#you cannot possibly convince me she's straight

[cyberpunkboytoy]

Your honor she likes women

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Could you do some headcanons of a Mc reader dating the BB League Elite 4 + Kieran but miraidon gets super jealous.

It gets to the point where they get out of their Pokeball to growl �� them.

Amarys

While she isn't too good at expressing emotions herself, she can read the emotions of others quite well.

Apparently this extends to Pokémon, especially after she notices your Miraidon acting rather irate around her. It even got to the point where they kept bursting from their pokeball to growl at her whenever you're together.

"It seems your Agias has suddenly grown a dislike for me, [y/n]." She remarked one day. "But I cannot figure out why..have I done something to upset them recently?"

"Nothing that I know of. Although I think it's worth mentioning that they're actually called Miraidon, not Agias."

"..is that so? Then I will correct this error right away."

Both of you think that after she apologizes, the problem would be resolved...yet it continues, with Miraidon always budging into your conversations, trying to get you on their back and fly/drive off without warning, etc.

All of this happens despite there being no danger present.

Eventually, you chalk up their protective nature to one probable cause: Jealousy.

You were spending more time with Amarys, and perhaps that made your futuristic companion worried you'll spend less with them.

When you brought this up to your gf, she's surprised and isn't too sure how to resolve this..

Considering she's new to relationships, she didn't expect a Pokémon of all things to become so jealous of her.

You end up suggesting that the two bonded (outside of timed flying trials of course) so that they could learn to trust her more.

Despite lacking emotional depth, she still tries her best, knowing this would greatly benefit all three of you in the long run if you were going to continue dating.

Crispin

"Hey uh..your Pokémon is giving me a funny look again.....w-was the sandwich too spicy for them? I can always turn down the heat."

He's straight-up convinced that Miraidon is mad at him because he's making their sandwich the wrong way.

So he keeps changing up the ingredients, hoping to satisfy them (yet it doesn't help when they keep popping out of the pokeball and scaring him).

You've figured out ages ago that they were simply jealous of how much time you were spending with your new bf.

Alas, you're dating a chef who's not only a hothead, but an airhead as well.

"Do you think your Miraidon and Magmortar got into an argument? Because they keep staring at him like they wanna rip him apart..haha.."

"No, honey..it's you, not your Pokémon."

"....ohhh so you're saying I got into an argument with Miraidon! Yeah that makes sense..I did sorta lose my cool with them the other day..."

Sometimes you wonder if a bonk from that frying pan of his would help knock some sense into him....

Instead, though, you just have him sit down in the club room while you explain Miraidon's jealousy in detail.

Crispin finally understands and immediately feels bad (and a little dumb knowing it took him this long to realize it). He's rushing to apologize to your companion, promising to make them the best sandwich possible--hot or not.

He still gets nervous about kissing you/holding your hand when they're nearby, often feeling the need to hide behind the pan.

But you reassure him it's okay.

Drayton

Tbh he kinda relishes in the huffy demeanor your Miraidon has been displaying in recent days.

The way they gnash their teeth, circle around him, make sparks fly, hover over you, and light up their eyes as though preparing to use Electro Drift...

Yep, despite how flashy and futuristic they are...all Drayton sees is another dragon type Pokémon who's throwing temper tantrums.

And being such chill guy around dragons, he has no fear and instead teases them behind your back, getting them riled up.

"Oh c'mon. You don't scare me. I know you've been looking out for [y/n]...and watching them hang out with Kingdra and Archaludon-"

"Agiiaaassss.."

"...there it is." He laughs. "Look, I'm not "stealing" them from ya. So let's just try to get along for their sake, alright?"

"......"

"Right. I knew we'd come to an understandin'."

Somehow, the two are VERY good at hiding this little grudge from you, although you have noticed Miraidon being more protective than usual over you whenever Drayton's around.

But it boils over when they saw you shining his Archaludon's armor while on a picnic date, throwing a fit and almost having a fullblown battle with each other without either of you at the helm.

Luckily, all the other dragons on your team diffused the situation...

You're a little bit outraged (pun not intended) that Drayton never told you of Miraidon's jealousy issues--and that he was taunting them for it.

"C'mon, they know I'm only kidding around."

"...our Pokémon almost broke the damn table."

"I'll pay for the damages."

"I think you're missing the point here, babe.."

Lacey

From the moment she started showing you around the school...she wondered why Miraidon was acting weird.

Her first thought was that they could sense her being a fairy type trainer, but she isn't sure what to do about that, so she keeps quiet.

But after you two started dating, they grew more protective of you and jealous of her..and it's something she notices waaaay before you do.

After it gets to the point of them jumping out of their pokeball to scare her (and quickly go back in without you seeing them), her nerves were shot.

Even so, she doesn't want you to worry. So she keeps trying to be friendly towards them, but it's hard.

Doesn't help that Granbull is being quite sassy towards the electric/dragon type, too, growing just as protective over Lacey as they are over you.

And ofc she has to quell their argument before things turn ugly...and one day, it almost did.

"I'm sorry, but this is NOT right!" She crosses her arms, standing between the two Pokémon. "Granbull, I know you're better than this. And Miraidon, I know you don't trust me, but you need to-"

"What's going on, Lace?"

"!!!"

You were gone for all but two minutes, and you come back to your poor gf trying to stop a Pokémon battle from taking place.

Finally, she admits that Miraidon has been acting extremely jealous and it's made her nervous.

You feel terrible for not realizing this sooner, and promise to speak to your companion about it.

Least to say..you wind up coddling them and giving them treats, reassuring them you'll still pay attention to them--but they had to be nice to Lacey and not antagonize her fairies.

Reluctantly, they agree on the condition of getting a sandwich everyday.

Kieran

Considering Miraidon saved his life, it was definitely strange when that same Pokémon now seemingly hated his guts..

This all happened the moment you and him starting dating, with them popping out of the pokeball (and not because he mentioned sandwiches) and growling before you could share your first kiss.

It was embarrassing for Kieran, and he doesn't know how to earn their trust back.

He just muddles over the fact that he was...definitely less-than-kind to you, their trainer, back before the trip to Area Zero.

He said things to you that he didn't mean, things he regretted saying..and suddenly he wonders if Miraidon could have possibly heard all of that.

If they could hear you both discussing sandwiches, then surely....

It genuinely starts to stress him out, as he's trying so hard to make amends with everyone and not be hated anymore.

And yet he seemed to be forgiven by all...except for Miraidon.

Maybe they even regret saving him

You notice that your bf is starting to cower behind you at their presence, being scared to look them in the eye, etc.

Eventually, you get him to confess that he thinks your companion despises him, and the guilt resurfaces enough to make him cry, kneeling and pleading for their forgiveness.

But you comfort and reassure him that Miraidon's only jealous of you two spending so much time together.

"R-Really? That's all it was...?"

"Yep. I already gave them a stern talking to." You help him stand up. "I'm sorry they keep coming off as aggressive. They just gotta warm up to you a little more, that's all."

"So they don't..hate me?"

"Nope."

After that, Kieran tries his best to earn the dragon type's respect, becoming a bit braver with each interaction.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Frances Dee (Becky Sharpe, Little Women)—no propaganda submitted

Ingrid Bergman (Gaslight, Casablanca, Notorious)—Where do I even begin with Ingrid Bergman? I fell in love with her with her astounding performance in the 1956 version of Anastasia -- the best Anastasia movie in large part due to her wonderful and touching performance. She's got this amazing, fascinating intensity to her in whatever role she's in. She commits 100%, and she's got this light in whatever she's in that's stunning. She's utterly convincing no matter what she plays, from an amnesiac possible lost princess, from a nun, from a woman taking her revenge on the town that wronged her, to light romantic comedy. She's never missed in any role I've seen her in! Also she became quite the MILF.

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Frances Dee:

Ingrid Bergman:

God, she's fantastic. She's both beautiful and a compelling actor who's more than capable of putting the whole movie on her shoulders if necessary. It's worth noting that while her beauty is conventional, she was seen as refreshingly "natural" with more eyebrows and less makeup than many other leading ladies of the time. She's well known for her role in Casablanca, but in Notorious, Spellbound, (both available on archive.org ) and Gaslight (1944) she shows how immensely capable she is. [editor's note: I've seen all of these movies and I think they're fine, but it's been a minute, so I can't thoroughly tag for trigger warnings or officially "recommend"—as always, go forth with caution when a movie is mentioned in a propaganda submission, and don't take a mention as an official recommendation of this blog.]

I mean...she's Ingrid Bergman. I feel like that should be enough, you know? She's physically beautiful (her eyes!) but watching her is like a transcendent experience. Her voice, her expressions... beautiful woman, beautiful actor.

I'm a gay man but even I understand her appeal. I'll watch any movie she shows up in. Gorgeous woman.

Just try and watch her movies without sighing wistfully, then get back to me!

Choosing 1-3 movies where Bergman was at her hottest was agony because, of course, she was always at her hottest. Not just because she was beautiful but because she was absolutely willing to go up against the bs women in Hollywood were constantly dealing with. When exiled from Hollywood for having an affair with Roberto Rossellini, not only did she refuse to apologize at any point, but she went on to say that Hollywood's films had grown stagnant and boring to her. Though she said she appreciated her time working there, she wanted to try new, different techniques (hence starring in Italian neorealist films, working on stage, and acting under directors like Ingmar Bergman). She was not afraid to chase after her artistic ideals and go outside the box regardless of what society had to say about it. From her first movie to her last she killed it. There's so much more to say about Bergman's career and life, but I've already written five million words so I'll stop at that.

One of the most incredible actors I've ever seen on film. Her facial expressions are so intricate and poignant that I cannot look away. I'm either ace or straight, but damn she made me question that.

SEVEN TIME OSCAR NOMINEE QUEEN. Girl also PULLED, having affairs with famously hot men Gary Cooper and Gregory Peck IN ADDITION to her three marriages...sexy

She has a very natural beauty to her, and she's from Sweden!

She left Hollywood and only became more beautiful. You could drown in her eyes. She can look innocent AND like she's seen it all. She is effortlessly elegant. She's played Joan of Arc (automatically hot) AND was in the movie that coined gaslight as a term. And where would we be without that!

She was known for being a breath of fresh air on the movie scene at the time with her windswept hair, dreamy smile and soulful eyes. I have loved her in every movie I have seen her in - she was just magnetic!

Where do I even start. There's a neighborly quality to this beautiful, talented actress that makes her hotness one of a kind and her looks impossible to forget

With a career spanning five decades, Bergman is often regarded as one of the most influential screen figures in cinematic history. Known for her naturally luminous beauty, Bergman spoke five languages – Swedish, English, German, Italian and French – and acted in each.

She's hot, don't get me wrong, but I've always found her very approachable, like she could easily be a member of my friend group

A lot of the time hotness in a movie is just about words and framing. "You're the most beautiful person here" [vaseline lens] well I sure hope so because that's who you cast. But when, in Casablanca, they call Ingrid Bergman the most beautiful woman in the world... they were not fucking lying. And such a dynamite actor too!! I'd only seen Casablanca up until last year, and there she's confined to love interest. But in Gaslight she was maybe one of the most incredible actors I've ever seen!!!! Goddddd shes so fucking hot and cool.

[riggedbones]

some consequence doodles from umm the last week or so? idk lol. anyways some notes about each of them:

hey wait thats not consequence... yet

a lot of people draw loop in fun outfits and i thought that'd be fun with consequence but im ngl... i think it would just go straight to wearing the most comfortable stuff imaginable after its actually possible to wear stuff. it cannot physically give a fuck anymore. crab with her.

testing to see if there's a normal head under that cloud of rectangles. answer is no.

like looking in a really shit mirror. no way you could ever be anything like that.

in my mind i usually have consequence keeping the objecthead postcanon (see 2) but human consequence is also pretty funny to me. it kind of misses the objecthead if its being completely honest. odile is 100% breaking the fourth wall here she is convinced that siffrin and loop are like 10x more blorboable. potentially true

[fatallucidity]

I’ve been wanting to rant about this scene for a whiiiile chat. So here goes. This is from chapter 85. I’m a Loki simp so I just gotta.

I cannot get over the adorable art style change here!! He just looks so cute and playful. Yes, he’s always playful and laid back, but with Hilde, he just seems more…. Genuine. Like this is him actually trying to be friendly and make her smile. He often smiles maliciously when being snide or passive aggressive with Odin, especially when poking fun at him. Here, his smile just looks so much different. He looks pretty different from the start of the series, but it’s a very pleasant change. He still got those hips plus those amazing arms.

Hilde looks so pretty in that panel. Like my girl is just so gorgeous. I also love how Loki seems to want to actually help her. Gotta love his goofy poses.

The height difference is silly-

Also Loki trying convince her some more.

I CANNOT WITH THIS HILDE FRAME. She looks so beautiful. Whatever artist is drawing these oh so slayful lips on Beel and Hilde, I thank you.

Loki looks more sly here like he’s planning on doing more than just saving her. He just looks so smug, he thinks he’s convincing her. I just love when he floats around. He looks so cute and hot at the same time. THOSE HIIIIIIIPS THAT BACK CUUUURVE.

I’m still not quite sure how to interpret his little jig here lmao. Like Loki baby what’re you doing there??? It’s interesting how he claims to be better at convincing Odin than most, then asks her for a special favor.

I’m not surprised she interpreted this as being a transaction. He did certainly insinuate something, but given his reaction, he wasn’t trying to get her to hand over her body. His reaction is kind of adorable. He looks so flustered like “what did you just say-“ Possible Loki respecting women? Not confirmed really, given the whole doll thi-

Hilde my beloved. Straight up doesn’t care if she dies, since she knows that’s how Ragnarok works. Loki just looks so frustrated.

Here we get a glimpse of how petty Loki really is. He knew Siegfried is a sensitive spot for Hilde, he knew saying that would piss her off, that’s why he did it. In the exact moment she refused, he panicked and just reacted with pettiness to try and convince her to go along with his plan to save her. This shows us he really isn’t that mature. While he’s extremely intelligent and cunning, very sharp witted and analytical, he’s just immature in the long run. Loki deep down is petty and cunning in ways that gets people to do what he wants. Lemme remind y’all of season two of the anime when he’s fighting Buddha, Kondou, Sasaki, and Okita.

“Things don’t just go our way. We make it happen.”

This scene also perplexes me. He’s seems excited to learn about this, but probably because he’s planning something malicious. He knows Siegfried is her lover, and he’s filing that away for evil plans to get at her, maybe even to try and kill Siegfried. If he takes out her lover, he might think she feels all alone and will be more inclined to go to him for help. The art here is just amazing too. That panel of him looking stunned mid smile is mwahhh.

Once again. Her LIIIPS. MWAHS. she looks amazing as ever. Her cold response is expected. She sees Loki as the enemy given he’s a god who’s against saving humanity. My goodness his reaction is so sad. Like he’s just stunned at how unfeeling she is towards him. Once again Loki, immaturity won’t do shit.

Anyways, there’s my rant. I’ve used up the mobile image limit lmaoooo. I might talk about this more, but this just got me thinking, especially with the sad panel of Loki from the new chapter. Hope yall enjoyed, thanks for coming to me Ted talk

[snowprincesa1]

{A Fool of A Brother (2/2)}

//Grown!Daemon x Grown!F!Arryn!Reader//

Summary: Daemon just cannot bring himself to let you go

[Trigger warnings‼️ contains NSFW and Daemon]

Daemon insisted that your presence was necessary in kingslanding, stating that it would be good for the Queen’s health.

“It would be excellent for her marriage prospects as well” Daemon said to king Viserys in the comfort of his bedchamber where he sculpted listening to his brother trying to convince him to keep you in the red keep them send you back.

“Daemon, Do you like the girl?” He asked aiming straight for the head. Daemon stayed quiet not knowing what to say or admit

“No. She’s far too different from me, we clash at every corner” he sighed. He later said it would be best to keep you by the queen’s side instead of rotting in the Vale with the painfully dry Vale men. Daemon had somehow managed to stall his marriage to Rhea Royce for even longer keeping the ‘bronze bitch’ in the vale single and unwed.

Daemon had grown much more taller whereas you remained the same height, he grew from a lean teenager to a muscled prince, now when Daemon takes you on walks with your hand resting on his arm you swear you feel muscle and it sends a shameful shiver of lust down your spine. Were you so easily swayed by a man who was both lean and had some muscle? You shook away thoughts of him. You remained relatively the same, gaining more of a womanly figure if anything. You still wore a light veil over the back of your hair with a jewelled headband at the front. You grew quite popular amongst the lords and ladies being unwed you had many eyes on you. You spent your days reading, praying, embroidering and talking with the ladies and being in the company of your sister. The red keep felt like home.

You were praying in a Sept finding a minute of peace when you heard familiar foot steps, you didn’t have to look back to tell who it is “Daemon, go away” You said your hands still clasped together as you tried to concentrate on your prayer. “Are you praying again?” He asked, Was it not obvious? You opened your eyes to send him a glare to which he responded with a cheeky smile. Her sat beside you watching you pray “are you done now?” He asked impatiently. You couldn’t pray with daemon breathing down your neck.

“What is it?” You snapped in irritation, Daemon remained unphased. “I have something for you” you groaned in response “If it is a toad again I will kill you”

“Threatening to murder the commander of the city watch and the prince of the seven kingdoms. You could never change” He smirked “You’re like a tree forever stuck in one spot until someone uproots you”

“If i am not mistaken a tree symbolises qualities like wisdom and stability” You retorted

“None of which you have” he quickly added before smiling smugly “turn around for me” He instructed. You hesitantly turned your back to him when you heard the sound of metal and suddenly felt cold steel at the base of your neck. “Valyrian steel” you gasped looking at the necklace “where did you get this—“

“I had it made for you. I cannot bear to see your neck so bare” he sighed dramatically. Oh yes, another aspect of daemon which came unexpectedly was his protectiveness over you. If your wore anything revealing he would keep an eye out for the lords, the guards, everyone! “You are the pervert, Daemon” You would laugh. He would accompany you everywhere if possible much to your annoyance. If you headed out? He would send his finest guard’s or accompany you himself to the seamstress,,, he said it was his duty as he was the one who took you from the sulking weather of the Vale, which you so happened to miss fondly.

You stayed in kingslanding for about six whole years, now a woman of twenty two and you somehow missed the Vale like a child, you missed your half brother Elys and the rest of your friends there. Your sister Aemma was going through hell losing babies over and over and giving birth to stillborns. You begged Viserys to let Aemma be but he said having a male heir is the duty of the king. Rhaenyra was growing up nicely, she being absolutely fond of you. The hand’s daughter Alicent visited the red keep as well, the two girls often following your trail and copying your mannerisms. Especially Alicent, who was also a devout follower of the faith.

Daemon was..Daemon, he carried out his commander duties brutally maiming almost half the city in a span of single night. Of course it was only the ones deserving of punishment who were tortured, Daemon had single-handedly lessened the crimes in Kings landing. He preferred to spend his night sleeping around with whores in the streets of silk. Daemon’s taste was peculiar, before he had met you he always preferred women with silver Valyrian hair. One night he saw a consort who had the same colour of your hair, not quite the same texture but the thought of you as bare as her sent blood rushing to his lower half. He shamelessly ended up fucking the woman from the back imagining your moans and cries instead of hers. He came with your name on his lips. It wasn’t the same, he wanted to know what you felt like, whether you would be a brat or submissive. Mysaria ended up dying her hair the same colour as yours for Daemon but nothing worked she could never get the prince to look away from you.

Daemon tried so hard to seduce you. His failed attempts were pitiful, you were dead set on following the proper traditions that is sharing a bed with a husband. Daemon could not understand how you managed to push him away? When thoughts of you had stayed in his mind throughout all his days and it was driving him mad. For some reason one day he ended up ‘hugging’ you from behind, in all honesty it was a tackle to annoy you. His head buried in your neck as he tried to keep you still and stop you from whatever the hell you were doing. The scent of you was too much for him, too sweet, now he knew what you smelt like upclose and he wanted more. The prince practically rushed out of the room to deal with his growing ‘problem’ that would keep him occupied for the rest of the day. Your relationship with Daemon was weird, you fought like cats and dogs but yet there’s no one else you would rather spend your time with. Hell you even missed him when he went away. Whenever Viserys was mad at Daemon you would put in a word and calm him down, it was very odd how soft you had grown for Daemon. And Aemma and viserys were not blind to it. Daemon would attend dinners you did and sit by your side, ‘accidentally’ grazing your hands reaching for a dish or passing you the wine. It was driving you insane, these little touches his rough hand gently touching yours, you were not blind to how handsome he had grown. The Gods would have to forgive you for lusting over a betrothed man.

The temptation Daemon posed over you, like a hanging fruit in sight but out of reach for you. He was doing it on purpose you knew, you weren’t daft but God did it work. You started growing jealous about the fact that Daemon spent his nights in brothels, complaining about how it wasn’t right and princely but deep down you were just bitter with jealousy.

Daemon always believed that he was immune to jealousy delusional but that was proved wrong for Rhaenyra’s seventh name day. It was decided that a tourney be held for the Realm’s Delight. Rhaenyra was a mischievous one, often teasing her uncle with you regardless of the lords and ladies in her presence and that set off even more rumours about the two of you, but no one dare say anything to you fearing the rage of Daemon and Caraxes.

You knew daemon was to participate for the tourney so you didn’t bother searching for him in the morning. He was undoubtedly practicing and you didn’t want to disturb him. You were to sit next to your sister Aemma but you suddenly saw a familiar face from the Vale, lords of the Vale had come to participate and bet on the winners. You looked at your sister in delight, it was she who planned this for you because she knew how much you had missed the Vale. You took your seat next to a minor Vale lord talking to him and catching up on all that had happened.

Daemon was watching from the stands as the squire put on his night black Targaryen armour. He looked to see you looking so beautiful in a light purple gown, looking so radiant in the sunlight and then he saw the disgusting man next to you and he saw red. Rhaenyra didn’t help either, she was visibly mocking Daemon motioning kissing signs between you and the lord enraging him even more. He knew you were unwed, he hoped you would not fall for some unknown lord of the Vale.

“You should come back to the Vale, you have spent far too much time here in kingslanding” your friend Gerald said

“I suppose that is true..almost seven years” you muttered “but I’ve been happy” you said looking at Daemon who was getting on his horse.

“You are a maiden of twenty two and still unwed, you should start living for yourself instead of just tending to the Royal family, I’m not saying it’s necessary to marry to be happy..but think of the long run” he said, Gerald cared for you and did not wish for you to be a spinster.

“I know Gerald” you sighed

“You have been waiting for him..but he is betrothed, to another” he said “come back to the Vale perhaps then you could come back to your senses” he said.

“What— prince Daemon? For the last time there is absolutely nothing going on—”

“That I know, and that is the problem. He’s not yours and you’re here all doe eyed waiting for him” you felt all the fire in your soul dampen at his words, the hopes and delusions you had been clinging onto desperately being pulled from beneath you “I did not mean to upset you”

“I’m not upset” you said blinking away tears. Perhaps Gerald was right..you certainly didn’t want him to be. You missed the Vale, a quick trip wouldn’t hurt. It would be rid of Daemon and you can think for yourself and come to your senses just like Gerald said.

“Gerald can I ask you for a favour?” You asked leaning in to tell him something to which he willingly agreed to.

Rhaenyra yelled something in high Valyrian mocking Daemon that made ser Harold have to gently escort her away from the stands. Away from the already fuming prince. What were you saying to that lord? He was upset with the lord and he was upset with you. He decided to get revenge he knew you would expect him to ask you for your favour like he did in the other tourneys but he decided to play with you a little. When riding his horse his lance stopped before you almost as though asking you for your favour, you were about to stand to give him it— when he suddenly tilted the lance towards another woman. The woman blushing gave him her favour willingly. Daemon’s looked at you smirking all the while as he felt as though he had the upper hand. Your face was a mixture of shock and jealousy.

Gerald leaned in “I told you” he said before your face completely fell in sadness. You looked away from daemon. Daemon should have relished seeing you upset like he did at that moment, but instead it tore him up in the inside. It was too late now, he would have to apologise for this he knew. Lord Gerald spent the rest of the tourney cheering you up and you even ended up giving your favour to a lord from the Vale itself, but of course he was upstaged by daemon’s battle skill. Daemon felt like he had lost seeing as to how you ignored him. When the tourney ended Daemon had won. He raised his lance in the air listening to the claps of the audience. He turned to look at you but saw that your seat was empty. You were now sitting back next to your sister telling her something, Aemma looked upset but seemed to agree nonetheless. The feast would be a perfect opportunity to try and make up for what he’d done, perhaps he could kiss your hurt better, he fantasised for himself as the squire took off his armour. How would your lips feel on his?. God forbid he sees you with that lord, he’d probably pull you away there and then and take you somewhere more private where just the two of you could spend time..but then again you’d never allow it. Daemon was surprisingly introverted, only ever trusting a few of his guards and his family and never bothered to converse with anyone else. You on the other hand though reserved, loved making conversation and talking to all the people. He thought more about you, a part of him felt smug over the fact that you were upset that he didn’t ask for your favour. Perhaps instead of apologising…he should tease you. Yes that would be much more preferable.

Daemon arrived late to the banquet, nothing unusual making his way into the hall stealing the attention from Viserys as usual. Rhaenyra was busy eating the lemon cakes, Daemon looked around he didn’t see you— anywhere for that matter? Were you so upset you were crying in your bedchambers? He should go see you and kiss your tears away if you let him of course.

He didn’t want to ask Viserys where you were, as the king already had doubts that he bore affections for you and he wanted to avoid providing his older brother more information on how he feels for you. Daemon slid his way to the dessert section where little Rhaenyra was, Rhaenyra looked up at her uncle with a smirk.

“Where is she?” He asked folding his arms

“With lord Gerar- Gerarld” she completely destroyed his name as she put a spoonful of cake in her mouth. Daemon couldn’t believe what this had come to, getting teased and mocked by his niece. He sends her a glare before taking the plate from little Rhaenyra as his pitiful sort of revenge. “That’s mine!” Rhaenyra yelled as he walked away.

He looked around to see Aemma and Viserys give him a look for taking a plate of cake from their seven year old daughter. She deserved it, he thought. He took a piece of cake eating it as he walked to his brother.

“Where’s the lady Arryn, she’s late” he said “I think you should let me discipline her for her tardiness..it’s unfitting for a lady like her” he said pulling a chair next to the married couple who he third wheeled. The Gods, Viserys and Aemma just wanted him to marry and go away at this point.

“Lady Arryn? I have no idea” Viserys said “and no you will assort no punishment of any sort” he said

Daemon looked to Queen Aemma who averted her gaze somewhere else “you know something regarding this, my queen?” He asked leaning on the table to intimidate her and get a response

“Don’t bother my wife..” Viserys sighed smoothening his scrunched up forehead.

“Does nobody in this fucking hall know where she is?!” He yelled causing the lords and ladies to look at his outburst. “Excuse me brother” he said leaving the banquet hall. He stormed out essentially. He was going to march up in your room but for some reason he had a bad feeling in his gut..why were you late? You were never late? The headache you caused him. He pushed open your bedchamber doors wide.

“You! Where have you been!” He asked “you didn’t congratulate me on my win or tend to me when I fell off my horse” he scolded you “what are you doing?” He asked with wide eyes, bags, packed bags. Your room was being emptied. “What is all this?” A handmaiden entered the room to take another bag wherever.

“I’m leaving Daemon” you said “is it not obvious?”

“No. No I will not allow it”

“I do not need YOUR PERMISSION and it’s already decided”

“What of your sister? What if she becomes with child again? She would need you by her side?”

“Daemon— she has maesters and—”

“What of Rhaenyra? The girl looks up to you! And you are just leaving like that!” Daemon sighed exasperated waking closer to you but still a distance apart

“I’m going to the Vale. I’m going home. You would not understand because you’ve lived here all your life! I miss home. I cannot be here any longer” Lie. You were running away because you could no longer wait around hoping that one day Daemon might cancel his betrothal and somehow marry you instead. Stupid dreams and fantasies.

‘Your home is here with us, with me’ is what Daemon wanted to say “you want to go to the Vale? Let us go on Caraxes!” He yelled

“I don’t want to!”

Daemon’s anger morphed into realisation.

“You don’t want to be around me” he said chuckling why else would you reject his excellent idea, who would give up a ride on a dragon? “Have I bothered you to the point you have to run away from me? When have you been such a craven!”

“Why shouldn’t I go!”

“I just told you the reasons!” Daemon yelled back “your sister! The queen! Your niece! Viserys!” His name being stuck at the back of his throat “maybe even me” he finally choked out as his hand went to reach for the valyrian necklace encircled around your neck. “You cannot even get rid of me entirely, you still wear my necklace like a collar”

“Maybe is not enough for me to stay!”

“Very well then, you want a reason to stay?” He asked now towering over your figure his nose almost touching yours “let me give you one”

He tilted your head upwards giving you a breath stealing kiss, his arms wrapping around your body holding you close to him. You kissed back with all the anger all the love you feel. “I cannot let you leave” he said in between kisses, the two of you barely parting for air. Daemon pushed you towards the bed “you and your stupid morals” he insulted kissing you deeply “you and your stubbornness” he said pressing his face in the crook of your neck. “You never know what’s best for you” his hands grabbing a hold of your thighs slapping the fat of it.

“And what is best for me?” You asked looking at him

“Staying here with me” he said his hand thumb sliding into your mouth your soft lips wrapping around his thick finger “suck” he ordered before switching his thumb for his index and ring finger. His fingers gagged you shutting you up, your mouth drooling from the intrusion. “I suppose a holy maiden such as yourself has never experienced pleasure? Tell me have you ever touched yourself?” You refused to answer the question “I suppose that is a no” Daemon smirked “Do you know what that means?” he asked pushing his hand under your skirts. You shook your head anticipating his next action

“It means that will be the first and last person to touch you here” he said his thumb pressing at your weeping entrance, your cunt clenching around nothing begging for more of his touch. His fingers spread the wetness around teasingly almost entering you making you gasp “Take off your gown for me and make it slow” he ordered taking his hand away from your needy parts. With shaky legs you stood unclasping your light purple gown letting it drop to the floor. Your mind filled with lust, what was one time? One time with the man you loved? Surely the Gods can find it in themselves to forgive you for your wanton nature.

“I said take it all off” he said motioning for you to take off your last small clothes leaving you bare and exposed in your bedchambers. The only thing that rested on your neck was the necklace he gifted you. Daemon rested on the bed with his legs spread his eyes looked at every part of you. Your neck, your chest, your tits, your ass, your legs, your cunny. It send jolts of pleasure down his body his dick hardened and a bulge forming in his breeches “Gevie” he muttered, this was better than what he had imagined. His hand reached out for you pulling you by the hips as he placed kisses on every part of your body in sight. He made sit on the bed, making you spread your legs for him showing him your leaking cunny. Before you knew it his hands were wrapped around your thighs and his head in your centre licking a strike of your entire cunt with his tongue. You tried to push yourself away at the foreign sensation but Daemon wasn’t having it. His hands preventing you from going any further away from him. He sucked on your clit watching you squirm and arch your back “Daemon” you moaned. You were in literal heaven. Why had you denied yourself of such pleasure. Daemon licked, sucked and kissed your cunt making you come twice on his tongue, your legs were shaking around his head as you begged saying you couldn’t any more. Daemon licked up all of your release before he pushed a finger inside your cunny, you gasped at the stretch, seeing you were adjusting to the feeling he added another finger, telling you to relax and enjoy the feel his tongue went back to work licking your poor little overstimulated pearl over and over your hole clenched tightly around his fingers he knew you were going to come again, his movements were fast and hard making you roll your eyes at the back of your head as you came hard all over his fingers. The bed soaked with your juices. Daemon’s face wet, he wore a devilish grin on his face. He climbed onto the bed pulling off his benches to show his recent thick length. Hell would that even fit inside you?

“Lie on your back” He ordered and you followed obediently Daemon hovered over you, you finally got what you wanted the sinful proximity between the two of you. His hands intertwined with yours as he distracted you by kissing your lips passionately. You felt him enter, he was so much bigger and he pushed himself in slowly “breathe, my love” he said before pinching your tits hard causing you to gasp. He slid in fully. You couldn’t keep your eyes open, your arms still being held by daemon who now pinned them over your head. The stretch of his full cock in your walls, breaking your maidenhead he let you experience the burn, the pain, the pleasure all together. Daemon let out a moan as he felt you clench around him tightly. This was what he always dreamt about. What he always wanted. You.

Daemon had been patient enough, his slow and firm thrusts quickening. Every thrust hammering your insides as your tits bounced, Daemon was enchanted. He help your hips tightly pounding into you even reaching further, making your back arch and you begged Daemon to let you touch him. Daemon, Daemon, Daemon. The only thoughts that ran in your head as he kissed you his tongue finding it’s way into your mouth as he pounded into you. He let out little moans as he pressed his forehead against yours. As he made love to you. The moment he saw your jaw go slack, he knew you were close. He kept his rhythm steady feeling your orgasm release all over him and the sheets. He left you whimpering underwing him from the overstimulation “good girl” he said plopping on the bed his cock still erect and heavy “can you ride a dragon?” He said leaning on the headboard. You wanted to please him nodding as you straddled his hips pressing the head of his cock into your entrance as you lowered yourself onto him. The position made your toes curl, the way you sunk onto him and lifted yourself over and over. Daemon couldn’t help but watch how your slick pussy gushed all over his cock. His moans increased as he felt his eyebrows press together, he held your hips tightly thrusting harshly into you, it was too much for Daemon, he could no longer hold back he released his hot seed in the walls of your tight cunny, your cum from your fifth orgasm oozed out. White sticky fluids from your puffy folds. Daemon had seen no better art piece, you would be a muse for any artist.

You lay on top of daemon who stroked the back of your hair “you were perfect. You are perfect.” he smiled his dimples showing. You were breathless, tired, exhausted passing into unconsciousness. Daemon chuckled wrapping his arms around you. You were his. And he was going to go to hell and back if he was denied you.

Daemon had ordered for all your clothes to be moved into his bedchamber, he told lord Gerald that you had no intention to leave kingslanding as you were to marry him. The whispers between the servants reached the ears of Viserys thanks to his hand Otto Hightower.

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING DAEMON!” He yelled at his younger brother who was making arrangements for you in his room “you have dishonoured her! And you take no effort to even hide the fact!”

“I have every intention to wed her, brother” Daemon said rolling his eyes at the king.

“you are betrothed to ANOTHER” Viserys’ blood boiled. How could he have done such a thing to his own family to you! When he knew damn well he was meant to wed another.

“Another who is not of my choosing!” Daemon said to his brother losing his patience.

“The marriage pact with Rhea was settled years ago! We cannot go against our word” he argued

“You are the king, the blood of the dragon runs in you. You do not need anyone’s permission! Your word is the law, the truth”

“Daemon, I have spent a life time defending you! But your heart is even blacker than I thought”

“Wed her to me..I want to marry Lady Arryn”

“You think I don’t know that, you fool?! But you have wronged lady Rhea! Kept her waiting for years!”

“I have bedded her already brother. It is done. It is decided” Daemon said

Viserys slapped him across the face for his insolent behaviour.

“Tell me brother..” Daemon said holding his cheek pressing on the hurt part of his face. It didn’t hurt at all he just wanted to get some sympathy from Viserys “what of how you wronged y/n” he chuckled “when you passed her over for her younger sister”

“That was different!” He thundered at the accusation thrown by Daemon

“Make it right, wed her to me. I’ll take her as she is and wed her in the tradition of our house. Give me Y/n to take to wife and we will return the house of the dragon to its proper glory” he said almost begging his brother.

It was no secret that Daemon and you had strong chemistry, Viserys and his wife Aemma often joking about making a mistake betrothing Rhea to him instead of you. He supposed he always expected his younger brother to pull this sort of move. And he unfortunately had a very good point, you were passed off for your younger sister which was an insult by itself, being rejected by the king.

“Fine, I will allow this marriage to take place, but just know that it is not for you but instead Lady Arryn” he sighed. “And I don’t want to hear any complaint from now onwards? You will obey my every command henceforth if you are to marry lady Arryn” daemon would definitely do as he pleases, but he nods hugging his brother “you were always weak when it comes to me, brother” he smirked looking at his brother. “Showing empathy is weak now?” Viserys smiled patting Daemon’s shoulders. “Are you sure marriage is what you desire?”

“Marriage matters to me when it is with her..” he smiled “I am serious about her brother.”

“I will talk to the Royce’s and make it up to them somehow” he said “how excited was she when you proposed?”

“Oh I didn’t propose” Viserys wanted to chuck Daemon out of the window. This whole argument when you hadn’t even consented to the marriage “DAEMON!”

“She’s asleep brother. You cannot expect me to disturb her!” Viserys at that moment wanted to put down his crown and run away to Essos. How much more of his brother’s idiocy could he handle? Well anyways he’s your problem now.

Needless to say the marriage took place swiftly thanks to Daemon’s groomzilla tendencies. The man wanted the wedding to be private between only the families. You were more than happy to comply. Daemon and you still didn’t cease your nonsensical arguments, now finding new ways of letting out that anger and love in bed together.

Daemon wasn’t a perfect husband, he was irrational, emotional, pessimistic, but he stayed the loyalest of all the husbands in Westeros stopping all his trips to the streets of silk rather spending them with you, the woman he loved so dearly. With each passing year Daemon grew even more mature with the birth of your first child a baby girl who you both named Baela who inherited that fire and passion of your husband who was also spoiled rotten by him with gifts.

Daemon proved to be the best husband you could have ever asked. You would always remember to tell him that when he took you for rides on his dragon Caraxes and whispered sweet promises to you. You had no doubt about it, marrying him was the best decision he had ever made for you. You knew he would put his life on the line for you or Baela if need be, he was your fiercest protector.

“Did I ever mention I love you?” You asked looking to your husband as you both flew on Caraxes. Daemon knew you often felt like you under appreciated him when you really did love him.

“More times than I can count” he chuckled kissing your cheek

“Perhaps I should stop then, I can’t have you growing indifferent to my love”

“If you do anything of the sort, just know that I cannot promise you that I will not exact revenge” he smiled kissing the top of your head.

“And what revenge would you take against me, your wife?” You asked smiling back

“I will teach Baela cuss words” he said smirking triumphantly.

“DAEMON DON’T YOU DARE!”

[aristaspark]

Do you believe Brooklynn has feelings for Darius?

Hellooo, I really don't think she does! (who's surprised honestly?) No but fr I need to stop writing essays on this topic 😂 Thank god i'm an insomniac.

I know people are convinced she loves him back because she didn't *actually* reject him and instead said "I'm not really ready for..." but if you look closely at the sequence, the way they animated her body language and facial expressions is much more telling than her words (at least to me), and it led to me agreeing with Darius' recollection of this moment (she tried to be nice about it but it was clear she didn't feel the same).

Like, I don't see how anyone can see that and think she's in love 😭 THAT'S the face of love according to this fandom???? She looks horrified at the mere possibility that Darius could feel anything other than friendship towards her.

Also important to note that she started saying "I just don't think..." before changing her choice of words, and to me it's a clear sign she was about to reject him more directly, but couldn't do it, so instead she went for an answer that would spare his feelings.

And when you add the shot of her putting distance btw them by moving her feet away from him as if she suddenly felt uncomfortable with their proximity... Why would you physically recoil as the person you *supposedly* love confesses to you?

To me if the writers had wanted to indicate that deep down she wanted to be with Darius, but couldn't in this moment because it was too soon (as she said)/for Kenji's sake, they would have had her say the same thing, but have her body instinctively move closer to him as a physical manifestation of her "true feelings" (...which it is, but it moved away, you do the math).

Also the fact that right after that she still asks him to meet with her for her investigation. I don't know, I think that if she felt anything towards him she would have been as embarrassed/uncomfortable as him, but here she brushed it off as if it was nothing. She had no problem with the idea that she would see him later that day, as if to her there was nothing more to be said/this "incident"/chapter was closed.

I already talked about the look during the plane scene so I'm not going to do it again.

From a story standpoint, it would be really questionnable writing if she suddenly fell in love with someone a week after her partner of 6 years dumped her.

And I absolutely cannot see them throw the "she was in love with Darius while dating Kenji" excuse at us, like, that's straight up character assassination. I know they made Brook morally grey but you can't come back from that 😂. Also, it would go against what they showed in the two first seasons because she looked really in love with Kenji (how devastated she looked when he broke up, how happy they were on the video on her phone, how physically affectionate she was with him in episode 3, the picture of them in her secret apartment...).

And this.

I didn't think my biggest evidence for Kenlynn would be some scribbles on a notebook, but oh well 😂

Like, one simply cannot explain this away. This was her attempt at telling them she was alive, and she only wrote to Kenji, not Darius. And it's not like she had to censore herself or to, idk, force herself to write to Kenji to keep up the appearances because those are only, as I said, scribbles on a paper, her raw feelings and thoughts, something she was never going to send anyway.

Like, if they want to make dinostar canon, why post that? Why not take this opportunity to add content/substance to the ship they *supposedly* want to make endgame? Having that letter addressed to Kenji only serves the purpose of showing us that Kenji's the one on her mind, because otherwise that was unnecessary. They could have had her write to the whole camp fam, but instead they decided to show us that she wanted to tell Kenji she was alive above everyone else, including Darius, the one who confessed to her right before her "death" and who Brooklynn most likely knew felt incredibly guilty for not showing up/for her death (Ronnie probably told her).

If she was in love with Darius she would have adressed the "letter" to him, I can't see any argument against that. Or maybe it's more that if she wasn't in love with Kenji anymore, she wouldn't have written to him, but to all of them.

Honestly, the most I can see them giving Dinostar as far as Brooklynn's feelings for Darius go is to have her admit that she used to have a little crush on him when they were on Nublar but that it completely disappeared once she started getting coser to Kenji. I have nothing to back up this theory, but I don't know, I thought that much wouldn't be too far fetched.

(oh, and I almost forgot but this goes without saying... pretty sure her getting attacked, alone at night, mauled by a dino and loosing her arm partly because he set her up would have killed any potential blooming feeling in her).

[bcmbiquinn]

THE UNSEEN TENANT

Summary: After moving into a new flat, Joseph begins experiencing strange and unsettling noises at night, including stomping, dragging sounds, and eerie knocks. Although he initially dismisses them as his imagination, the disturbances intensify.

w/c: 656

a/n: I know it’s not Halloween but i cannot wait until it comes around again, I love spooky stories and everything paranormal and this one came to me as an epiphany and I wanted to share it, hope you like it and I’m sorry Joe, hope your flat is not haunted!

Content warning?: if you’re easily scared dni, ghost, paranormal noises, scratching.

It had been a week since Joseph moved into his new flat. After an incredible year, he decided to treat himself to a larger place. Everything about the move felt perfect, the neighbourhood was quiet and peaceful, the view was fantastic, and the flat itself seemed ideal.

During that first week, he managed to unpack as much as possible, though his busy schedule, meetings, script readings, and more, often left him too exhausted to finish. Most nights, he would collapse into bed and fall into a deep sleep. Occasionally, he would wake in the middle of the night after hearing a strange noise, but his fatigue always pulled him straight back into slumber.

After a month, Joseph had settled in more comfortably. The flat was fully unpacked and decorated to his taste, and he was genuinely pleased with how it all came together. One particular evening, after enjoying dinner and a film, he took a shower before heading to bed. Wrapping himself in his duvet, he fell asleep within minutes.

Sometime after midnight, a loud thud on the roof startled him awake. Disoriented, he sat up, unsure if the noise had been real or just part of a dream. When the flat fell silent again, he eventually drifted back to sleep.

A week later, it happened again. This time, the noise was much clearer, a heavy stomp on the roof followed by the unmistakable sound of something being dragged. His heart raced as his imagination spiralled. Could someone be trying to break in? He slipped on his shoes and grabbed the bedside lamp, moving cautiously through the flat. But there was no one there, and the quiet that followed was almost deafening.

For days, the disturbances continued. Whether at midnight or 3 a.m., the same loud noises returned, stomping, dragging, and the unnerving sound of what could only be long nails scraping across the rooftop. Joseph couldn’t shake the growing sense of dread. No one else in the building seemed to hear it, and he started to question his own sanity. Was it all in his head? Was the stress of work finally catching up to him?

One night, after his usual routine, Joseph convinced himself it was over. Days had passed without incident, and he reasoned that perhaps his imagination had been playing tricks on him. He drifted to sleep feeling more at ease.

But at 3 a.m., the stomping returned, louder than ever. He jolted upright, heart pounding, as the scraping noises resumed. And then something new happened: a deafening knock at his bedroom door, as if someone had hurled a brick at it.

His hands shook as he stood, adrenaline coursing through him. “Who’s there?” he called, his voice trembling. “I’m calling the police!”

There was no reply, only silence. Driven by equal parts fear and curiosity, he grabbed his phone and cautiously opened the door. The flat seemed empty. He moved slowly into the dining room and froze.

Sitting at the table was a little girl in an old-fashioned dress, her legs swinging as she stared straight ahead. Joseph’s breath caught in his throat. His mind raced. Why was there a child in his flat? And why did she look like she’d stepped out of the early 1900s?

Time seemed to stand still. Every instinct told him not to move, not to make a sound, because he could feel it, she was going to turn and look at him. And he didn’t want to see her face.

Summoning strength from somewhere deep within, he turned and bolted back to his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. He dived under the duvet, trembling like a child, though no one was there to protect him this time.

He didn’t know when he finally fell asleep, but when the morning light filtered through the curtains, he knew one thing for certain: he had to get out of that flat.

[putellas11]

A/N: Finally! So happy I was able to get this up in time to celebrate Alexia's return!!! Similar to Just a Girl, this was a big challenge for me and I was determined to see it through. This is a story of how love can shine a light in the darkest of moments. btw this is a long one so settle in.

The Missing Piece (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

In the blink of an eye, everything changed. 

A life once lived passionately and carefree, now overwhelmed with uncertainty and trepidation. How else are you supposed to feel when faced with the possibility of losing what you hold most dear? If you lose your guiding light, will you make it on your own or will you wander aimlessly through life?

These are the questions that have invaded your mind. It’s all you can think about. They keep you up at night and leave you exhausted the following morning. You feel their weight on your shoulders dragging you down. They leave you gasping for air as you struggle to just keep your head above water. And the one person who can help you and protect you from it all, is the very person you’re at risk of losing. 

The only thing that can distract you, even if it’s for the briefest of moments, is art. It’s the only way you can convey what words simply cannot express. When you feel crippled with pain and see no hope in sight, art is your only escape. With your brush, you create a world filled with light and hope. Because unlike life, art is forgiving. When you make a mess, you can paint over it. You can try again. 

Unlike life, art gives you second chances.

"Dios mio, that storeroom is a mess!" your coworker, Carla exclaims, appearing by your side. She drops a box of coffee beans on the floor and with the back of her hand, wipes a drop of sweat from her brow. “Took me 10 minutes just to find this.”

Behind the counter, your attention is on the sketchbook in your hands. When the crowd dies down and you get a little break from taking orders, the small sketchbook comes out from under the counter. Everything from the small details of the cafe to the faces of those who visit it, are you sources of inspiration.

“You mean the one we spent all night organizing last week?”

Annoyance radiates from Carla. “That can’t be us making all that mess, right?” she says, hands on her waist and her foot tapping repeatedly against the floor. “I’m convinced someone is sneaking in at night and trashing the place.” 

The absurdity of the statement makes you laugh, and she finally gets your full attention. “So, they don’t sneak in to steal anything? All they want to do is make a mess?” 

Carla nods with confidence. “It’s the only logical explanation.” 

How she manages to keep a straight face, you do not know. But her eyes certainly give her away. Like you, Carla has no intention of being a barista forever. Put two people together who don’t take their job too seriously and what do you get? A messy storeroom. 

“You’re ridiculous.” With a smile, you shake your head and return your focus back to the sketchbook. 

Carla leans in to take a peek at what you’re drawing, and it doesn’t take long for her to pick out your subject: a young woman sitting by the window, completely immersed in a book. You picked her out because of her auburn hair and the way it shines so bright bathed by rays of sunlight.

"How's the exhibit coming along, by the way?" Carla asks.

It's a simple question that elicits a deep sigh from your lips. Just the mention of it forces you to close the sketchbook and tuck it away under the counter. "It's going...good."

Carla raises her eyebrow, catching on to your very obvious hesitation. "But…" she says, encouraging you to spill whatever it is that’s bothering you.

"I've gotten great feedback from everyone I've shown the pieces to, but I can’t shake the feeling that something is missing. It's like there's something else I need to say, but for the life of me I can’t figure out what that is."

It’s been nothing but sleepless nights staring at a blank canvas just waiting for inspiration to strike.  All the other pieces came so naturally to you. Granted, all of them are dedicated to your mother. But still, you've never experienced something quite like this and with the exhibit only a few months away, you're getting a little restless.

You hope Carla might have some words of wisdom to break you out of the funk you’re in, but the door of the cafe creaks open, and a woman walks in.

Break time is over. 

Like clockwork, Carla takes her position by your side at the brewing station, ready to prepare whatever order the customer might want.

"Hola! What can I get you?" You give the woman the same greeting and smile you give to them all.

The woman glances at Carla, and for a brief moment, it gives you the impression that there might actually be some meaning behind it. But you dismiss it — it's probably nothing.

"Just a cortado, please."

"And the name for the order?" you ask, busy staring at the screen. 

"...Alexia."

It takes the woman a second too long to say her name, but again, you pay it no mind. You've taken thousands of orders by now, and they're all a little different from the last. Some customers are chatty and some straight to the point. Either way, you take their order and send them on their way. You don’t have the energy for anything else.

Carla, an expert by now, has the order done in a second and leaves it on the counter. She shares a look again with the woman, and this time it does spark your interest. You make a note to ask Carla about it later.

The door opens and closes, and now there's one less customer inside the cafe to worry about.

"You know," Carla says, swinging her arm over your shoulder, "that thing you're missing? It might just be standing right in front of you."

You scoff in response, "if only it were that easy."

Carla's expression hints that she wants to say something else, but instead, she gives you a comfortable squeeze on the shoulder.

You’re about to ask her about those looks she was sharing with the woman, but you’re interrupted by the phone vibrating inside your apron pocket. 

It’s a simple message and it doesn’t deliver any bad news, but no matter how many times you receive it, your heart drops to your stomach.

"Todo bien?" Carla asks.

You nod, typing away your response. "Mama just finished her treatment. Tia is taking her home now." Tucking the phone back in your apron, a soft "merde" escapes from your lips. 

Only a year ago, you were living in France with the world at your fingertips. Everything was absolutely perfect. It’s where you went to art school and poured your heart and soul into every sketch and painting with the ultimate goal of perfecting your talent. And when you graduated, all your hard work paid off when Cécile Guth — a painter you deeply admired — granted you the opportunity to be her apprentice. In France, life was art, and art was your life.

But that all changed when your mom got sick.

Leukemia.

That’s when everything came to a halt. The cloud you had been living on suddenly evaporated, and you came crashing down, face first into a harsh reality. You had no choice but to leave France. At first, you didn't miss the life and dreams you left behind. You were so focused on taking care of your mom that everything else was deemed irrelevant. But as the months have gone by, you wonder if you'll ever be able to return. And if you ever do, you fear you might not be the same person. 

"How's Lídia doing?" Carla asks, bringing you back to reality.

"She's a fighter," you say with a sad smile. "She tries to be strong for my sake, but I can see she's suffering. Chemo is supposed to help but honestly, I feel like it's hurting her more than that damn cancer ever could."

Without a second to waste, Carla opens her arms and pulls you into a hug you so desperately need. You've only known each other for a year, but she's been by your side during the most difficult time of your life.

"On a happier note, the flyers for the class are done," you say, wiping away the single tear from your cheek.

Carla, sensing the need to lighten up the mood, claps her hands excitedly. "I'm telling you, you should have had them made a long time ago!"

It was Carla’s idea to have flyers made to promote your small art class, The First Brushstroke. Working at the cafe isn’t exactly making you rich — not that you need to be, but you definitely need an extra source of income with your mom obviously not able to work. 

“I’m picking them up on my way home. If I can get just three more regulars, I’ll be good.” 

Carla waves your doubts away, “trust me, I’m a genius. I bet that you’ll have to find a bigger studio in a few months.”

The door opens once again and it’s time to repeat the routine all over again. You’re not sure how much longer you can take this.

“I hope you’re right.”

__________________________

Once again, you find yourself sitting in front of a blank canvas, just staring at it intently with no hope in sight. All the colors and shapes that once flowed so naturally through your mind seem to have vanished. You’re left staring at nothing, feeling frustrated and helpless. Every time you dip your brush into the paint and make a few strokes on the canvas, it feels forced. Art isn’t supposed to feel forced. It’s meant to feel effortless and natural.

With a sigh you set down your brush and lean back on the chair. Looking around the room, you see a clutter of art supplies and splotches of paint decorating the floor. Very few traces are left of what was once your childhood bedroom. It was actually your mom’s idea to turn it into a little studio when you moved back home. Her way of helping you keep your passion alive, you suppose. 

Admitting defeat, you stand up and walk away from the canvas. The missing piece yet to be found.

You find your mom in her room, tucked under the blankets with a book in her hands. Physically, she has changed so much. A strong woman capable of running mile after mile is now barely able to walk a few feet on her own. Thick, luscious hair is now thin and falls off at the slightest touch.

And yet, in her eyes, you see the same woman who used to run all over the house with you playing hide and seek. The same woman who held you on her hip as she made pancakes with chocolate syrup smiles. Inside, she still has that raw passion and intensity as when she danced flamenco. She’s still your mom but it’s like you lose a little more of her with each passing day.

“Hi, mama,” you greet her, peeking your head inside the room.

The moment she sees you, a big smile appears. “Hola, mi vida. Come in.”

The book is placed to the side, and her arms welcome you as you lay down next to her. She doesn’t want you to ask about today’s treatment or how she’s feeling. She’s tired of only giving you bad news. Even when you’re the one that is supposed to look after her, her priority is still looking after you. 

So instead of asking, you let her gather her strength and run her fingers through your hair. She asks about your day, and you tell her everything to the smallest detail. She gets a nice chuckle out of Carla’s suspicions about who keeps messing up the storeroom.

“And that missing piece of yours?”

You shake your head. “Still missing and I’m just about ready to give it up. Honestly mama, I think it’s just me being a perfectionist.”

She hums but doesn’t say anything in response right away. “I think…” she says, “that if that heart of yours is telling you that something is missing, you should listen.”

Growing up, your mom would never allow frustration to consume you to the point of giving up. She would guide you through whatever you needed until you came out on the other side. She has always been your guiding light when you just can’t seem to find your way.

You look up at her and smile. “You’re so wise.”

A familiar mischievous glint that you rarely see nowadays appears in her eyes. “Well, one of us has to be.”

“Mama!”

But the two of you share a laugh, and it’s a sound you hope to hear forever and never forget.

__________________________

Tuesdays are slow. The early morning rush of customers has come and gone, and now the café is left with only a few scattered customers. On days like this, there’s only a need for one person behind the counter, and today that lucky person is you. 

With Carla not around to keep you company, the only goal is to keep yourself busy. Occasionally, you’ll take out the sketchbook, but nothing seems to maintain your interest for long. You’re in a proper funk, and rather than fight it, you have decided to embrace it. Even though you still can’t shake the feeling that you’re missing a piece for the exhibit, at this point, you’re only driving yourself crazy.

If the missing piece wants to be found, it will make its way to you eventually.

The door of the coffee shop swings open, and it takes you a second, but you recognize her as the woman sharing those looks with Carla.

“¡Hola, bienvenida!”

The woman gives you a soft smile, “Hi,” she says, tapping her fingers on the counter, “A cortado, please.”

With a nod, you input her order on the screen, “name for the order?” 

Once again, the woman takes just a second too long to respond. This time you glance up just in time to catch a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. 

“Alexia,” she says with a breath. 

As you prepare the order, you can see her taking a keen interest in one of the flyers for your art class. You left them up on the counter so that everyone could see, but as you expected, barely anyone has paid much attention.

Alexia, on the other hand, not only takes one from the stack, but she seems to be genuinely curious. If Carla was here, she would urge you to talk to her. But the truth is, you’ve never been good at selling yourself. You’ve always preferred to let your art speak for you, and for itself.

You place her cortado within Alexia’s reach and as casually as you can, ask, "Interested in taking an art class?" 

Alexia shifts her weight nervously and chuckles, "I'm not very good."

Out of fear that you’ll come off too eager and scare her away, you grab a towel and start wiping the counter that clearly doesn’t need much cleaning. “More reason to sign up.”

“I’ll sign up if you ask me to.” 

Your hand stills at her words. “Um…” Something about the way she said them makes you hesitant to look at her. “Yeah... you should sign up.”

But she doesn’t let you off the hook that easily. 

“Look at me and ask.”

And when you do look at her, you’re left speechless by what you see. This is the first time you look at her — really look at her, and it makes you feel vulnerable, exposed. Alexia’s not just looking at you - she’s looking through you. All of your flaws, insecurities, and imperfections seem to be on full display. 

You feel seen. 

You struggle to speak, the words seemingly stuck in your throat. “Please, sign up for my class.” 

“Finally.” Alexia says and she doesn’t say anything else for a few seconds, almost as if she’s relishing the moment. Eventually, the corners of her lips tug upwards in a smile, “I’ll think about it.”

You want to say something to convince her, but you’re left speechless. No one has looked at you like that in a very, very long time. It's a scary feeling, but at the same time, there's a sense of excitement brewing in the pit of your stomach. 

With the flyer and coffee in her hands, Alexia gives you a little nod. “Nos vemos.” 

You watch as she walks out of the cafe, leaving you to grapple with the unexpected feelings she sparked in you. 

The rest of your shift goes unbearably slow. With barely any customers to keep your mind busy, it keeps wandering back to Alexia. The exchange was confusing, unexpected, and strange. And yet, you want to talk to her again. 

It’s only when you get home that you’re distracted enough to not think about her, and it’s not for a great reason.

Your mom has good days and bad days and when you got home, your aunt’s expression told you all you needed to know. Today is a bad day. 

On the bad days, there’s very little you can do besides make sure she is comfortable. These are the days that hurt the most. You feel powerless and the questions that keep you up at night gain power over you. You try so hard to put on a brave face for her. She can handle the cancer, but not the sadness in your eyes.

After dinner, you’re lying in bed with her watching a movie. It’s a bad day ritual. It’s the perfect way to embrace a new world — a new reality in which your mom is not sick and everything is as it should be.

Halfway through the movie, your phone buzzes softly beside you.

A notification lights up the display: Alexia Putellas has registered for The First Brushstroke class.

A warm, tingling sensation spreads through your body as you read her name. You can't help but whisper it out loud, "Alexia."

Your mom's voice, curious and gentle, interrupts your thoughts. "Did you say something, mija?"

Quickly you lock the screen and shake your head. "It's nothing, mama."

There's no point in explaining how one simple look from a stranger has shaken you to your core.  How can you possibly explain something you, yourself don’t understand? 

__________________________

There’s a vibrant energy that flows through the narrow, winding streets of La Vila de Gràcia district. Before moving away, Gràcia was where you would spend most of your time. You felt understood and encouraged by all of the artists displaying their artwork on the streets. So, when you moved back and needed to find an art studio to host your class, you knew exactly where to look.

The art studio itself is small but fulfills your needs and most importantly, it’s within your budget. The walls are decorated with various pieces of artwork, from sketches and charcoal drawings to oil paintings. At the bottom right corner each one are your initials, and the only hint of the paintings being created by your hand. At the front of the room is a large wooden easel, holding a blank canvas that in a few hours will be brought to life with vibrant strokes of color.

The class is for beginners, so you don’t put too much pressure on yourself. There’s no need for everything to be perfect. In fact, you encourage mistakes. Most often than not, mistakes have the potential to become something unexpectedly beautiful. 

With the class set to begin shortly, those who signed up start trickling in. A couple takes a seat in the back of the room and right away you can tell it might be their first date. He hesitates to scoot his stool a little closer to her, and she tries to hide the blush in her cheeks when he finally does. 

A few of your regulars have the confidence to immediately go and collect their paint brushes, tubes of paint, and containers of water without being told to do so. Their confidence spreads through the room, and eventually, everyone has what they need to start the class. 

Only one easel stands alone. 

You glance at the clock on the wall and feel your heart sink a bit. It seems Alexia changed her mind and won’t be coming after all. You try to pretend it doesn’t bother you, but disappointment is an unwanted visitor tonight. Still, you gather the supplies she might need and leave them for her by the easel. Just in case. 

“Hello everyone, thank you all for being here” you offer a smile to the faces looking at you with anticipation, “tonight, we’ll be focusing on blending colors to create a gradient effect. If this is your first time —” 

The door swings open and everyone's heads snap in its direction. Alexia steps inside the studio and you forget whatever it is you were about to say. 

She stops at the entrance, her eyes locked on you. 

Alexia’s presence sparks an excited chatter amongst the class but their voices are muffled in your ears. You’re entirely captivated by her.

“Hi,” you greet her. 

“Hi,” she says with the softest of smiles.

Finally taking notice of the others in the studio, Alexia gives them all a quick nod before taking a seat.

Before, everyone’s eyes were on you. Now, you see them all taking not-so secretive glances at Alexia. You can only assume it’s because she made a late entrance, but deep down, you have a feeling there might be more to it than that. 

You clear your throat and bring everyone's attention back to you. “Um… yeah, I as I was saying,” but it takes you a second to regain your train of thought, “right —  if this is your first time, feel free to follow along to what I paint, it will be something really simple. But, if your mind or your heart calls out for something else, don’t hesitate.” 

As promised, your painting is of a simple sunset with silhouettes of pine trees. You show the students how to mix the colors together with a blending brush, starting with a light shade and gradually adding darker tones for a seamless transition. A painting of this simplicity would normally take you a few minutes, but you take your time to explain the different techniques and all the possible color combinations. 

With the painting done, it’s time for you to walk around the studio and give each student your individual attention. You encourage those who are hesitant to be bold and give praises to those that show improvement since the last time you saw them.

Eventually, you make your way to Alexia. When she notices you, she looks down somewhat embarrassed. 

“It’s so bad,” she says softly, avoiding your gaze.

You take a closer look at her painting. It's a striking red and blue background with the silhouette of a young girl holding a ball against her hip. Despite the simple composition, there's something poignant and personal about it. From your experience, most beginner students choose something generic, easy. But It's clear that Alexia’s painting is anything but.

"It's not bad," you say gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's personal, no? I think that’s what makes it beautiful."

Your words seem to give Alexia a little bit of confidence because she looks up at you, “gracias.” Her eyes drift down at your hand still on her shoulder, a soft sigh through parted lips. 

Fearing you might have crossed an invisible line, you pull away swiftly and give her a little nod. “You’re welcome.” 

The rest of the class goes by in a blur but all throughout you feel overwhelmed by Alexia. You feel her eyes on you the entire time. And while you certainly hope you didn’t make it too obvious, every time she flicked her hair, you noticed. When she scrunched her eyebrows in deep focus, you noticed. 

The students stand up and get ready to leave, but before some walk out of the studio, they do something that surprises you. They walk up to Alexia with a glint in their eyes, and ask her for a picture. She complies with every request.

Clearly, Alexia is someone important and you feel embarrassed for not knowing why. 

Only the couple and Alexia remain in the studio. You start cleaning up all the supplies scattered all while pretending not to listen. With what you do manage to catch of their conversation, your best guess is that it has something to do with a football club which is something you know very little about. Sports are not really your thing and it has nothing to do with being forced to play goalie once when you were six, and then proceeding to get a ball kicked at your face. Repeatedly. 

Alexia and the couple exchange farewells and the conversation comes to an end. With your back turned, you only hear the sound of the door opening and closing and then, a brief silence. 

“Do you usually stay and clean?” 

Alexia’s voice startles you, causing you to jump and let out a shriek. You assumed she had left like everyone else. It’s not like she has a reason to stay. 

“Oh!” she says, taking a step closer with a look of concern, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Slightly embarrassed at your reaction, you take a deep to calm your beating heart. “No, uh,” you say with a light chuckle, hand on your chest. “I stay and clean up. It’s part of the gig.” 

Alexia looks around, noticing all the dirty brushes and containers that will surely keep you occupied for another hour. Without a word, she follows your lead and starts picking up as well.

“Wait, you really don’t have to.” 

She stops and looks at you with the same intensity she did at the coffee shop. “I want to.” 

Once again, you're left speechless by one simple look and unable to make any further protests. Alexia seems to have this power of you that you find both unsettling and strangely exhilarating. 

With all the brushes and containers in the sink, you notice she has no intention of leaving until the task is complete. 

“I wash, you dry?” you suggest, turning on the faucet to allow the water to remove the excess paint from the brushes. 

“You wash, I dry.” Alexia stands next to you, her arm bushing ever so slightly against yours. 

It’s a small studio, so it’s a small sink. You’re acutely aware of the warmth radiating from her and you feel it spreading through you.

"I know it's a little obvious since you're the teacher and all," Alexia says, meticulously cleaning the brushes with a level of care and precision most people wouldn't exhibit. "But you’re really talented."

Your laughter is warm and appreciative. "That's quite a compliment based on just that small painting I did."

Alexia shakes her head slightly and her gaze drifts up to the paintings and sketches adorning the walls of the studio. "These are all yours, right?"

You don't bother looking up at the paintings. You're well aware of the pieces she's referring to. Instead, you fix your eyes on her, astonishment subtly etched on your face.

"You noticed."

Alexia meets your gaze. "Hard not to."

For a brief moment, both of you remain silent, allowing the compliment to linger in the air. But you feel flustered, so you look away and try to think of something to change the subject.

"Do you mind if I ask what you do?"

Alexia straightens her posture with an unmistakable hint of pride. "I play for Barça."

And you feel like idiot for not knowing that. "No wonder everyone was so starstruck when you walked in."

Alexia's lips curve into a tight, shy smile. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that," she says, as she finishes drying the last of the brushes.

"Don't be," you say, shifting your weight against the sink. "I should apologize for being from here and not recognizing you. I feel like I'm committing some sort of crime."

Her laughter is light, and she leans in ever so slightly. "You know, I think there's a reward for turning in people like you," she teases.

Biting your bottom lip to stifle a grin, you reply, "And if I offer a better reward for keeping my secret?"

Alexia edges slightly closer, curiosity dancing in her eyes. "What do you have in mind?"

Her proximity sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "How about a private class next Friday? You'll have the teacher all to yourself."

Alexia pretends to ponder it for a moment, but eventually extends her hand, and you take it without hesitation.

"We have a deal."

__________________________

Over the next few days, you find yourself more attentive than ever at who enters the cafe. Every time the door swings open, your head instinctively turns in its direction. Not only that, you’re so lost in thought that you struggle to remember even the simplest of orders.

After you botch the third order of the day, Carla's curiosity gets the better of her. "Okay, I have to know," she says, her arms crossed over her chest, "what's got your head in the clouds?"

"Sorry... I just have something on my mind, that's all," you reply, trying to dismiss it. "It’s stupid."

She seems willing to let it go, but when you reach for the whole milk, she has to intervene. "He asked for oat milk," she points out, swapping the milk cartons for you. "Alright, spill it — and I don't mean the drink."

With the customer only a few feet away, you lower your voice so only Carla can hear. "I met someone…"

Carla's eyebrows rise in intrigue. "I like where this is going."

You quickly complete the order under Carla's watchful gaze and hand it to the customer with an apologetic smile.

Once he walks out of the cafe, Carla swivels back to you. "You were saying."

"She was at my class last week even stayed to help me clean up. You know I haven't exactly flirted with anyone in a while, but I'm pretty sure that's what happened. And now…" you take a deep breath, "I can't stop thinking about her,” you say rather quickly, almost embarrassed.

“It doesn't help that she's a regular here so I'm expecting her to walk through that door any second, and it has me on edge."

"Wait," Carla says, holding her hand up, "she's a regular?"

You nod. "Yeah, it’s Alexia. I think you know her actually."

You still haven't forgotten the glances her and Alexia have shared in the past. But with everything that has happened, you never had the chance to ask Carla what it all meant. 

Upon hearing Alexia's name, the broadest grin spreads across Carla's face.

"What?" you ask, puzzled.

"It's about damn time!" She exclaims, a tad too loudly. The few customers in the cafe glance her way, and she quickly apologizes.

"What do you mean, it's about time?"

After releasing her excitement with a few soft claps, Carla places a hand on your shoulder. "Querida, Alexia has been coming here for like two months just to see you and you barely paid her any attention. La pobre, she would get so sad whenever you asked for her name."

It all starts to make sense. So much has been happening around you but you’ve been oblivious to it all. 

You playfully slap Carla on her side. "Why didn't you say anything?!"

Carla shrugs, her smile beaming. "What can I say — I'm a romantic! I didn't want to force it." Her smile dims slightly. "Besides, I figured you had a lot on your mind with your mom and the exhibit. I didn't think you were all that interested in dating."

Carla's right: dating hasn't exactly been a priority. You haven’t gone on a date in a year and it’s a fact that hasn’t exactly kept you up at night. How can you seek out love when your heart is in danger of being broken in a million little pieces? If your worst fear becomes a reality, there might not be a heart left to give. But even so, you cannot deny that while it still remains in tack, it beats a little faster at the mention of Alexia. 

"You're not wrong," you concede, "but a woman like that is worth moving up the priority list."

Carla snickers and wiggles her eyebrows. "She's gorgeous, isn't she?"

"Very."

__________________________

It's Friday night and you can’t stop staring at the clock in your art studio. Its hands seem to mock you. Each tick echoes through the empty space, driving you mad with anticipation. It's your fault for arriving an hour early, but you just couldn't bear waiting at home any longer. You haven't felt like this in so long, and you just don't know what to do with yourself.

Back in France, you only dated casually. Some relationships were more serious than others sure, but you never really saw a future in any of them. Your heart and mind were too committed to your art, so it was difficult for anyone to compete.

But this time it feels different. Your art, which used to consume you, now seems to be somewhat in the background, and thoughts of Alexia have taken center stage.

The art studio is still. The easels and art supplies waiting in anticipation for Alexia. You set two easels in the corner next to the large windows that reveal the night sky, dotted with stars.

And if you're not staring at the clock, you're staring at the blank canvas, trying to envision the scene you want to create. But of course, your thoughts drift to Alexia, and all you can see is the curve of her smile and the sparkle in her eyes.

The door to the studio opens and Alexia walks in. Immediately, you feel the heat rise in your cheeks.

"Hi," she greets you, choosing to remain standing by the door.

You fight the nerves threatening to consume you and take the necessary steps to reach her. "Hi," you reply, hands intertwined nervously behind you.

Alexia looks at you for a moment, a smirk teasing her lips. There's no doubt she can sense your nerves. "You know, I ran into some officers on the way here."

"Oh yeah?"

She hums and nods her head, "They were actually looking for someone that reminded me a lot of you."

You bite your bottom lip to suppress your laughter. You've missed being teased like this. "Well, either you led them right to me, or you kept your end of the deal."

Alexia takes a moment, a mischievous look in her eye. "She's right here, officers!"

This earns Alexia a playful nudge on her shoulder. "Alright, you got me," you admit, your laughter filling the studio.

“Are you ready to get started, captain?”

Alexia nods and follows you to the easels by the window. She doesn’t try to be slick when she scoots her stool closer you. She makes it very obvious and, you of course, make no protest.

In the beginning, you focus on giving her a few pointers on how to work with charcoal. It's all very professional, which does help calm the butterflies in your stomach.

But then Alexia glances over at your canvas and asks, "How do you do that shading thing you do?"

You give her a smile and lean in closer to her canvas. With the proximity, you can smell her perfume, her breath against your hair, her knee pressed up against yours.

When you finish explaining, you turn to Alexia, only to realize that she hasn't exactly been paying much attention to what you were doing.

"Did you listen to a word I said?" You ask teasingly.

Alexia blushes, a sheepish smile on her face. "Sorry, I got distracted," she admits, her eyes flickering to your lips for a moment. "Show me again."

And you do so, not just because you want her to learn, but because you like the feeling of having her close.

After a little while of working in peaceful silence, Alexia decides to speak up. "So, in the last class, you mentioned that you moved back here from France?"

You give her a nod, "Yeah, almost a year now."

"Why did you come back?"

Your hand stills and hovers above the canvas. It doesn't matter how much time has gone by or how many times you've had to talk about it, your mom's illness is and will always be difficult to put into words.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Alexia says, sensing your hesitation.

But you shake your head and smile, your eyes glistening. "No, it's okay," you say, voice soft but steady.

"My mom was diagnosed with cancer, and of course I had moved back to be with her. I used to say that it would take something really big for me to move back here, and… it turns out I was right."

Alexia listens intently to your every word. "I'm really sorry."

You finally gather the courage to look at Alexia, and you see two things: a sense of understanding and a little smudge of charcoal on her cheek.

"Thank you," you tell her with a small smile, which only grows bigger the longer you look at her.

"What?" she asks, confused.

"You have a little charcoal…" you tell her, pointing to the smudge on her cheek.

"Oh," she says and immediately tries to clean it off herself but fails to actually reach the spot.

"Let me help." You lean in closer to her, and with a soft, careful touch, you reach out and gently wipe the smudge away with your thumb.

Time seems to stand still as you both sit there, faces close in a moment of pure, unspoken emotion.

Slowly, you pull away, your cheeks flushed and your heart pounding. The moment is broken, but the feelings remain palpable. 

“Gracias,” she says, her hand on where she felt your touch.

Unlike the last class, this time there's no excuse for Alexia to stay and help you clean up. So, with the drawings done, you're both just standing a little awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next.

"Would you like to go for a drink? I know a bar nearby."

Your eyes widen in surprise, and then a smile lights up you face. "I'd love that."

And that’s how the two of you end up at Las Vermudas, a cozy bar tucked away in the Gràcia district. 

You follow Alexia to a booth in a far corner of the bar. Once you both have settled in, the bartender comes over to take your orders. You can’t keep your eyes off her as she orders her drink and when she catches you looking, she smiles.

It’s like the two of you are in your own little world. The conversation flows effortlessly and eventually, it leads back to your return.

“I felt so settled back in France. Everything just made sense. I was making all the right connections through Cécile, my mentor. It’s actually thanks to her that my work will be featured in an exhibit in a few months. Now, I have no idea where or who I’ll be next year.”

Almost like she can read your mind, Alexia asks, “What are you afraid of?” 

“When I go back — if I do ever go back, I m scared that I just won’t be the same. That nothing will be the same. And that maybe I lost my chance to be truly great. It’s not just talent to succeed in my world, it’s a lot introductions with right people.”

Once again, you see nothing but understanding in Alexia. Her finger trails the edge of her glass, eyebrows slightly furrowed in thought. 

"You know, there was a time when I wasn't sure I'd ever play again," she admits, her voice wavering slightly. 

Your eyes widen in concern, and you lean in, eager to hear more.

"Two years ago I suffered an ACL injury and I was out for almsot a year. No matter how many times I told myself that I would come back stronger, there was still that little bit of doubt that would keep me up at night. I was so scared that I would not be the same player and my career would just be a what if."

“And are you the same player?” 

A smirk tugs on her lips. “No,” she reaches for her glass and takes a small sip. “I’m better.” she says, and her smirk transforms into a proud smile. 

And so you raise your own glass to her in admiration. It’s one thing to overcome an injury, but it’s another thing entirely to overcome the doubt that so desperately wants to hold you back.

After a little more back and forth and occasional teasing, you feel comfortable to bring up something that’s been on your mind.

 "So, I have to admit something," you say, hesitating slightly. "You know my coworker, Carla?” 

Alexia shifts in her seat “Si, we’ve talked a little here and there.”

You have a pretty good idea of what they’ve talked about — particularly how blind and clueless you’ve been for months.

But even though Alexia is no longer a stranger and you know for a fact that she’s interested in you, it doesn’t make it any easier to take that leap forward and be vulnerable with someone.

“Well, I kept getting distracted at the cafe, like I couldn’t get an order right to save my life.” You look down at the glass in your hands, “and I’m not the best barista by any means, but Carla could tell my mind was somewhere else.” 

Alexia remains silent, but you feel her scooting a little closer to you.

“What were you thinking about?” 

Your finger taps the glass repeatedly as you prepare yourself to reply to a question Alexia probably already knows the answer to. 

“I was thinking about you.” 

She scoots again a little closer, but this time actually reaches for your hand. It gives you the confidence you need to look away from the glass, and into her eyes. 

“And when I told her I was thinking about you she got really excited, because as it turns out… you’ve been thinking about me too.”

A light blush spreads across Alexia's cheeks. "I thought you’d never notice me,” she says with a light chuckle. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you.”

Your eyes drift down to your hand and you watch how delicately Alexia trails over your knuckles.

"Every time I saw you at the cafe, I would try to find the reason to talk to you, but you wouldn’t even look me in the eye. So, I just waited and hoped that maybe, just maybe, you'd just look up."

Unlike so many times before in the cafe, this time you do look up. The intensity in her eyes no longer scares you. You welcome it and embrace it as the urge to close the distance and taste her lips becomes irresistible.  

Everything indicates that she feels it too. You don’t think about it too much. You just do it.

When your lips finally meet, it's as if a spark ignites, sending a wave of warmth and desire throughout your entire body. The kiss, tender and sweet, makes the world around you fade away, and all that exists is the sensation of her lips.

When you pull away, breathless and exhilarated, you rest your forehead against hers and whisper, “I don’t think I’ll ever notice anyone else ever again.”

__________________________

With Alexia by your side, life takes a pleasant turn. After months of nothing but stress and just expecting the worst, she has brought a little light to your darkness. Not because she showers with grand gestures of affection. No, it’s the little things she does that mean the most. Like waiting for you outside the cafe after your shift so you’re the first person she sees. And it doesn’t matter how tired you are, seeing her waiting for you is like a breath of fresh air.

Because she makes you feel like this, it’s easy for you to embrace her world and her passions even though they differ so greatly from your own. It took a little bit of convincing and a lot of kisses, but you eventually agreed to let her teach you how to play football. You stumble and fall more often than not but Alexia is patient and encouraging.  However, it’s hard for her to suppress her laughter at how many times you miss the ball and just kick the air. 

But what surprises you the most, is that other than at the First Brushstroke, you’ve had no interest in painting. No longer are you driving yourself crazy with the exhibit and the damned missing piece.

“Oye,” Carla calls out to you, “stop thinking about Alexia and help me stock up the pastry shelf.”

You roll your eyes with a smirk in response but don’t bother to defend yourself. She’s right after all. “Fine, fine.” 

“By the way, the owner just texted me that he might stop by tomorrow,” Carla informs you and her expression shows that she’s not all that pleased.

You throw your head back and groan, “of course he is.” 

Every once in a blue moon the owner of the cafe decides to show up and pretend like he actually cares about the place. Just the mention of his possible visit makes you want to take off your apron and quit.

What makes matters worse is that Alexia won’t be waiting for you outside today. She’s traveling back with the team and you expect her to go straight home and get some rest. 

The two of you are just about done restocking the shelf when the door to the cafe opens.

“Ale?” 

Her eyes immediately find you and she gives you a big, beaming smile. Your heart skips a beat as you return her smile, a tangible connection passing between you even from across the cafe.

“Hola, preciosa.”

Within a second you’re in her arms, face nestled in the crook of your neck. “You’re back,” you mumble against her skin, giving a quick peck on her cheek.

“I am,” she says with a little squeeze. 

Behind you, Carla clears her throat to get your attention. "Hey, can you bring out the rest of the apple puff ones from the back? I'll cover the counter."

You glance at the shelf and see more than enough of the apple puff-pastries and you, of course, catch the hint. “Will do,” you reply with a grateful smile.

You take Alexia’s hand and guide her towards the storeroom. As you pass Carla, you faintly hear Alexia say “thank you,” to her. 

The moment the two of you step into the room and the door closes, your hands reach up to cradle Alexia’s face and pull her in for a slow, passionate kiss.

It’s as if all the days you've spent apart melt away. "I missed you," you murmur repeatedly against each other's lips, the words barely audible. 

Alexia with her arms around your waist, draws you even closer, and you lose yourself in the warmth of her embrace. 

When you finally pull apart and catch your breath, you can't help but playfully reprimand her. "You had such a long flight. Why aren’t you at home and in bed right now?"

Alexia shakes her head as if that was the last thing in her mind. "I wanted to see my girlfriend,” she says as she trails gentle kisses down your neck.

Your eyes widen in surprise at her words. Gently, you grasp her face with your hands, "I'm your girlfriend?" This is the first time the title has been uttered, but it has certainly been swirling around in your mind. 

She nods with an undeniable confidence because to her, it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Yes, and I am yours."

There’s a saying: actions speak louder than words. So, rather than proclaim how much her words mean to you, you capture her lips once more for a kiss. Hands find their way underneath her shirt, tracing the curves and lines you've come to know so well. And as the intensity continues to build, Alexia attempts to back you against a wall, but when you take a step back you end up tripping over a box, stumbling backward.

Alexia tries to catch you, but her foot gets caught up in something and she ends up losing her balance as well. You find yourself in a tangled mess of limbs and unable to control your laughter. 

“You weren’t kidding,” she says, extending her hand to help you up. “This place is a mess.” 

You nod in agreement, hands on your hips, "Someone keeps sneaking in at night and turning the place upside down."

"Really?"

“No,” you drop the facade and smirk, "Carla and I are just incapable of cleaning up after ourselves."

Alexia chuckles and shakes her head, a fond smile playing on her lips as she takes in the chaos that surrounds the two of you.

"I've got to go back” you wrap your arms around Alexia's neck, drawing her closer for a quick peck on her cheek. “Duty calls.”

Alexia nods in understanding. "Can’t leave our girl stranded.”

Walking out of the backroom, you’re relieved to not see Carla overwhelmed by a long line at the counter. 

“We really need to get that place in order,” you tell Carla, pointing back to the stockroom.

Carla grimaces, “I know,” she says, “I hate to say it, but we might need to stay late today and clean up in case that idiot actually decides to show up.”

Alexia, who has been listening to the conversation, raises her hand. "I’m happy to help if you need an extra hand."

Carla looks at Alexia, then back at you with desperation in her eyes, “we definitely do.” 

A part of you wants to say no because you know Alexia needs the rest, but you can already feel the muscles in your back start to tighten from all the heavy lifting that awaits you. With Alexia's help, the task of cleaning the backroom would be much more manageable.

So you give in, “Ok,” you point your finger at Alexia rather sternly, “go home, get some rest and we’ll see you here at closing.”

"So bossy,” Alexia playfully blows a kiss to you and says, "I’ll see you soon.”

Again, it’s the little things that make you fall more in love with her day by day.

__________________________

Tonight, your mom is teaching you how to cook her famous Fideuà which also happens to be one of Alexia’s favorite dishes. So, it’s only fitting that she’s by your side, helping you cook and correcting your many, many mistakes.

“Now, add the stock and wine and bring it to a simmer.”

Your mom, feeling a little too weak to stand, sits nearby at the counter, offering her guidance and expertise on the dish.

The atmosphere in the kitchen is light and filled with laughter as your mom and Alexia tease you mercilessly. The two hit it off right away, so much so that sometimes you feel like the third wheel. And while you may pout and complain, you love to see your mom regain that spark in her eyes that you love so much. All she’s ever wanted is for you to be happy. Your happiness is her happiness. So, when she sees you with Alexia, laughing and smiling, she’s satisfied.

“Oh, my beautiful daughter has always been a handful, Ale. I remember the day I found a nude magazine under her bed.”

Alexia chokes on the wine, a little bit spilling from the corners of her lips.

“Mama!”

Your mom brushes you off, a smirk on her lips. “She gave me this ridiculous excuse, saying it was to study the female form for a painting she was working on.”

“It was!”

“Mi amor, you’re a woman — all you had to do was look in a mirror. You didn’t need three magazines for that.”

You cover your face with your hands in embarrassment, “dios, please make it stop.” 

Alexia shares a look with your mom, and they burst into laughter.

Thankfully, the teasing comes to end, and you can focus back on the dish that you so desperately don’t want to mess up again.

"I tried so many times to make this when I was in France, but wow, it tasted terrible," you confess, shaking your head.

Your mom speaks up, her voice gentle but firm. "You see, that’s why it's important that I teach you these things while I can."

Feeling as though someone has punched you in the stomach, you turn your back to her, and you try to suppress the tears that threaten to spill. Her words serve as a painful reminder of the possibility of losing her.

Alexia quickly notices your distress and kisses your shoulder, providing you with that little bit of comfort you need to gather your emotions. To lighten the mood, she shares a few of her own cooking horror stories, making you laugh and successfully distracting you from the sadness that had momentarily gripped you.

After dinner, you take Alexia by the hand and lead her to your childhood bedroom turned art studio. Her eyes go wide with curiosity and admiration. "So, this is where the magic happens," she says. "I love it," Alexia breathes, her gaze darting around the room, taking in every detail.

You walk over to a corner where several canvases lean against the wall, each one partially covered with a cloth. Gently, you pull them away to reveal the paintings you've been working on for the upcoming exhibit.

Alexia gasps in awe, her eyes drinking in the vibrant colors and intricate details of each piece. "Incredible, mi amor.”

You feel your cheeks flush at the compliment. "When I got the news of my mom, I felt like I didn’t have anyone to talk to. I had so much built up and I needed to just let it all out. And this is what came out.”

It only takes Alexia a few seconds to understand the meanings behind every piece. She reaches her hand out to you, and you take it seeking the comfort you can only get from her touch. She wraps her arms around your waist and rests her chin on your shoulder, "I can’t tell you that everything will be ok, but I can promise that I will be here for you, no matter what."

You believe her.

__________________________

Your favorite nights are the ones spent with Alexia. In her arms you feel safe and at peace. Somehow, she keeps your anxieties and worst fears far, far away. As your fingers gently trace the contours of her face, you feel a warmth and happiness you never want to go a day without. It turns out this isn’t just a fleeting infatuation, after all. Your love for her is real. 

"I love you," you murmur, voice warm and sincere.

Alexia eyes flutter open and she smiles, "I love you too.” 

Her words ignite something in you that has laid dormant in you for far too long. Your mind begins to race with ideas, colors, and compositions. It's as if a dam within you has burst, releasing this desire to express your love for her through your art. It's a powerful sensation that you simply cannot ignore and it demands you to act on it immediately.

With a sense of urgency, you jump out of bed and run to grab the sketchbook you carry with you everywhere in your bag.

“What are you doing?” Alexia calls out, her voice full of curiosity and a hint of amusement. 

With no attempt to explain yourself, you reach for her vanity stool and place it a few feet away from the bed. The pencil in your hand starts to glide across the paper capturing the lines and curves of her body. Carefully, you study the gentle curve of her neck and the way her hair cascades over the pillow.

Alexia, now catching on to the reason behind your outburst, remains still. A comforting silence takes over the room, broken only by the sound of the pencil dancing across the page.

But the more you look at her and take in every detail of her body, the more restless she becomes. Her hands grip the bed sheet, teeth tugging on her bottom lip. With one swift motion, the sheets that cover her body fall to the ground as she gets up from the bed and walks over to you.

Hovering above you, she takes the sketchbook from your hands and sets it aside. Looking up at her, she brushes a strand of hair from your face and tucks in behind your ear. “I love how you look at me,” she whispers.

Her touch is so tender, and her words so genuine that makes you feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

You feel compelled to drop down to your knees.

Hands run up and down the back of her thighs, nails digging in ever so slightly into her skin. You press your lips against her navel, and then trail down ever so slowly.

Alexia’s breath hitches with each kiss. She rests her hand on your head, her fingers threading through your hair as she gasps your name. The sound of her voice, breathy and filled with desire, sends a shiver down your spine.

When your tongue reaches her most sensitive spot, Alexia lifts her leg and rests it on the vanity stool, allowing you better access to her.

“Oh…”

With every gentle stroke and teasing touch, you proclaim your love. And in response, Alexia's holds you firmly in place, a clear indication she has no interest in ever letting you go.

And then her eyes lock onto yours, you see that same intensity that left you speechless when you first saw her — really saw her, but now you also see love in her gaze. Ever since that day in the coffee shop you have been at her mercy. But now as she trembles with pleasure by your hand and tongue, she’s the one begging for it.

Throughout the rest of the night, you take your time exploring and memorizing every curve and dip of Alexia's body with your lips. You're determined to commit every detail to memory to ensure that when it’s time, you’ll be able to capture her image her to perfection on the canvas.

__________________________

With a step back, you take a moment to appreciate the progress you've made on the painting. In a trance, the hours you've spent working on it have flown by. The creative block that has plagued you has lost its control over you.

And you have Alexia to thank.

The painting is inspired by the sketch you made that night. The sheet drapes over her body, revealing just enough of her silhouette to create a sense of mystery and allure. The image draws you in and entices you to want more, to see more. Although covered, you can see the toned contours of her body, from the definition in her arms to the powerful muscles in her legs.

Her knee peeks out from the bed sheets and a small yet very significant scar can be seen. The scar tells a story of overcoming obstacles and pushing through no matter. It’s a testament to her strength and her ability to rise above challenges and come out on top, stronger than before.

You continue working late into the night, each brushstroke bringing you closer to immortalizing Alexia. The painting still requires a lot of work to reach the level of perfection you desire, but you’re determined to have it done in time for the exhibit.

It’s the final, missing piece. They very piece that alluded you, and the very one you had given up on. But liked you hoped, it did make its way to you eventually. And it did so in the shape of the woman you fallen in love with.  

__________________________

Waiting for the doctor always feels like an eternity. You hate everything about the room you’re in. The sterile environment, the faint smell of disinfectant, and the uncomfortable silence that only serves as a constant reminder of the pain and suffering your mom has had to endure.

Incapable of sitting down, you remain standing, hands wringing together as your heart beats rapidly in your chest. Each visit to this room has been a roller coaster of emotions, leaving you with a sense of dread every time you step foot inside. Even the ticking sound of the clock feels like a signal of impending heartache.

"Is Ale nervous for the game?"

Every time you've been in this room, all you've heard is bad news after bad news. The crushing weight of your mother's cancer hangs over you like a dark cloud, making it nearly impossible to focus. You long for the day when you can walk into this room without feeling like the world is collapsing around you.

"Mija?"

"Hmm?"

"The game against Real Madrid is later today, right?"

You manage a small smile, appreciating her attempt to ease your tension. "Yeah, it's today."

She smiles, her eyes sparkling with pride. Unlike you, she’s made her peace with it all. "I'm sure she'll do great."

Just as you're about to respond, the door opens, and the doctor walks in, a gentle smile on his face. Your heart races as you brace yourself for the news.

"I have good news for both of you," he begins, his tone warm and reassuring. "Lídia, the treatment has been effective. The latest blood tests show that you are in remission.”

As the doctor's words sink in, disbelief, relief, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude wash over you in waves. After so long of only getting bad news, it's hard to believe that this moment has finally come. You've spent countless nights lying awake, fearing the worst. 

You glance over at your mom, searching her face for any sign that this is just another cruel dream and that you’ll wake up from. But her eyes, filled with tears of joy, tell you that this is real and for the first time in so long, you breathe a sigh of relief.

"Really? Are you sure?" Your mom asks, disbelief and hope mixed in her voice.

"Yes, Lídia, I'm certain," he confirms. "The next step is consolidation treatment help prevent a relapse, but as of now, you're in remission and that is very good news."

Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you rush to her side, enveloping her in a tight embrace. She holds you close, tears of joy and relief streaming down both of your faces.

"You’re going to be ok," you manage to choke out between sobs.

Amidst the whirlwind of emotions, you remember that Alexia had asked you to text her about the results. She wanted to know and be there for you, regardless of the outcome.

With trembling fingers, you pull out your phone and type a message to Alexia:

📲 – she’s in remission!!!!!!!!

📲 – we’re still shock but I’ll tell you everything later

📲 – good luck today!! I love you ♥️ ♥️ ♥️

The two of you make it back to the house in time to watch El Clásico. Even though you’re not there in person, you can tell the atmosphere in the stadium is electric. Every time Alexia appears on the screen, your heart swells up with pride.

The game is tense. Both teams are playing their hearts out, and while you try to pay attention to everything and every player, like Alexia has taught you, you're especially focused on her performance. Suddenly, she intercepts a pass from a Madrid player and makes a break for it.

Your heart races as you watch her weave through the defenders, getting closer and closer to the goal. Your eyes go wide when Alexia strikes the ball and sends it soaring into the net. The crowd goes wild, and you and your mom jump up from the couch, cheering and clapping.

Alexia's teammates swarm around her, congratulating her on the goal. Instead of walking away back to her position with the rest of the team, she points at the camera and then lifts up her jersey.

 To your surprise, she reveals the words "Un pasito más, Lídia!" written on her undershirt. Just one more step.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at your mom, who is just as shocked as you are. Tears fill her eyes as she covers her mouth, touched by Alexia's dedication to her.

The little things matter, yes. But sometimes, the grand gestures sure do mean a lot too.

__________________________

Some time has passed since your mom went into remission and although there have been significant improvements in her health, there are still days when she doesn't feel her best. Today is one of those days, and unfortunately, it also happens to be the opening of the art exhibit.

As you gather your things to leave, you glance at your mom sitting on the couch, wrapped in a warm blanket, looking a little pale and weary. Disappointment is evident in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, mi niña" she says, her voice heavy with regret. "I really wanted to be there for you tonight.”

You walk over and sit next to her, taking her hand in yours. "Mama, you’re not missing anything crazy. Besides, you’ll be there for the next exhibit, the one after that, and the one after that."

Your mother smiles weakly and nods. "I'm so proud of you,” she says, “tell Carla and Ale to take lots of pictures!”

“"I will, mama,” you say with a chuckle as lean down give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Tia should be here in a few minutes. Please, get some rest.”

When you step outside and close the door, you allow yourself to feel the disappointment you hid from her. Considering that all but one of the pieces are dedicated to her, of course you wanted her there. But still, you’re determined to make the most of this night to honor her and everything she has been through.

At the exhibit, you're accompanied by Carla. The gallery is buzzing with excitement, and your art has garnered a lot of attention and praise. However, you find it hard to take in the moment because Alexia is running late. Very late. The fact that she hasn't replied to any of your messages certainly doesn’t help.

Carla noticing your concern, rests a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I'm sure she'll be here any minute.”

You nod, attempting to stay focused on the event, but it's difficult not to let your emotions show. “I’m just worried that’s all.”

“I know, but she’s probably stuck in traffic or can’t find parking. You know-” of the sudden, her gaze drifts past you and towards the entrance and her eyes go wide.

Confused, you turn around to see what caught Carla’s attention. By the entrance, you see Alexia walk in with your mom by her side, holding on to her hand. Your mom looks tired but determined.

You rush towards them, shocked and tears threatening to stream down your face. "Mama! You're here!”

Alexia grins sheepishly. "I was on my here when she called me to pick her up and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I see where you get it from."

Still holding on to Alexia, you mom smiles and reaches out for you. "I couldn't let you down, mija. I just had to be here with you."

You embrace them both, overwhelmed by their presence. “I’m so happy you’re both here.”

With them by your side, the night becomes even that more special. Nothing feels better than being able to introduce your mom to fellow artists and attendees.

Eventually, a reporter from a local arts magazine pulls you aside for a brief interview, asking about the various pieces you have displayed at the exhibit.

He’s particularly interested in one. "The Missing Piece is truly something special," the reporter says, his eyes locked on the painting. "What’s the significance of its title?”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, your gaze lingering on the painting. "At first, it felt like there was a piece missing for the exhibit, but it turns out that it was something I was missing from my own life."

You glance over at Alexia, who is admiring your artwork with your mom and Carla. "And when, I finally found it, everything changed. My missing piece brought me a sense of completeness and balance that I desperately needed.”

The reporter smiles. "Your feelings are evident in this piece, and it's no wonder it's drawing so much attention tonight."

"My mentor used to say that wherever the eyes go, so does the heart. And wherever the heart goes, so do the hands. The piece will live forever, and a hundred years from now someone will look at it and they’ll feel exactly what feel.”

“And what’s that?”

You glance over at Alexia once again. Almost as if she senses your gaze, she turns to meet your eyes. With a knowing smile, she winks at you, acknowledging the connection between the two you and the inspiration behind The Missing Piece.

“Love.”

[guilty-pleasures21]

The heretic princess

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Warnings: none.

----------------------------------------------------------

     Your eyes scan the words on the page, reading and re-reading the letter your dearest friend had sent you. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe you should just go home and- You gasp as the letter is snatched out of your hand, then you turn to glare at the culprit. “Hey-”

     “Are you going to continue pining over his letter or are you going to do something about it?” The High Priestess fixes you with a challenging look, giving you a moment to consider her words. It had been three months since you’d arrived at the Temple, spirited away by your supporters who would see you seated on the throne beside Miguel - not some spoiled and senseless daughter of a common man who had somehow worked his way into the Royal Court. Of course you had protested - questioned how you could possibly turn your friend's affections towards you when he couldn't even see you! But the best way for Miguel to develop feelings for you was by forcing him to miss you; forcing him to understand how much you truly meant to him. That was what the Head Priestess had said anyway. 

     “Your pen and paper will only be able to hold his attention for so long,” she continues, pulling a fresh sheet of paper out of your drawer. “We must continue your training if you are to win his affections and become Queen.” 

     You sigh as she sets the blank page before you. “How am I to win his affections if he cannot even see me?!”

     Iset frowns disapprovingly at your raised voice. You were fourteen now: much too old to be throwing tantrums over a boy you liked. Especially considering that the boy in question was to be King one day. You would have to comport yourself much more elegantly if you were to convince the Prince that you would make a fine bride for him - the only bride for him. She folds her arms across her chest, maintaining her stern expression. “He will see you when he can bear it no longer. When he has fallen in love with your mind and your words are no longer enough for him.”

     Your brows furrow in confusion. “But … how will I know?”

     Iset raises her eyebrows, giving you a knowing look. “Because he will make sure that you do.” 

     Your stomach flips at her words and you turn back to your desk to begin crafting your reply.

     Miguel tapped his fingers on the table, bored. He was quickly growing tired of the favour his mother insisted on showering upon the Lady Dina - the oldest daughter of one of her good friends. It was obvious to everyone that she was pushing for their marriage, but there was absolutely no way he would marry someone who was so … so silly! Yes, she was beautiful, but he’d quickly discovered that it wasn’t enough to hold his attention. The girl thought of nothing besides her looks and her clothes and her jewellery, what support could she possibly provide him once he became King? He rose out of his seat, drawing everyone’s gazes his way. 

     “I will retire to my chambers now,” he informed the room. “Thank you all for being here tonight.”

     He could hear his mother gasp and hiss at Lady Dina to follow after him, so he picked up his pace, marching out of the room before he could be sucked into another inane conversation. He slowed down as he approached his chambers, relaxing once he was safely away from all the eligible ladies his mother had selected to become his next queen. Well, maybe not his queen, but someone respectable enough to carry his seed and birth his heir - that was the more important thing right now. 

     “My Prince.” Miguel stopped in front of his door as a messenger approached him, bowing low in greeting. “You have received a letter.” 

     His heart sped up as he took the scroll from the messenger’s hands. Only one person’s letters were delivered straight to his private chamber, no matter the time. He rushed into his rooms, unfurling the scroll and setting it down on his desk. 

     ‘My dearest Miguel,’ you’d written, ‘I am glad to hear that you have almost caught up to me with regards to your linguistic education. Perhaps I should take on another language myself?’ 

     Gods, he could practically see your face, your lips curling into a mischievous smile as you teased him. He and Kai had tried to sneak into the temple a few times to see you, but the terrifying Head Priestess had always caught them and sent them marching back home, heads bowed in defeat. Did you look much the same? Or had you grown in the last two years, just as he had? Would your body be more filled out the next time he saw you, your curves more pronounced? It wasn’t something he’d ever considered before, but now that he’d matured, he couldn’t help the thought from crossing his mind. 

     ‘Although being in the Temple does not give me much opportunity to socialise, I have worked on my charm wherever I can, even coaxing a snicker out of that grumpy old priestess I had told you everyone was terrified of!’

     He chuckled at that. You had always been a charmer, lighting up every room you entered with your warm and friendly smile. It had served you well in overcoming the legacy your family had left you: the last true Royal, niece of the deposed ‘Heretic Queen’. You had been orphaned at such a young age and then taken in by the new king who had taken over the throne - his grandfather. And how easy it had been for you to win their hearts, you with your sweet smile and your thoughtful kindness and your humble intelligence.

     ‘I must be sure to thank Kai for looking after you when you are training out in the desert. I would not be able to stand it if anything were to happen to you, my darling duckie.’

     He could feel his heart flutter at the tender term of endearment you had attached to his childhood nickname. You’d never addressed him in such a manner when you’d still been in the palace, but you’d started showering your letters with them, always referring to him as your darling, your dearest, yours. He wondered what the words would sound like in your voice, your warm smile aimed at him and him alone as you stretched up to run your fingers through his hair. 

     ‘I cannot believe that your coronation is approaching so quickly! I know in my heart that you will make a fair and just king, one who will be remembered by history for his wisdom. And I am sure that the woman you choose to stand by your side will make an excellent queen to our people. But I do also hope, my dearest duckie, that she will be a fulfilling companion for you as well. Someone who matches your clever wit and with whom you can entrust all your secrets, share all your burdens. And you know, my darling friend, that you will always have my support in whatever decision you take, no matter the circumstance. Yours, Y/N’

     Miguel sighed and sank back into his seat at the reminder. An excellent queen to her people. Someone who would know how to charm visiting emissaries and make them comfortable enough to spill all their secrets to her … He pursed his lips as he ran a finger over your elegant script. The woman he would choose … A fulfilling companion, someone who would support him in every decision he would make, who would share his burdens so that he would never have to shoulder them alone. His gaze fell to the word you’d written before your name: your promise that you were his … Then he took out his stylus and began writing his response. 

     You rush out of your room and into the hallway, the scroll clutched tightly in your hand like some sort of precious treasure. But to you, it was a treasure: a confirmation that the goal you had been working towards for the past two years was finally coming to fruition. The Head Priestess had been right after all. You stop when you see her making her way towards you with equal frenzy, a matching scroll fluttering in her elegant fingers.

     “Princess!” she exclaims, rushing down the hallway. “I have just received a letter from the Prince himself! He has specifically requested your presence at his coronation next week. And at the celebrations after!” 

     Her eyes are wide with surprise, but her lips curl at the ends in victory. All the head priests and priestesses of the temples surrounding the capital were required to attend the coronation and recognise the new king on behalf of each of the Gods and Goddesses of the pantheon, so it was not customary for the Prince to send a letter reaching out to the temples personally. Unless there was something - or someone - he wanted there specifically. You hurry forward, closing the distance between the two of you. 

     “Yes! I have received his letter as well! He said …” Your stomach flips as you recall his words; his passionate plea for you to return to the palace and be by his side once again. You straighten, remembering all your training on how to carry yourself if you are to be Queen - when you are Queen. “He said that he requests my presence not just as my future king, but also as my best friend.”

     Iset narrows her eyes as her mind begins running through all the items you will need to pack for your trip back home. 

     “Hmm, yes.” You watch her carefully, waiting for her response. Finally, she spins on her heel and starts marching back down the hallway. “Come. We have much to prepare.”

[atrustfulplace]

looking at 911 and shows that queer bait makes me feel deranged. because like i’ve seen all the classic queer bait shows, some of which i ship (destiel), some of which i don’t (johnlock) and some i can go either way on (merlin/arthur). To me what makes me look at a story and decide whether i ship the characters is the question: would this make a better story if they were together? Usually i can see the straight explanation as possible but often i think it makes for a less intresting story. like dean could have had completely platonic feelings for cas and he just thought of him as a bestie, but the story and deans character become WAY more intresting if he was queer of some kind and in love with cas. Stuff that doesn’t have the same meaning for a straight person, can be world defining if the character is queer (ex: john having him kill the lesbian nuns). it’s that simple to me, destiel makes the story better.

now let’s look at 911, specifically eddie diaz. like i mentioned i can always see the straight explanation, stories can make sense without a character being queer, often they are just worse ones. eddie is my exception, i legitimately cannot see his story as anything other than that of a closeted gay man. like let’s take buck out of this, like the shipper goggles are off here, his and bucks relationship is fruity as fuck but it doesn’t even have to be counted to argue for a gay eddie.

like you have this character and he married the first woman he sleeps with because she gets pregnant and they are both catholic so they are pressured into marriage. he joins the army to get away from her and the responsibility. he would literally rather be SHOT AT than be married to his wife. when he finally gets back home he and his wife fight constantly, he will not give up the simplistic of things to support the needs of a woman who has put her life on hold for years so he could runaway from his family. she leaves, giving no phone number or address and the man is now a single father. years pass and they meet again, not because he wanted her in his life but because he needed her. she tells him that she’s pregnant again and he proposes to her again. she dies and he spends years using her as an excuse to no date women. (all the while growing incredibly close and co-dependent with his best friend who helps raise his child with him). when he finally starts dating again it is because everyone in his life is telling him he should, the relationship gets serious and when someone implies they have a serious future together he has a panic attack so bad he falls over and goes to the hospital. he breaks up with her because he was only dating her because his son loved her. again he spends years before dating again, saying when asked that why he isn’t dating is because his late wife was the love of his life, the woman who he spent LESS THAN A YEAR LIVING IN THE SAME SPACE WITH, WHO IN THAT TIME HE WOULD CONSTANTLY FIGHT WITH, but she was who he was meant to be with. ok eddie sure. when asked why he hates dates he says it’s because he has to pretend. he dates another woman after his family and friends pressure him again. he asks her to move in with him way to soon then quickly comes up with an excuse not to have sex with her, she moves out, they still date. he meets the carbon copy of his dead wife who he proceeds to have an emotional affair with, not physical at all, all his relationships implode from the fall out.

like this story doesn’t make sense for someone who is not gay. the pressure from the church, the denial about the realities of his marriage as an excuse not to date, HAVING A PANIC ATTACK WHEN HE THINKS ABOUT MARRYING A WOMAN, making exuses not to have sex. on its own maybe i could believe he is straight but together it literally does not make sense if he was. the stuff they add to make him seem more straight (dead wife obsession) is what convinces me the most that he is gay!!!!!

the funniest part is that if they actually made him gay they could have one of the most well written and authentic portrayals of deeply held internalized homophobia, repression, coming out later in life, and ultimately choosing happiness and love despite all of those challenges. like he makes me insane, i don’t even like him that much!!! like he’s tied with every other character on the show for me. but he confuses me in a way that none of the other characters come near touching. like eddie diaz I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE!!!!

tld r: eddie diaz as a character does not make sense as anything other than as a closeted gay man.

[onyourowndaisymae]

would i follow these obey me characters on social media? + social media headcanons

explanations + hcs below the cut:

content warnings: playful mentions of cyberbullying/death threats (reader's discretion advised)

post notifications on, loyal mutuals for life: thirteen, barbatos, mammon, satan

you cannot convince me thirteen does not have the funniest fucking twitter imaginable. she posts a lot of funny shit herself but also retweets a lot of good content too. she seems like the type to get in fights on social media and win by humiliating her opponent in the funniest way possible. probably makes a lot of jokes about fucking one or both of your parents

the barbatos one might be controversial but hear me out. i think that any account he'd run in association to his work would be dry as hell. but a personal, deeply private account? funny as FUCK. i think this man wouldn't post very often but when he does, it is quite literally some of the funniest shit you've ever seen. he's ancient, too, so i think he'd be persistent. just years of logging on to tell elon musk to k*ll himself (whiCH I AM NOT ENDORSING @ THE GOV IM JUST MAKING A JOKE OKAY WE'RE ALL LAUGHING HERE) in new and creative ways

mammon would probably post a lot about his shenanigans and that to me is worth tuning in to. i think his social media would consist of him posting about a new scheme/plan part of the way through (when things are most exciting) and then updating hours/days later with an "update: lucifer caught me and made me wear a dunce hat for a week straight" or something like that

satan would post the most normally in this category but i think he'd have some genuinely interesting stuff. he'd probably use a photo-based platform like instagram (technically devilgram but y'know what i mean) and his content would fall into two categories: cat pics and the most amazing, exclusive events you've ever seen. he'll post a photo dump of cats he feeds one week and then next is him at some gorgeous exclusive hot springs on a free trip one of his connections invited him on.

mutuals by choice <3: asmo, simeon, luke, levi

asmo posts a lot about himself, but like. c'mon. he's so pretty. and he also just posts a lot of pretty aesthetic influencer photos so it's nice to see him on your feed. he posts a lot, too, so your feed never quite runs dry when he's your mutual. he's also the type to hype your photos up in the comments like you're the only other person on the platform. lots of heart emojis and flirtatious comments on very mundane posts

simeon would be fun to follow in the way that old people are fun to follow on social media. long, sweet captions on his weekly post (that someone helped him post), cute but off-center selfies with the things he cares about, funny grandpa comments on your photos-- ex. "nice photo mc... 👍" without realizing how funny that comes off

luke is just cute and posts cute things. lots of stray animals, pretty sunsets, and cute baked goods. he's even got a few rare photos of barbatos on there looking slightly relaxed. levi made luke's accounts private when he first set them up bc he's been on too many weird corners of the internet to let that innocent angel be corrupted.

speaking of levi, he'd post a LOT about his dorky (affectionate) interests. he's one of the few that would post every day on multiple platforms. there's a pretty small chance you care about each and every thing he posts but regardless, it's nice to see him so enthused and happy.

mutuals bc i'd feel bad unfollowing: belphie, lucifer, diavolo, mephisto

belphie's accounts have all been inactive for YEARS, but if you unfollow him he does get offended. he found out asmo unfollowed him at some point and started an argument about it.

lucifer's social media is also rarely active, but anything he posts is usually at least a little important, so if you unfollow he'll know and get on you about missing it.

diavolo's account is quite literally all royal bullshit and official devildom information, but seeing as he doesn't have personal social media, he still values his friends following him. if you unfollow, his feelings will be hurt, but he'll stay quiet about it.

mephisto's account literally just posts the same lame shit that the RAD newspaper account does, word-for-word and post-for-post. unfollowing either of these accounts comes off as a slight from the feeble human that doesn't care about the devildom. his complaining is always so loud.

not following + no plans to follow: beel, raphael

beel posts exclusively about food. he doesn't run a food-themed account, that's literally all he finds interesting enough to post. he rates all of his meals after he finishes, too. fun, but not my type of content.

something in my heart of hearts tells me raphael's photos are all blurry. like he just thinks his D.D.D. camera is bad when really he won't focus the damn camera before taking a pic.

blocked, reported, cyberbullied for good measure: solomon

i KNOW this man is a menace on social media. he probably eggs on conspiracy theorists and purposely spreads misinformation. it's funny at first until following him starts filling your feed with the crazy bullshit he likes/retweets. he is playing devil's advocate on social media for the dumbest, most argumentative people online bc he thinks it's funny and it's quite literally going to drive you insane if you don't block him. when he's causing problems, he's posting stupid shit. he'd be the type to unironically post the "saw a snail today. effervescent" shit

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Chelo Alonso (Sign of Rome Morgan the Pirate La ragazza sotto il lenzuolo)— She was an international star, and she was so hot she had to turn down marrying a prince, and became so famous for being hot that Fidel Castro sent Che Guevara to beg her to go back to Cuba. She was also called the Cuban H-Bomb. She makes me light-headed.

Ingrid Bergman (Gaslight, Casablanca, Notorious)—Where do I even begin with Ingrid Bergman? I fell in love with her with her astounding performance in the 1956 version of Anastasia -- the best Anastasia movie in large part due to her wonderful and touching performance. She's got this amazing, fascinating intensity to her in whatever role she's in. She commits 100%, and she's got this light in whatever she's in that's stunning. She's utterly convincing no matter what she plays, from an amnesiac possible lost princess, from a nun, from a woman taking her revenge on the town that wronged her, to light romantic comedy. She's never missed in any role I've seen her in! Also she became quite the MILF.

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Chelo Alonso:

"forgive me sending in more pictures of her but i CANNOT be normal about here asdhgkljhahgjkhgkajshgajghshgjl"

Ingrid Bergman:

God, she's fantastic. She's both beautiful and a compelling actor who's more than capable of putting the whole movie on her shoulders if necessary. It's worth noting that while her beauty is conventional, she was seen as refreshingly "natural" with more eyebrows and less makeup than many other leading ladies of the time. She's well known for her role in Casablanca, but in Notorious, Spellbound, (both available on archive.org ) and Gaslight (1944) she shows how immensely capable she is.

I mean...she's Ingrid Bergman. I feel like that should be enough, you know? She's physically beautiful (her eyes!) but watching her is like a transcendent experience. Her voice, her expressions... beautiful woman, beautiful actor.

I'm a gay man but even I understand her appeal. I'll watch any movie she shows up in. Gorgeous woman.

Just try and watch her movies without sighing wistfully, then get back to me!

Choosing 1-3 movies where Bergman was at her hottest was agony because, of course, she was always at her hottest. Not just because she was beautiful but because she was absolutely willing to go up against the bs women in Hollywood were constantly dealing with. When exiled from Hollywood for having an affair with Roberto Rossellini, not only did she refuse to apologize at any point, but she went on to say that Hollywood's films had grown stagnant and boring to her. Though she said she appreciated her time working there, she wanted to try new, different techniques (hence starring in Italian neorealist films, working on stage, and acting under directors like Ingmar Bergman). She was not afraid to chase after her artistic ideals and go outside the box regardless of what society had to say about it. From her first movie to her last she killed it. There's so much more to say about Bergman's career and life, but I've already written five million words so I'll stop at that.

ion words so I'll stop at that.

One of the most incredible actors I've ever seen on film. Her facial expressions are so intricate and poignant that I cannot look away. I'm either ace or straight, but damn she made me question that.

SEVEN TIME OSCAR NOMINEE QUEEN. Girl also PULLED, having affairs with famously hot men Gary Cooper and Gregory Peck IN ADDITION to her three marriages...sexy

She has a very natural beauty to her, and she's from Sweden!

She left Hollywood and only became more beautiful. You could drown in her eyes. She can look innocent AND like she's seen it all. She is effortlessly elegant. She's played Joan of Arc (automatically hot) AND was in the movie that coined gaslight as a term. And where would we be without that!

She was known for being a breath of fresh air on the movie scene at the time with her windswept hair, dreamy smile and soulful eyes. I have loved her in every movie I have seen her in - she was just magnetic!

Where do I even start. There's a neighborly quality to this beautiful, talented actress that makes her hotness one of a kind and her looks impossible to forget

With a career spanning five decades, Bergman is often regarded as one of the most influential screen figures in cinematic history. Known for her naturally luminous beauty, Bergman spoke five languages – Swedish, English, German, Italian and French – and acted in each.

She's hot, don't get me wrong, but I've always found her very approachable, like she could easily be a member of my friend group

A lot of the time hotness in a movie is just about words and framing. "You're the most beautiful person here" [vaseline lens] well I sure hope so because that's who you cast. But when, in Casablanca, they call Ingrid Bergman the most beautiful woman in the world... they were not fucking lying. And such a dynamite actor too!! I'd only seen Casablanca up until last year, and there she's confined to love interest. But in Gaslight she was maybe one of the most incredible actors I've ever seen!!!! Goddddd shes so fucking hot and cool.

[elainsgirl]

honestly gwynriels are some of the rudest people i’ve seen on tumblr, tiktok and instagram. they will push their way into elriel spaces and shove their theories down your throat as if it’s facts. and not to mention the recent thing with that instagram post where it seemed like elriel emojis were either the top comment or somehow an easter egg for the next book. their response? spamming the comments with “gwynriel” emojis. like… how are you so insecure about your ship that you feel the need to overwhelm the other ship’s comments under a singular post? while i can’t say for sure — because i straight up refuse to properly read gwynriel posts anymore as i’ve found their posts to be either repetitive (probably because they have 🤏 this much canon content to work with), nonsensical or downright completely making stuff up to support their theories — i don’t think i’ve ever seen elriels push themselves into gwynriel spaces and straight up attack them (thinking back on when i was new to the fandom and was exposed to all the different ships). of course there are always bad apples, but they seem to be rare amongst elriels. idk maybe i’ve just created a nice space for myself and somehow avoided them

There’s bad apples in every side of the fandom. I’ve seen elriels be mean and degrading as well as antis - but In my personal opinion or experience, toxic elriel stans are just…trolls. Whereas with Gwynriel and Elucien - yes some of them are trolls but their main toxicity comes from their arguements which are popular and widely accepted. Whereas with elriel - we genuinely don’t have a toxic elriel arguement that is supported by so many.

As an example:

A popular Elucien take is that Lucien deserves to be happy therefore Elain needs to accept the bond so Lucien can get his hea - That take is toxic and a bit degrading towards Elain however it is an acceptable thing to say with the majority of eluciens. 8/10 ask an elucien why they ship them and they’ll give you the above reason.

With elriel - I cannot think of a toxic take that is widely accepted by elriels. Not to say Elriels haven’t come up with horrible or degrading takes towards Lucien/Gwyn - but its not widely accepted. Take some believing that Gwyn is an “evil” LS. Maybe 4/10 elriels would agree but mainly - none of us think she’s evil. Possibly manipulated? Yes. But having nefarious intentions? No.

You get my point?

What they did with that instagram post was just downright embarrassing. Like there is no other way to word it - it was icky, pathetic and honestly. For me, it just solidified they are very very insecure in their ship and as people, petty. Bcs wtf childish behaviour was that??? And now crying over someone theorising Elain being an LS when majority have hated Gwyn being an Ls for so long. Its just. Im so glad to be an elriel. & grateful elriels dont behave like they do on average.

LMFAO you’re so real for that bcs I do not keep up with Gwynriel or elucien posts. It requires a whole different type of anti logic to understand.

I think when elriels comment under anti stuff, 95% of the time its by accident or people just wanting to have a genuine conversation but when antis comment under elriel content, 99.999% of the time its to rile elriels up. Atp, im convinced they dont even gaf about you refuting their points. They just want to spread their arguments and misinformation in a superior, condescending manner. Then you prove them wrong and they go crying about “elriels are soooo toxic” then boom, blocked you.

I love the elriel bubble I created for myself, it’s filled with good people who love elriel as much as I do. They’ve made this fandom such a bearable place to be in and its why I love creating elriel content. I wouldn’t change my mutuals and friends ive made through liking elriel for the world. And Im glad you’ve created that positive elriel space for yourself too.

[hereticdrws]

Aquarium date w mizu

A/n: did I just narrate my visit at the aquarium and add mizu? Possibly did I use quotes from me and my sister? Also maybe anygays I hope yall enjoy ☺️🤞 should I write a real fic w this? I alr got 1 in the works cough cough baseball mizu

Warnings: NOT PROOF READ idk I don't think there r any but lemme know if there r

Loser!Mizu x (masc?) Reader I tried to make it v neutral but I kinda self projected

Enjoy 😉

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

◇Def spends wayyyy to long on parking trying to find the perfect spot no matter how many times she's been

◇Tells you the scientific names of all the fish on the banners on the way in that are used to attract visitors

◇Tells you every fish related joke she knows while waiting in line to get in

◇Cannot stand up straight in the line to save her life she has to lean (but I mean who tf doesn't why tf would I stand up str8 when I can lean)

◇Tries to convince u to let her bring a fish home (you're not even allowed to)

◇Took 1000 pics of the baby penguins

◇(Also asked to take one home)

◇Does not shut up abt the smell

◇Says every cute thing in the exhibit looks like you

Ex:

After walking past the toucan exhibit we make our way toward the baby monkeys per mizus request, walking hand in hand and shoulder to well head because lord knows mizu is tall as shit.

Once we arrive at the monkey exhibit for the first time since arriving mizu releases her hand from yours

"Omg babe it looks just like you!" She eagerly points out

"It does??" You raise an eyebrow at the 5'7 woman towering you, questioning her ecstatic expression

"Yeah!!"

◇Tried to provoke the toucan

"OMG Y/N ITS THE BIRD FROM THE MEME" spends at least 15 minutes trying to find the meme

◇Made you carry her hoodie bc it was so humid

"Babe I told you not to bring it 🙄"

"I thought it'd be cold ☹️"

"Why are there only birds I hate birds"

"Because we're in the bird exhibit babe 😐"

"oh"

◇Pouts when she can't find the animal in the exhibit

"Babe did you know poison dart frogs are poisonous?"

Dies

"Babe stop ☹️"

◇Stuck her hand in the water 'bcuz she can'

"I bet I could survive that jump"

"No tf you wouldnt?"

◇You had to pay for the slushies bc she forgot her wallet (which she definitely owns) ((she doesn't own a wallet))

"BABE THERES FUCKING CROCODILES"

"Dude there's a kid right nxt 2 u"

"Babe wtf"

"What"

"Your mouth looks like a traffic cone"

☹️

◇Constantly asked what would happen if she threw smthing at an animal

Ex:

"What I'd I threw my slushie at the crocodile"

"I'll disown you"

◇Looks in disgust at all the babies and children

◇I cannot express how much she'd compare you to ever cute animal in the exhibit

◇Leans into u when she gets bored like srsly u are supporting this woman's entire body weight

◇Do not forget how CLINGY she is (totally not self projecting) she would not let go of your hand, not to mention she is constantly pressed to your side esp when walking she is js leaning into you (same 😔) she cannot walk in a straight line for the life of her

◇Mizu is either the most shameful person you've ever met or the most shameless

No inbetween

◇The facts omg So. Many. Facts it's acc insane

"Did you know the 'type of animal' is acc a direct descendant of-"

◇Has a donkey Kong lanyard u drag her around by so she doesn't wander off

"Omg that's literally us in another universe"

(Pic credits go to yours truly 😌)

"Omg yn that's a stone fish the one from the meme 😁🫵"

"What meme?"

😨 (she only scrolls on YouTube shorts or insta reels) ((idk why she's shocked))

◇Constantly pointing out how ugly a fish is

"If it were human it could NEVER pull you"

"???"

◇Spent at least an hour in the shark exhibit telling you the scientific names of all the diff species of them and where they originated from

◇Millions of pics of them everytime a shark swam by at least 25 pics would be taken

◇Everytime you tell her to pise for a pic with one of the exhibits she either puts up a thumbs up with the dumbest smile you've ever seen or accidently flips you off then rushes over to you drowning your face in kisses and apologizing over n over

◇Sitting/leaning every chance she gets (and pulling u down w her every chance she gets) ((she is so clingy I can't express it enough))

"When do we get to go to the gift shop?" ◇She asked every 2 seconds if she's not telling you the most outrageous 'facts' she learned from who tf knows where

"That bird is big as shit 😐"

◇Tries to stand like a flamingo falls not even 2 seconds later claiming you pushed her

◇Literally RAN for the shark plushies once yall got to the gift shop

◇Could not decide which one to get so u js bought her all of them bc ur so sweet/you couldn't decide which one to get so she bought you all of them (whichever u want)

◇Got lost in the parking lot trying to find yalls car

◇Yall stopped at chic fil a on your way home

◇Once yall got home you both changed into comfy clothes and layed down and cuddled ofc yall cuddled with mizus ridiculous amount of new shark plushies

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

A/n pt2: thank you for reading I hope yall like this ☺️

[ajxrn-archive]

Obviously I know (some) of your thoughts on Childe, but what do you think of the other harbingers?

YIPEE I love the harbingers ‼️ I’ll rant under the cut.. I had a huge obsession with the harbingers a few months back and I still do (in fact my brainrot is coming back so this is a perfect time for you to ask this)

Starting off with Pierro. I find him so interesting as a character because when I was diving into the lore of the harbingers I originally thought that he was number one?? Apparently he’s the director because capitano is no. 1.. I think that’s interesting. So what mainly intrigues me about him is the fact that he’s khaenri’ahn. The Tsaritsa has got to be different from the other Archons because of the fact she literally has a Khaenri’ahn man help run her military. I wonder what their relationship is with each other. Is it anything like dainslumi? I can picture it being that way but more cold, you know? The fact he’s based off the commedia dell’arte stock character Pierro (the fool/jester) is really interesting to me too.. they all have their connections to the characters in one way or another so I wonder what exactly his is.

Now onto Capitano. So far I think he is SO fucking cool he might be one of my favorite harbingers atp. Design wise it’s definitely a favorite but also the fact that he has so many similarities to Kaeya? If hyv were to make him related in some way to kaeya that would be so funny to me.. a lot of people do the pierro is kaeya’s dad thing but honesty I think Capitano would be a cooler connection lowkey? Also generally the ragbros situation would be 10x worse if kaeya was related to the fatui in some way, no matter which one it is. Anyways back on capitano, I’m mostly interested to see how his motives lay out and what his relationship with Mavuika is. The fight seen with him and her was so neat like the way they laid it out was so.. idk. I have a thing for fire/ice character relationships (not in a romantic way.) also what interests me even more about him is that The Captain in the commedia dell’arte is described as a ‘braggart’ type of person, so I’m wondering if he would use his ability to “convince people who knew nothing about him beforehand” to try and manipulate people in Natlan to revolt against Mavuika for the current issues and whatnot.

like I wonder how this'll play into his character in game/story wise. I hope he'll be playable sniff sniff.. Anyways, now onto this fucker!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dottore is one of my favorite harbingers. I am an avid Dottore enjoyer. He’s cunning and genuinely awful and there’s no redeeming his ass he’s going straight to hell 🙏 and that’s what makes him such a GOOD character. He genuinely has zero redeeming qualities about him. He literally uses people and children for his experiments without second thought. He has clones of himself. He possibly killed his girlfriend in his school days. (If the zandik lore is right.) He was literally expelled from the Akademiya because of how awful he was.

I cannot fathom how amazing of a character he is. I think in games we need to have more characters who are just genuinely fucking evil and we don’t just “hate” them for it. I honestly dislike how people hate him JUST because he did bad shit, like have a better reason than that tbh? "He hurt collei/He's the reason crepus died/he gave scara so much trauma" I LOVE ALL THREE OF THOSE GUYS AND DOTTORE</3 Don't hate one character only to love the next. anyways dottore supremacy..

Anywho, onto Columbina. Honestly she intrigues me so much. She's so powerful that not even childe wants to fight her, what is up with that??? I think its also interesting how in the commedia dell'arte her title is technically Little Dove but it’s Damselette in the game. we like,, do not know much about her at all to be honest?? The harbingers voice lines about her interest me so much, especially arle's. It's very. vague??

Arlecchino: "She is a very special Harbinger. Pose her a question, and the answer you receive will be entirely unpredictable, if she sees fit to give a proper answer at all. Regardless, any answer you do receive is sure to be an interesting one."

Childe: "The Fatui Harbingers are ranked by strength, and I have no idea why that girl is No. 3. I'd test my skills with every Harbinger who ranks above me if I had the chance, but when it comes to her... something just doesn't feel right. Anyway, you should be careful around her."

Scara/Wanderer: "Let me ask: what should you do if you were to encounter a "damsel" who is oblivious and innocent at any given time, and unconcerned and unfeeling in any given situation? If it were me, I could at least challenge her to a fight. But if it were you... with your conscience, I would stay away from her."

Judging by voice lines alone, columbina is very, very powerful. she seems to beat around the bush with questions (arles voiceline) and is very mysterious even with the other harbingers. (childe saying something doesn't feel right) I've seen theories that she belongs to the seele race which is honestly pretty cool, but I think i'd need to see her in game or hear more about her first. I'd assume that Arlecchino has a rather close/interesting relationship with columbina. Not purely because of the fact they do in the commedia dell'arte, but because she was the only one out of the three to not tell the traveler to be careful around/stay away from columbina.

Arlecchino herself is a really well written character to me and I notice that a lot of the fandom don't understand her entirely (myself included.) Something i notice the most is how people tend to dumb her down to the Father of the house of the hearth, either portraying her as a wonderful parent (incorrect) or as an awful one (also incorrect.) She's definitely a highly flawed person who does put her children in danger, although she absolutely cares about the children of the hearth. I wouldn't say she's a child abuser/groomer/any other stupid shit the fandom says about her. Her wiki quite literally says that she's flawed but not as awful as Crucabena:

Her (possibly?) being khaenri'ahn is also so interesting because WHY does the tsaritsa keep having connections with khaenri'ah in her military of all things. I have so many questions.

We do not know much about pulcinella at all but I do find it SO intruiging/interesting (can someone give me another word for this HELP) that he's close to childe. he visits childes family for him, iirc, which is suspicious when you read the commedia dell'arte lore.

I do think he's doing this for self gain to be honest. He's a manipulative person, so he could be manipulating childe into relaxing around him to the point of letting pulcinella get near his family, which could end really badly to be honest.

Next up is scaramouche. I feel like the scara stans themselves don't even understand his character that much, because they're too busy yelling at people about raiden/dottore instead of focusing on his character itself. I think he's a LOT more than mommy issues short boy and actually his character is really deep. His name in the commedia dell'arte is also Little Skirmisher (instead of balladeer, though I'm not too sure what that means) and what's most interesting to me about his commedia dell'arte connection is how (IIRC, this could be wrong but i found this out last time i was talking about the harbingers and the commedia dell'arte) scaramouche's "mask" was later removed, which him being removed from irminsul could be a nod to that.

What's also a neat nod to the commedia is how scara "influences the audience to do his bidding." I think in game they referenced this by him influencing/controlling that one woman in sumeru (i forget her name) to be his first follower and do as he says.

Okay so truthfully i don't have many thoughts on sandrone but something that makes me curious about her backstory is the fact that in the commedia she is known as "Peasant.” what else is neat with this is that she looks like that one girl from Fontaine (Mary-Ann) I don’t really know/remember the the lore of her but hm.

What’s even weirder abt the similarities is that Marionette (her title) means Little Mary IIRC? I don’t think she IS Mary Ann since she’s dead but she could have connections to her. Anyway I don’t have many thoughts on her ngl.. </3 genshin give us sandrone lore PLEASEEEE

Next up is my fucking WIFE ‼️‼️ (la signora)

everyone who hates her sucks lowkey she’s such an overlooked character like her lore is so fucking?? sad?? Everyone reduces her to “haha ashes” and it annoys me tbh. Her boss fight was a pain in the fucking ass though ROSALYNE WHY.. it took me 20+ tries

I genuinely love her backstory it makes me so sad honestly. Through her grief and rage she became feared and hated. Idk I wish people would talk about her a little more?? Because she’s so interesting?? She has ties to ancient mondstadt isn’t that sick.

something that interests me the most about her character is how they made her somewhat different from La Signora in commedia dell’arte? She’s continually described as a woman who often cheats on her husband in the commedia, but when you read genshin Signora’s backstory it’s interesting to see how it’s mostly focused around how her loss of her lover threw her into a grief induced rage (basically, it’s centered around her grief and love)

as for her similarities, these two images explain it well:

Honestly I wish we had got to explore her character more than the information we have now. Genshin is so evil for killing her off tbh.

Pantalone I know like NOTHING about. I think he’s a really neat character. A lot of people dumb him down to “evil baizhu” but I do think he has a lot of potential to be a really good character

Basically he’s a capitalist ‼️ kidding but for him, he seems so far to be REALLY similar to Pantalone in the Commedia. I dont have too many thoughts on him either because we don’t know much about him yet </3 pantalone lore when….

and you already know most of my thoughts on Childe so I will save the rant for another day because that would get me fired up (I am losing words this rant sucked the life out of me HELP)

oh wait another thing that is neat about the harbingers entirely is how the trailer for them was called a Winter Night’s Lazzo (I think) but that’s another reference to the commedia dell’arte :)