion that he feels when he sees you come out of the building. you look exhausted; clearly, you didn't sleep last night, same as him.

you still look perfect.

he assumes you're heading to the parking lot, and he realizes he didn't think this far ahead. he doesn't have a fucking car, how is he supposed to follow you to find out where you're going?

he would never make this kind of bullshit mistake on a job.

he's scanning the area, trying to find the most inconspicuous car he can find that he thinks he might be able to hotwire-

you walk right past the parking lot.

he begins to trail you from across the street, mind working through all the possible answers as to where you're going. for now, his focus is keeping his eyes on you at all times.

he refuses to acknowledge the way his chest hurts even more as he follows you down the street and into the train station.

he hates when you take the train, hence why you always drive. to him, the train isn't safe. there's too many variables, too many things could go wrong. today, though, it works to his advantage.

all he can do for now is get on the train car behind you and wait to see where you get off at.

~~~

you're so tired, it's probably for the best you didn't drive today, lest you wanted to accidentally total your car by falling asleep at the wheel.

you want nothing more than to go home to him.

you don't. you get off the train and walk into the first bar you see.

it's after the workday, just past 6pm on a Tuesday, so it's packed, full of both blue- and white-collar workers in need of a drink.

you sit at the bar with the rest of the men as you all contemplate your life choices. you drink way too much, consuming more alcohol than is safe for you to have in your system while walking back.

oh well.

as you walk in the darkness, your head feels heavy, your body warm from the alcohol. you're being reckless, you know you are.

you don't have it in you to care. you feel like your entire life is being ripped apart at the seams, and it's all your fault. you're aware of the reality; you shouldn't ask for more than he can give. that's not fair to him.

no. this isn't fair to you.

~~~

he hates every fucking second of this. you're acting stupid, putting yourself in danger, getting drunk in public while operating under the assumption that you're all alone on these dark streets.

is this how you feel every day? do you feel alone even when he's there?

is he nothing more than a nuisance to you, a reminder of all your fears and all your lost dreams rolled into one?

at least he knows he's there to protect you.

to him, you were his savior.

but to you, he's nothing more than a ball and chain around your ankle.

his chest grows even tighter.

once you get inside the place you're apparently staying at, he relaxes somewhat. you're inside, you're safe.

that means nothing to him. to him, you're only safe within the confines of your own home. you're only safe when you're with him.

does he make you feel unsafe?

he finds another dark alley to hole up in. he's not going anywhere, not going home, not sleeping until you've got this figured out.

~~~

days go by. he learns your friend's schedule, learns the area, learns that you're drinking every day after work.

he knows he doesn't have the right to approach you. he'd lose you for good if he did, he thinks.

except on the fourth day of you being gone, after all these sleepless nights of him sitting on the cold, hard ground, you don't go into work. he watches your friend leave, but not you.

something's wrong.

in the back of his head, he hears your voice from your fight, if he could even call it a fight, saying,

"I don't even know if you like me!"

"you don't even care about me."

the words float around his mind, amplifying the tightness in his chest by 100 times.

that's it. he's done waiting, done watching you like you're a target, done pretending like you're both not miserable. he's done pretending he doesn't care.

~~~

you don't go into work on Friday.

you've spent all week ignoring your problems, ignoring the nausea in your stomach, drinking so much alcohol that you're lucky you don't pass out in the street, alone.

it's time to make a decision.

you don't get up from the couch until mid-morning, getting up to take a shower before heading to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

as you finish preparing your drink, staring down into the mug, you think you hear something in the distance. but the noise is so faint, you attribute it to your lack of sleep and food. you're fine, there's nothing there.

you hear it again, louder this time, and you turn towards where you hear the noise coming from-

from behind you, a hand slips over your mouth, and an arm wraps itself around your waist. you're about to panic when you hear the figure speak,

"it's me."

you let yourself relax against him. he scared the absolute shit out of you, making you fear for your fucking life, but you don't care. he's here.

but then your anger returns with a vengeance.

you put all your weight into throwing yourself forward, out of his grasp, and he lets go.

"how dare you!" is the first thing you say, and then you turn to face him.

woah.

if you thought you looked like shit from lack of sleep, it was nothing compared to how he looked.

you pause your yelling at him for a moment to take in the fact that he looks so tired he might be ready to collapse, that he looks like he hasn't showered or eaten in days.

you push past your worry and begin again, your anger boiling over as you continue yelling.

"how do you know I'm here? have you been fucking following me?"

he forces himself to speak.

"yes."

you scoff. of course he has.

"I'm not a child! I'm a fully grown adult, James!" you yell.

"then why the hell have you been acting like you're a goddamn child?" he yells back.

you've never heard him raise his voice like this before.

"you could have gotten yourself killed. you're lucky I was there. you did everything wrong, against how I taught you to keep yourself safe!"

your entire body is vibrating with the range of emotions you feel right now. you're so pissed off at him, but you've finally gotten him to speak to you. you hate that he's been watching you like his prey all week, but it means that maybe, in his eyes, you're worth losing sleep over.

you both stand there for a minute as you delay responding. your hair is soaking through your pajama shirt, which you realize as you stand there, is one of his t-shirts. your coffee is spilled everywhere from when he startled you, the mug flipped on its side on the counter.

you try to gather your thoughts to respond. you end up coming back to the one thing that you haven't been able to forget about all week, the one thing that breaks your heart more than any of it.

"you didn't even fight for me," you say quietly. you do everything in your power to take deep breaths, blinking your eyes quickly to stop the tears in their wake. "you didn't even fight for me to stay. you just let me go."

you give him the benefit of the doubt when he doesn't respond immediately. you know he needs to gather his thoughts.

you wipe your eyes a few times, listening to the silence, just praying that you mean enough to him that he'll respond.

"I'll never make that mistake again."

you've missed him so much, even in your rage and despair, that those words are all the reassurance you need to hear from him. he steps closer to you, slowly, waiting for your permission to approach.

you take in his appearance once more. he clearly hasn't eaten or slept in days, and he looks dirty. you connect the dots in your head: he hasn't even gone home, hasn't left your side once all week.

the idea of him following you all week pissed you off only minutes before. but now?

your tears spill from your eyes as you wrap your arms around his neck, embracing him as though he's your entire world.

he's never felt as relieved as he does when you cling to him. the aching in his chest finally begins to dissipate for the first time in a week.

you may be in some random apartment, but he's finally home.

he wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up. you get the hint and wrap your legs around his hips, holding onto him as he walks you over to the couch you've spent the last few days crying on.

he lays you down and begins to peel his shirt from your body, revealing every inch of your beautiful skin to him.

he knows has to show you how sorry he is, the only way he knows how.

he adjusts your positioning so you're sitting face forward on the couch, legs dangling over the edge, and he spreads your thighs as he gets to his knees in front of you.

it about takes your breath away.

this man, who is so possessive over you, so afraid of showing even a sliver of weakness or vulnerability, so against the idea of giving up any form of power, is on his knees for you in apology.

you know this isn't easy for him. this is the biggest display of trust you think you've ever seen from him, and your fears about not meaning anything to him begin to disappear.

you're the most important thing in his life. he wishes he had the words to tell you that.

he wraps his hands around the back of your knees, bringing you closer to him, and he pushes his tongue between your legs so softly.

his mouth is wet, and warm, and he hasn't eaten in days, but he'd rather you be the only thing he tastes for the rest of his life, anyways.

a few more involuntary tears spill from your eyes as he laves his tongue over you. you feel so sensitive, the combination of lacking his touch for so long and the emotion behind his actions is making you so much more conscious of his every movement.

he buries his tongue in you over and over again like it's his only mission in life.

he feels the entire lower half of his face, having gone unshaved for the last week, is soaked, covered in you. he hopes he leaves you with a mild rug burn between your thighs so you feel him for days afterwards.

you're so perceptive to his every move, you feel it distinctly when he begins to trace shapes over your clit.

A, E, S is all you make out.

James.

he's writing his name on your skin with his tongue.

you let out a whimper when you realize it, and your gentle hold on the back of his head tightens, pulling his face closer against your cunt.

"James," you whisper as he begins to work you faster, "please."

that's all it takes for him to push you over the edge. your thighs close on either side of his head, and he can mostly hear the way you whine his name as you come for him.

you barely have a second to relax your muscles before he's crowding you on the couch, repositioning you so you're laying underneath him.

his mouth begins to attack your neck, your rules against him putting hickeys on your neck be damned. and you gladly let him, you don't care right now.

he takes no time at all to shove the fabric of his pants out of the way, wrapping your legs around his hips once more, pushing himself down into you.

"fuck," you whisper at the stretch.

he continues his assault on your neck, marking you up and down all the way to your breasts, anywhere he can reach.

he bites back a groan every time you moan so perfectly, filling his ears, repeating his name every few thrusts.

but there's still something in the back of his head he needs you to know.

he doesn't stop, doesn't quit fucking you so beautifully as he brings his mouth to your ear.

"of course I like you," he admits so quietly, and his tone makes it sound like it's the most obvious thing in the world. you're brought back to the other night when you expressed your deepest vulnerabilities to him, and now, he's making up for what he should have told you then. "and of course I care about you."

you clutch him against you as tight as humanly possible until you're both letting yourselves go, feeling the comforting warmth as he releases inside you.

his body gives out, collapsing on top of you, exhausted from the physical and emotional toll of the week.

you finally feel tired too, more so than you have all week. it's as though your body is finally poised to truly rest now that he's with you again.

you can't sleep yet.

"take me home, James," you whisper, and he doesn't hesitate.

~~~

(guys as I'm writing this I'm about to cry)

yeah so I think I spent about six hours on this total y'all

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[istillhaveyourheart]

𝕴’𝖒 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖆 𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑 (Punk bodyguard!Miguel O’Hara x Popstar!Reader)

Cursing, nfsw actions implied, nudity (?),implied voyeurism, (playful) mentions of panty sniffing, some fluff, some sass, this is very self indulgent, , readers a brat, minors DNI

Word count: 1.8k

A/n: Yay reupload Cuz I love these two :3 I added like an extra little bit at the end of I wanted to Hehe, enjoy 😊

Main Masterlist

Popstar Masterlist

—

“Thank you Neuva York!”

Cheers filled the arena as you waved to the crowd one last time, blowing kisses while soaking in the attention. Adrenaline still filling your veins as you walked backstage, hands shaking slightly from the fact you’d had been dancing and singing for the last past two hours.

The second your head set was off and handed back to one of the sound techs, your second and third shadow had decided to join you right away, the latter of which already had his hand on the small of your back as you began walking to your dressing room. Your own hand immediately going to push it off.

“Ugh, you know I don’t like it when you grab at me after a concert.” You immediately groaned, the sweet pop girl act dropping the second you stepped off stage.

“Touching you is a part of my job, Princess.” Unfazed by your attitude, his hand immediately returns to its spot on your back. You were sure if your manager wasn’t right next to you, Miguel’s tone would be very different saying that sentence.

“You would get a job where all you get to do is touch pretty girls-“

“Alright, alright both of you, stop.” Your manager finally interpreted your bickering, lifting his nose up from his phone to glare at the both of you. Resulting in you just rolling your eyes at him when his gaze turned to meet yours. “Can you please behave yourself until we get to the tour bus sweetheart?”

“Whatever.” You mumbled, pushing Miguel’s hand away from your back once again. “Did you make sure to get the bus ready or am I going to have to wait in my dressing room?”

“We’re almost done, but I suggest you shower in your room before we leave. We have limited water and the one on the bus is smaller.” Your manager responded as he looked back down at his phone. “It’ll be another half hour or so.”

“Guess I’ll shower then.” You sighed before parting ways, you and Miguel turning a corner to head back to your room.

“‘Touching you is a part of my job, princess.’ God do you not think before speaking or do you just enjoy making things sound dirty.” You mocked the second the door was closed and locked behind you both. Making Miguel let out a scoff as he leaned against it, eyes following you as you paced around to grab your toiletries.

“You're the only person who thinks that Princess.” He responded, raising his hands up in defense.

“Sure.” Sarcasm dripped from your lips as you stepped into the bathroom attached to the dressing room, setting your items on the marble counter before turning the water on.

—

“Guess what I heard (Y/N)’s bodyguard say to her after she gave me her mic while she was leaving?” A young twenty-something sound girl whispered to one of her stagehand friends.

“Omg what?”

“She told him, and I shit you not: ‘touching you is a part of my job princess’.” She revealed in a whisper shout as her and her friend continued to shut down and pack up their equipment. Making her friend gasp in surprise.

“No way!”

“Yes way!”

“They’re totally fucking.”

“You guys are reading too much into it.” A third, male stagehand joined in on the conversation. “They probably just joke around like that.”

“I don’t believe that.” The second girl shook her head at the male’s claim. “Did you see the way he was looking at her last night during rehearsal? He looked like he wanted to pounce her.”

“He looked like he was irritated, he always looks like that around her.” He retorted at the explanation, “I have no idea why she’s a sweetheart.”

“Didn’t seem like one when she was talking to him or her manager.” The first girl piped in.

“She’s probably stressed and tired, I would be too if I had to sing and dance for two hours straight.” The male defended as the three finished up, and began making their way to the break room. “I’d be so overwhelmed-“

“Wait shush.” The second girl quickly interrupted him as they turned down where your dressing room was, and despite the walls being nowhere near paper thin, the muffled sound of their voices would surely leak through.

They had almost fully passed by the door when they heard a thud, followed by a groan, making the three stagehands stop in their tracks.

“Do you think one of them got hurt?” The male asked in a low whisper as the three glanced at each other, but none had a chance to answer before they heard-

“Just get this dress off of me already!”

“Hold still princess, you're so impatient.”

“No fucking way…” One of the girls whispered in disbelief, her ears turning pink at the implication of the words they had heard.

“Your hands are too big!”

“Stop squirming, you're only making this harder for yourself.”

“Wait wait, don't pull on my hair like that.”

“Sorry princess, it’s not my fault.”

The two girls had to cover their mouths to stop themselves from gasping, meanwhile all their male friend/coworker could do was stare at the door as his brain blue screened. Not even noticing when your manager came around the corner, about to enter your dressing room but stopped when he noticed the door was locked.

“Miguel!”

“Don’t whine like that sweetheart. Someone’s gonna hear you.”

“Don’t forget, you three signed NDAs.” He whispered the reminder with an unphased look, as he turned to the three young adults, pointing at the threm before shooing them away.

—

“Be careful, don’t rip it.” You bit on your lips as your eyes wandered to the ceiling, one of your now bare feet impatiently tapped away on the fluffy dressing room carpet.

“This is the fourth time since the tour started that your zipper has broken, I think it’s time you either switch to your other outfit or you get a new wardrobe department.” Miguel mumbled as he continued to tugged on the malfunctioning zipper with furrowed brows, yet to no avail.

“I love this dress though, my back up one is ugly.” You whined, head tilting backwards making your hair fall back from your shoulders. Making Miguel immediately brush it back to rest on your shoulder so it didn’t get caught on the zipper again. “Can’t you just go get Lyla?” You asked in irritation, knowing your stylist and head of wardrobe would have had you out of this dress five minutes ago.

“Most of the staff had left on the other bus already.” He told you, dropping his hand to stretch his fingers out a bit. “We’ve got twenty minutes.”

“Well they can’t leave without me.” You reminded him harshly, turning to face him, grabbing at the bottom of the dress as you began pulling it up from your thighs. “Fuck it…I’m just gonna pull it off, I don’t care if Lyla gets mad.”

“You didn’t have to turn around, if you just want an excuse to strip in front of me just say so princess.” Miguel teased with a smirk, eyes shamelessly roaming your now semi naked body from behind his sunglasses, eyes immediately falling to your small heart tattoo on your hip that was peaking out from your panties. Knowing if he ever saw someone look at you the way he was right now, he’d make sure they’d never see ever again.

“Stop being a perv and help me pull this over my head.” You bit back.

“You gonna ask me to join you in the shower too?” He joked teasing, but did as told. Fixing the dress once it was off your body to pack as you took off your bra and panties, dropping them to the floor as you rushed into the restroom.

“You wished.” You scoffed, immediately stepping into the shower. “Don’t spend too much time sniffing my panties while you finish packing my shit!”

—

After the rushed shower, you both finally made your way to the second tour bus a little bit after midnight, luckily the paparazzi had already left believing you were on the first bus. Giving you the privilege of wearing your pjs and your crocs to the bus rather than something more photo acceptable.

Exhaustion has finally begun to settle in as you wrapped your pink fuzzy blanket around yourself to prevent the cold Neuva York air from nipping at your skin too much, but despite your blankets best efforts, you still shook slightly as you crossed the mostly empty parking lot. Tired eyes grew heavier with each passing second.

“Hey.” Miguel mumbled as he noticed your eyes closing for a few seconds too long for his liking, nudging you slightly with his elbow before removing his hand from his jacket pocket to wrap it around your shaking shoulders. “Don’t fall asleep on me now, we’re almost there.”

You just let out a hum as you rested your head on his side, closing your eyes as you let him lead you to the bus.

“I’m not gonna carry you, so don’t stop walking.” He lied, his own voice a bit rougher than normal.

“You always say that.” You mumbled, voice meek compared to its usual feisty tone you always gave him.

“I know.” He agreed, pausing in front of the bus steps to help you up, standing behind you in case you misstepped. Greeting the driver and your manager with a nod as he trailed behind you. Dropping your duffle bag on the bus’s little couch, before turning to you. “I’m going to go change, go to your bunk bed and go to sleep.”

“No, ” You immediately shook your head, wrapping your blanket tighter around your figure. “I wanna cuddle.” You mumbled, big tired eyes looking up at Miguel almost expectantly. Making the bodyguard let out a sigh, as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Princess you know we can’t fit on the beds together.” He lowered his voice to a soft whisper as he leaned in a bit closer. “And I’m not going to sleep on the couch, my back will hurt in the morning.” He explained gently, as if explaining to a crying child, and by the whine that left your throat, it surely left like it too.

“Please. Just tonight.” You begged, and if it weren’t for the fact your exhausted state making you so much of an actual sweetheart to him compared to your usual attitude, he would have said no.

“Okay, okay fine.” He sighed, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face, heart swelling when your pout turned into a smile . “Let me get changed first, okay?”

“Okay.” You replied, going to sit on the couch as you waited, thankful it only took him a few seconds. Returning in a pair of grey sweats and a black tank top.

“You owe me a back rub in the morning.” He muttered, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you into his chest as you spread your blanket over yourselves.

“You two are going to get me in a hell of a media circus one day…” Your manager mumbled under his breath as soon as he was sure you both were asleep. Not missing the way you inched a bit closer to lay on Miguel’s chest better, or the way Miguel’s hand twitched to hold your waist a bit more snug.

[valenteal]

Just got into the apothecary diaries (finished watching it in like 2 days lol) and I have to say I am surprised that apparently there’s some discourse about the nature of JinMao’s relationship?

Like… both of them are obviously on the ace spectrum. Because Jinshi is so down bad people seem to forget that he’s very much on there too. It’s not just that he takes medicine to “suppress his manhood.” He is surrounded by the most gorgeous women who are constantly throwing themselves at him or are just generally being as sexy as possible because it’s literally their job, and the man has no reaction. The only reason he’s so affected when Maomao dresses up is because he’s not used to seeing her like that, if he’d met her when she was all dolled up he probably wouldn’t have batted an eye.

Furthermore, what he wants from Maomao doesn’t seem to me to be inherently sexual, he just oozes sex appeal like a slug does mucus and that colors all his actions to everyone else, including Maomao. He uses this strategically and does it on purpose sometimes but he isn’t totally aware of it when he isn’t purposefully trying, hence the honey scene (this is my interpretation). What he wants from Maomao is emotional connection that goes both ways. He gave her the hairpin so that he could be the one to let her go home and expected nothing in return, it was never a proposition. He was jealous that she went to another man for the same thing and didn’t seem to think it was sexual until Maomao herself insinuated that it was, which shocked him greatly. This scene is so hilarious that it’s easy to miss that subtext, but his jealousy was always over perceived emotional connection and reliance on another man and he actually calmed down once he understood that the whole affair was transactional and Maomao didn’t give any sexual favors herself. When he meets with the guy again later he gets mad when he says that Maomao let her guard down around him (which she didn’t). Jinshi may be a bit touchy but that’s part of his personality and likely a manifestation of his desire for emotional connection more than physical intimacy.

Anyway my point is that JinMao is a great ship between two demisexual/acespec individuals and I am totally here for it! Maomao may say that she left love behind in the womb but I don’t think that means she’s aromantic, just that her childhood trauma has made her severely emotionally closed off and her journey includes healing and learning to love again.

[aquamarinemarie]

Detecting Solavellan

I think it's quite fitting, actually, that it's Sera and Vivienne who first notice Lavellan and Solas making eyes at one another.

For Sera it makes total sense she notices the bond forming between Solas and Lavellan early on due to her vocal distaste for all things elfy; and honestly, what could possibly be more elfy than a couple of elfy elves getting it on?

"I've seen how you look at him. You're in it. Bet he calls out "Elven glory" when he does it." - Sera

Sera: So, you and the Lady Inquisitor. Interesting. Solas: Your interest is not my concern. Sera: That's all right, because I meant boring. The elf always takes the elf so that bumping bits will mean something. Solas: It is not a topic for discussion. Sera: Oh, come on. Drop 'em and rebuild the empire. Phwoar! Lavellan: (Laughter) You're ridiculous. Sera: Not me. It's him! And you. Solas: Only one of us is looking sad and foolish, Sera. Sera: Oh, go twang your ears!

Sera's casual mocking aside, I'd say that she seems to genuinely find the relationship offensive.

For Vivienne, well, she's a player of the Game, and she finds Solas to be... suspicious. To say the least.

"I don't know what to make of Solas. So much knowledge and so little personal history... I find that... peculiar, don't you?" - Vivienne

"Is it my imagination, dear, or have certain... lingering looks passed between you and our Solas?" - Vivienne

Regardless, Madame de Fer isn't about to openly mock Lavellan for her choice of lovers, as that would be terribly foolish of her; and Vivienne is no fool. So, why risk bringing it up? Why comment on Lavellan's love life at all?

Two possibilities.

First, if Vivienne doesn't like or even respect the Inquisitor, she may be letting Lavellan know that she's got something on her. Since Lavellan's relationship with Solas may potentially be damaging, or at the very least, embarrassing.

The Herald of Andraste - cavorting with some random hedge mage!? Scandalous. You'd hear the gasps and pearl-clutching all the way from Val Royeaux if such a thing were ever to get out.

Vivienne's comment here could easily be interpreted as a threat, so Lavellan, if she's wise, should play nice.

Secondly, and more charitably, if Vivienne likes or admires the Inquisitor, she may very well be subtly warning Lavellan that she's letting her personal life bleed out into the public.

Lavellan's Dalish face is far too open; and people are going to start talking if she doesn't learn to wear a mask. (Too late, they already are. Just ask the barman. 😂)

Vivienne's comment could just as easily be interpreted as truly well-intentioned. A gentle, somewhat teasing reminder of sorts to be on guard. To be mindful of her surroundings. The Inquisitor has enemies after all, and her relationship with Solas, like it or not, is a political vulnerability.

Personally, I like to think Vivienne is looking out for Lavellan, since my Inquisitor and Madame de Fer become good friends.

But that is neither here nor there.

I just think it's funny the two people who first note that Solas and Lavellan have feelings for one another, are the two that don't particularly like or trust Solas.