#so. Yeah that's fun and despite how much time has passed there still has yet to be a full English 100% walkthrough of the second game

[makerofmadness]

I had the idea to make this post last night while doing my trophy race spree but then I forgot but now I just remembered looking at my phone photos so-

[improbable-outset]

for an angst/whatever else Miguel fic

what about an inexperienced reader who has a shitty bf and he makes a cruel joke at her expense in front of people, including miguel, who's her boss and later or something miguel comments on it to her and it can either lead to smut or fluff, your choice 💓

Hi anon, thanks for the request. I might’ve gone a little carried away with this one heh…

📄 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐞

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.7k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Toxic relationship, Manipulative and controlling behaviour, humiliation, alcohol consumption, unresolved pinning 👀, fluff and comfort, intimate tension.

𝐀/𝐍: WE ARE SO BACK. While writing this, I’ve discovered that writing toxic characters is actually kinda fun and amusing, especially with dialogues

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: During a company dinner party, you find yourself humiliated by your current boyfriend. Seeking some escape, you confide with your boss, Miguel, whose support reveals some hidden emotions you’ve buried.

Your reflection stared back at you blankly as you fixed the strap of your dress for the umpteenth time. Despite the dress fitting you perfectly, you couldn’t stop yourself from anxiously adjusting it— even if there was nothing to fix.

Social events were always outside of your forte but you wanted to put yourself out there, especially given the fact that it was an event from your work.

You wanted to look your best for tonight and make yourself as presentable as you could, leaving a lasting impression outside of the work environment.

You quickly patted the beads of sweat that were forming from your forehead before touching up on your makeup.

“Are you ready?” A male voice called out from outside the room. Your chest clenched slightly, a sudden sense of urgency washing over you.

“Almost,” there wasn’t much for you to do now but you didn't want to leave the house just yet.

Not a moment passed before Adam stepped in the room. He had a tone build and wore a dress shirt with contrasting dark pants for the occasion. His hair was combed back and he was growing out a stubble that gave a charming feature to his look.

Adam’s held his gaze on your form, eyeing you and your outfit. You felt a tinge of self consciousness until you saw a small amused smile on his face.

“What?” You asked teasingly.

“Nothing,” he stated, his line of sight still sweeping over you. “You look phenomenal, as usual.”

The compliment made your chest warm. You met Adam through a mutual friend at work. Before you got together, you were typically more reserved and kept conversations with everyone to a minimum.

But Adam would always try to spark a conversation with you, even when you gave him one worded answer. He even tried to invite you to socials outside of work with your other co-workers in an attempt to get you to open up.

Though you knew it was only an excuse for him to get to know you and to get your attention, even if it was just disguised as a regular polite conversation. Eventually you caved in to him and a few friendly conversations later, he asked you out.

You took another look in the mirror. There was something missing in the look. You reached over to your vanity drawer and pulled out one of your favourite lipstick shades before putting it on.

Adam leaned over to see your reflection in the mirror and frowned. “Oh…are you wearing that shade of lipstick again?”

You turned to look at him. “Yeah. What’s wrong with it?”

“It doesn’t suit you,” he said simply, his tone casual but the words stinging like a slap. It was one of your favourite lipsticks, a shade you thought complimented you well. No one had ever said otherwise.

“Really? Everyone has said that it matches with my complexion,” you arched your brow in confusion to disguise how bothered you were.

“Well, I’m telling you that it doesn’t look good on you,” he further added. All the reassurances you felt from the compliment you received was replaced with a dull ache.

“I wore it on our first date and you said that you loved it.”

You remembered you were feeling nervous and thought you didn’t look good enough. But Adam reassured you that you look beautiful and that was enough to lift your mood throughout the entire date.

But after hearing his comment just now, you didn’t know what to feel anymore.

“I said I liked the outfit, not the lipstick specifically,” he corrected.

“Should I take it off then?” Reluctantly, you picked up a tissue from the box with trembling hands, ready to wipe it off your lips.

Adam didn’t reply, instead looking at his watch impatiently.

“Look, we need to leave now if we want to avoid the traffic. Meet me in the car in five minutes,” he instructed, completely dismissing your question before leaving the room abruptly, now driven by urgency.

Just to save yourself from hearing him point it out again, you wiped off the lipstick from your lips. However, before you left the room, you packed the lipstick in your purse. A small act of defiance.

As you made your way to the car, you saw Adam fumbling with the glove compartment from the passenger side. Whatever he was looking for, he managed to find it and keep it hidden from your view before you could open the passenger side door.

You stepped in and buckled yourself up before you closed the door behind you. Unintentionally, you closed it harder than you intended, causing Adam to jolt in response.

“Hey, hey easy with the door babe-” he reprimanded, his voice tinged with annoyance.

“What?”

“Are you trying to break the car?” He tried to lighten the mood with a small smirk but failed— his feeble lightheartedness faded like over washed denim.

“I didn’t slam it that hard.” You quipped back.

Adam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. You could tell that he didn’t want to dampen the mood and argue about this, especially now.

Defuse the spark before it gets ignited.

This wasn’t the first time you fought about something trivial. He left the argument hanging and pulled out a small box.

So this was what he was getting from the glove compartment…

“Here, I got this for you,” His voice switched like a flipping coin, as he opened the box to reveal a necklace. Your eyes widen, taking in the sight of the jewellery that glistened under the low lighting in the car.

The necklace was a silver chain with a pendant that matched with the dress you were wearing. He took the necklace out of the cushion packaging and gestured for you to come closer.

“Come here. Let me help you put it on,” he said. You leaned forward so he could reach the back of your neck.

His fingers grazed on your skin as he fastened the clasp, an act that felt almost too intimate given the recent tension. The coolness of the metal brushed against your neck.

“It’s beautiful. But what’s the occasion?” You asked, one of your hands reaching to touch the pendant. It sat on your neckline perfectly.

“Do I need a motive to give you a gift? I thought these things would be more spontaneous if they came from the heart,” he said as he put on the car's ignition. The engine hummed to life and Adam drove off the driveway with one hand on the wheel.

The car was bathed in his cologne smell. It wasn’t his usual signature scent that he used everyday. This has a spicy undertone to match the occasion, though you preferred his usual scent to this. The aroma seemed to cling into the air and linger long after he sprayed it. You didn’t want to admit that it was too strong for your liking.

You cruised through the streets smoothly and watched as you passed each building and property. Adam glanced over at you from the corner of his eyes, lingering for a moment before he spoke.“You know, I hope you can handle yourself tonight.”

His eyes went back on the road, leaving you perplexed from his comment. Did he think you needed babysitting?

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve noticed you’ve been keeping to yourself a lot lately.” He said, teetering with the edge of criticism before he continued. “Don’t you think you should be a bit more sociable at these events? It’s not a good look to be the quiet one in the corner,”

You frowned at that. You knew that navigating through small talks wasn’t your strongest suit but you didn’t need him to tell you how to act. It felt patronising.

“Are you seriously concerned about that? I always preferred to let my work speak for itself.”

“But this isn’t another day in the office, this is a dinner party,”

“I think I’ll be fine,”

“We’ll see,” There was an edge to his response that made your gut twist.

The car fell quiet between the two of you, with the only sound being the low hum of the engine and the occasional honks from passing cars.

Adam broke the silence again, desperate to kill the awkward tension that he had caused. “So, are you looking forward to the event at least?”

“Yeah, it should be interesting. I don’t think they’ve done anything like this before,”

“You’re right,” he said “It might be the new HR coordinator they hired. Seems like they’re trying to make a good first impression.”

Your destination was coming into view now. The venue where the event was taking place was not too far from the main facility building, making it convenient for the employees that were attending.

It was the company’s 25th anniversary so there were a lot of guests attending, which also meant the car park outside the venue was packed. Adam had to drive around the block— you didn’t miss the annoyed scowl on his face— before he found a decent spot to park.

After killing the engine you both stepped out of the car and made your way to the gate. The entrance was dotted with recessed floor lights, highlighting the pathway along with flowers that adorned the grass area.

You recognised a few of your colleagues from your department. It was refreshing seeing them outside of their work attire and in more festive wear.

Stepping inside, you were first introduced to the complimentary drinks before the main hall that was beautifully decorated. The sound of heels clicking and glass clinking bounced off the walls. The company really went far out to organise this, and you had to admit, you were impressed.

The tension from the car ride still lingered in your mind, but you were determined to make the best of the event, despite the rough start. The buzz in the room helped you forget about your unease.

As you padded further into the room, you spotted a few familiar faces from your department. Jess, one of your closest coworkers and best mentor you’ve had, caught your eye and approached you with a welcoming smile.

“Hey, glad you two could make it,” she greeted you.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Adam replied.

Jess leaned in for a hug, and you returned with air kisses on each cheek. She stepped back to admire your outfit. “You look incredible. That dress looks so good on you, girl.”

A sense of gratitude washed over you at that. “Thanks, Jess.”

“We’ve saved you a space on our table at the back,” she said before you all made a beeline through the throng of people.

As you made your way to your seats, you caught sight of Miguel, your boss, from the corner of your eye. You turned your attention over to him momentarily, while still following Adam and Jess towards the back.

His height and physique naturally drew attention. Or maybe it was the way he had presented himself tonight. You didn’t know what it was that made him seem more alluring.

His outfit wasn’t vastly different from what you would normally see at work. He wore a well-fitted blazer that accentuated his form.

It wasn’t tight enough to show off his bulging muscles overtly, but it wasn’t loose either. A balance of both, maintaining a modest look that still seemed to draw wondering eyes.

Adam pulled out a chair for you, an unexpected show of chivalry, before taking his own seat. You couldn’t help but pick up on his charms and how his mannerism was a stark contrast to his earlier demeanor back in the car.

You and Jess caught up and chatted for a while. You twisted your body so you could fully face her but as you did, your elbow accidentally knocked over a glass of water. If it weren’t for Adam’s quick reflexes and catching it before it tipped over, the water would’ve spilled all over you.

“Careful babe, that would’ve been a disaster,” Adam said with a hint of concern.

You still felt your nerves spiked from the small shock but it was quickly relieved when Adam placed the glass safely away from the edge. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see that glass there,”

He peered at you with an unreadable expression. You had an uncomfortable feeling that he was going to say something condescending but you couldn’t tell.

A sly smile played on his lips. “It’s alright, babe. Hey, do you remember when you spilled coffee all over the table during your interview?”

You felt like your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. That was a moment you would rather forget, especially in front of the people you work with every day.

You noticed a few of your colleagues at the dinner table glancing over at you. Their eyes felt like lasers, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at them.

“Did she really do that?” You heard one of them asked, you didn’t want to find out who.

You felt a hint of irritation that they didn’t address the question directly at you. It was as if you were invisible, a subject of gossip.

Adam let out a chuckle before he said, “Yeah, I’m surprised she even got the job after that. If it were me, I would’ve been too embarrassed to show my face again,”

You could feel multiple eyes on you as Adam recounted the story. This wasn’t something that you would like to share with anyone else, so you didn’t understand why Adam was telling everyone as if he were sharing an amusing anecdote. It felt like betrayal.

It had taken you a while for you to open up to Adam enough for you to share some embarrassing stories like that. Knowing that he was going to share them like an open book so casually felt like an icy grip around your throat.

Despite your silence and reluctance to look at everyone, Adam seemed oblivious to your discomfort. Either he was ignoring you, or was blinded by his bravado to even notice. Jess managed to see your change in demeanor and how quiet you were all of a sudden.

“Maybe we should talk about something else,” she suggested, placing a hand on your shoulder as a silent comfort. Everyone seemed to agree and the conversation steered away from the topic of you.

As the evening progressed, you managed to emerge out of your shell again from your previous embarrassment. You engaged in light conversations with your colleagues, though you found yourself listening more than talking.

Throughout the interactions, you didn’t notice a familiar pair of eyes that was observing you from afar and picking up on all of your body language silently.

The food served was exquisite and left everyone more than satisfied. Between courses, the CEO took the stage to give a speech, thanking everyone for their hard work and dedication throughout the years.

A loud round of applause erupted in the room, accompanied by smiles from everyone. You could feel the sense of unity and camaraderie in the room.

Dinner was followed by an open bar, which meant more mingling. There were more guests now after dinner than there were when you arrived, so the room felt more confined and bustling.

The mixture of alcohol and perfume smelled like an intoxicating fume. Adam effortlessly moved around from one group of people to another, his presence was booming with flamboyance wherever he went.

He was able to attract people’s interest with his bold body language and confident speech.

You, on the other hand, focused on the small group you were sitting with. You decided to stay at the table, enjoying the conversation and occasionally chiming in with your input.

As you were lost in the office gossip that everyone was exchanging, Adam approached your table with a drink in hand. He leaned in to kiss your cheek before he took a seat next to you.

You didn’t miss the looks that some of your female colleagues flashed at you both. You couldn’t tell if it was jealousy, but it definitely sent a prickly sensation through you. How charming…

“Enjoying yourself?” He asked, his tone casual and calmer now.

“Yeah, it’s nice catching up with everyone,” you shifted wearily in your seat.

Adam’s gaze locked onto you as you took another sip from your drink. His stare felt like poking needles and you could tell that he was going to say something.

“You might want to be careful there, babe. Remember the incident last time…”

“Adam please,”

“…you threw up on the sidewalk? You’re lucky no one else was around to see you,”

Your grip around the glass tightened and you wanted to plummet through the floor. You started to wonder if his bold personality and ability to entertain people in a conversation came at the expense of embarrassing others for some laughs.

Being the ass of the joke.

Did he feed off of the attention? Was that why he kept doing this? You noticed no one was laughing. Some gave you sympathetic looks, while others felt awkward.

Adam took this opportunity to add on to the story, his voice resounding with pride. “And I had to carry her home. I felt like a hero that day,”

You forced a smile to try and disguise your discomfort that flickered in your eyes. At this point you didn’t know how to respond or act. But the last thing you wanted was to cause a scene, especially over a comment.

You waited until the subject of the conversation changed again so you didn’t look suspicious before you rose from your seat.

“I’ll be back,” you said as you took a few steps away, excusing yourself from the group. “Just need to freshen up,”

You left the bar and made your way to the end of the room. There was the dreadful feeling that everyone in the room was staring at you as you swiftly manoeuvred past them. The desire to escape the room intensified with each step.

Finally, you reached the door to the patio and stepped outside. Thankfully, there were only a few people scattered around, making it easier to uncoil the tension that built up inside you.

You took a deep breath, filling your lungs with the fresh air — a relief from the stuffiness inside. Even with the different environment and open space, you still felt the modification catching up to you.

“Is he always like that?” A sudden, familiar rich voice pulled you out of your misery.

You turned to see Miguel standing a few steps behind you. “What?”

He looked striking now that you were up close to him, with the soft glow of the patio light highlighting his features.

His expression was serious when he said “Your boyfriend, Adam. Does he always treat you like that?”

You blinked, swallowing thickly before you spoke. “Oh…yeah. He just has a habit of making jokes like that. It’s just his humor,”

“Interesting sense of humour he has, making you the punchline every time,” he paused, his gaze drifting towards the clear night sky before returning to you. “I find it amusing that you’ve gotten used to being treated like that,”

“Well, he’s my boyfriend…I shouldn’t be—”

“You know, being someone’s boyfriend doesn’t give him the excuse to humiliate you. Why do you keep defending him like this?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know why you kept making excuses for him. Maybe it was easier to downplay the situation than confront reality. You didn’t want to make a big deal out of something that wasn’t that serious in the first place— or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“He’s not always like this. He’s supportive in other ways. But he does get carried away sometimes,”

“Supportive? Do you mean when he points out your mistakes in front of everyone?” He arched his brow, obviously skeptical.

His words shook you but you had to admit, you didn’t believe your own words, especially after tonight.

“I don’t want to seem too sensitive. I’ve been with him for so long. It’s hard to think about leaving him…”

“Don’t let history keep you in place. You shouldn’t lower your standards just because he’s your boyfriend,”

There was a pause that hung between the two of you. The chilling air was nipping at your bare arms now but you didn’t want to step back inside.

The muffled chaos that you could still hear was enough to make your brain melt. You turned to look at the door that led back inside the bar, a sickening feeling churned inside your stomach.

“I don’t want to go back in there yet,” you admitted.

“Then don’t.” He followed your line of sight before he looked back at you. “We can stay out here for as long as you need to,”

You didn’t speak again after that. Your mind seemed to drift to the facility building that wasn’t far from here. The thought of a quiet secluded space was becoming increasingly appealing now.

You noticed the flicker of curiosity that crossed Miguel’s face as you looked far ahead before realisation gradually dawned on him. He seemed to pick up on your gaze and spoke your mind for you.

“You know, my office isn’t far from here,” he commented, voice boarding a suggestive tone.

“Yeah…I know,”

“Why don’t we head there instead? We can stay there as long as you want without being interrupted,”

“I don’t know…” You knew you didn’t want to be here anymore, but you couldn’t just leave, especially unannounced.

“There’s no one there at this time, and it’s quieter than this place,”

The offer was tempting, but what would Adam say? “I can’t leave Adam here,”

“You still think you need to be with him?” He let out a dry chuckle, stepping closer towards you. “Let him fend for himself for a while. I could tell you weren’t having a good time in there,”

You thought about it for a moment. What was the harm in stepping out for a little while? Adam couldn’t say anything if he didn’t know, right? You did owe it to yourself after everything that had happened, after all.

“Alright,” you agreed. Before you knew it, you were walking towards the car park and stepped into Miguel’s car and on your way. It didn’t take long until you arrived outside the familiar surroundings of the establishment.

The slick glass exterior of the building stood out in the night. During the day, it would be bustling with people coming in and out through the revolving doors.

Now, it was quiet and not a sound could be heard. But even if the building wasn’t running its usual course, there were still some occupants inside with a few of the lights on.

As you made your way inside to Miguel’s office, there was a comfortable silence. Miguel’s presence felt like a calming anchor in the sea of your anxiety.

Once you made it outside his office, Miguel held the door for you to step in. “After you,”

Miguel flickered the lights on before closing the door with a click, sealing off the blaring noise of the outside world. “It’s quieter here. You can take a breath,”

His office gave a different aura at night compared to what you were used to in the day time. The windows that provided a stunning view of Nueva York twinkled with the city lights. You couldn’t help but stare out in awe.

You turned back to look at him and he handed you a water bottle. “Thank you, Miguel,”

The condensation of the water bottle felt cool against the pad of your fingers.

By now the alcohol was settling in your bloodstream, creating a gentle warmth that radiated in your chest. You felt like you were floating as you walked over to take a seat on one of the plush chairs.

You were starting to notice that the alcohol made you forget about Adam and his concerns about your whereabouts and what he might think or say.

You cracked open the bottle and took a small sip, the cold water tickling your throat.

“So, how have you been handling things lately?” Miguel asked, taking a seat on his usual office chair.

You were grateful the topic wasn’t centered around Adam anymore. You didn’t want to linger on the sting of his words and actions from earlier.

“Well, I’ve been working on that new project proposal so that has been consuming most of my time,”

“I’ve noticed your dedication and your work on the proposal has been impressive so far,” Miguel’s voice carried a note of genuine admiration.

“Thank you…it means a lot hearing that from you,” you replied. You felt a sudden tingling sensation coarse through you and you knew it had nothing to do with being under the influence.

It was a mystery to you but Miguel’s compliments seemed to resonate with you, making your heart quicken slightly. You didn’t feel this type of effect with Adam, not even at the start of your relationship.

Miguel gave a small nod, his eyes studying your keen interest. “I’ve noticed you prefer working alone rather than in a team. You seem more comfortable that way,”

You were taken back slightly by the subject change. Where was he going with this?

“I guess I do. Sometimes it’s easier to focus that way,”

“It’s important to have people who support you. Do you have someone like that?”

Despite trying your best not to think about it, the question pulled your mind back to Adam. After all, he was supposed to be your support system, the first person you go to. “I thought I did but I’m not so sure now,”

You didn’t know what you were expecting after tonight. Miguel seemed to pick up on who exactly you were thinking about.

“How do you really feel about you and Adam?” He asked.

You recalled the conversation before you left the house for the party, when you were still getting ready. You still remembered putting on the lipstick and how you thought you looked good before Adam’s remark.

That wasn’t the first time he had put you down like that when your confidence was at your high. Did he feel threatened by your self-assurance?

“Well, he’s always been charming but recently he’s been more…critical, especially in front of others. I don’t know where this change of character came from.”

As you spoke, you felt yourself unraveling all of your true inner thoughts about Adam now— one’s that you tried so hard to push away just to salvage your relationship.

Perhaps some liquid encouragement and having the right person to talk to was needed for you to loosen your tongue and finally admit all of this.

“Sometimes, people reveal their true colours under pressure,”

You pondered that. Maybe Adam was trying to fit in and had some unresolved issues. Whatever it was, that didn’t justify his actions and the way he treated you.

You bit your lip, feeling a surge of conflicted emotions. “It has been a lot to handle tonight. I never expected him to be so cruel. Part of me wants to stay and fix things, but at the same time….I want something more,”

You didn’t know why it took you this long to finally confess it but now that you did, the air left lighter.

“You deserve something more.” Miguel said softly. His words, though simple, charged with meaning and something more. Affection?

You were so lost in a trance when opening up your emotions, you haven’t realised the close proximity between the two of you. Close enough to capture the faint smell of his sweet musk.

It made you wonder if he was talking about something beyond your professional ambitions. Miguel leaned closer— either he was studying your expressions or memorising your features.

However the moment was cut short when your phone suddenly vibrated in your purse, shattering the fragility in the room and yanking you back to reality. Startled by the sudden noise, you fumbled in your purse to retrieve your phone.

You felt bile creeping up your throat when you saw Adam’s name on the notification. The text was short but jarring.

‘Where are you? We need to talk’

Shit…

Adam needs to get decked ‼️

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @cl3stevu @tarjapearce (GIRL I GOT INSPIRED BY YOUR TENTATEUR FIC OMLL) @lazyjellyfish300 @kavimoo @laysmt

@mybvalentine @boringpersonality @mun-2996 @leshasnolife @slut4oscarissac23

I was originally going to add smut to this but it didn’t feel right. Especially the position that reader is in here. If this does end well, I MIGHT do a part 2 where she finally ends things with Adam and smut

Ayrus xoxo

[it-came-from-an-orchard]

Wonderland! Bunnydoll

It's secret to nobody that @endomentendo Wonderland AU has been spreading the same way an invasive root does in a garden (Don't tell Queenie) What some might NOT know, is that the Bunnydollers have successfully bullied them with love and pretty art to make the ship part of their canon Heck, Ragatha's mood allignement change! I call that a major victory!

So to commemorate the change and because @kookies2000 has infected half of the burrow with the WonderBug, I present thee with a small little something.

Its not very good but I had fun. And I think that all Wonderland its about

Leaves fall, birds chirp.

Twigs snap, Branches shake.

The grass crumples, dirt and sand raises in the air. 

The sounds of idle laughter chimes in, carried by the hollow whistle of the wind. Empty steps mark the ground.

The sensible response is to shake your head, turn around, and go back from wherever you came from. 

The sensible and logical thought that pricks at the mind and tells you ‘There’s nobody there’. 

So stupid and wrong. 

Out of all the creatures in the forest to find, those that find you first are probably some of the worst, and by the very nature of their bodies, this one is the most dangerous of all, as they dont get found out if they don't wish to be. 

The laughter echoes around, and if you were to close your eyes— Well, you would be really stupid, because nobody should do that in a forest. Who knows where you could trip going around blind like that? 

But if despite better judgment, you still close your eyes, or at least, the one working eye, it's almost like if windchimes were all around the forest.

Such a pretty laugh.

How can people say Chesires are bad when they laugh like that? 

“Jax! I’m not supposed to wonder this deep in, you know that!” Little Pretty Red Locks and a smile, you are not angry or mad, yet you try “At least tell me what are we looking for!”

The empty, dusty steps wave off the dirt path, leaving purple prints instead as they go up the trunk of a mighty tree

“Seriously? I have to climb? In this dress?” Only mad people talk to themselves, so this really isn’t that weird of a sight, that is, if there was anyone else with Pretty Red Locks and a smile. “Mother is gonna be upset at me if I return to the party with tears on my dress…!” 

She could have chosen not to climb, stay down on the ground, but then the enchanting laughter knew she wouldn’t. Too many a year had passed, at least he thought so, since they first started to play this game. A Cat and a Mouse. 

Why would a little mouse be in pursuit of a cat, you ask? Probably to ask for some milk, or to share a cookie. 

But there is no cat or a mouse in sight, just Pretty Red Locks and a smile. 

Climbing trees is easy, it barely takes a breeze, yet the doll struggles getting around the branches, silly girl, your dress is on the way, Why did you ever think that was appropriate clothing to go tree climbing? Mad idea, indeed. 

Leaves fall, branches creak, and the laughter is no more. A low hum bouncing around the canopies of the trees. A nameless tune that has no lyrics, and even when it does, their meaning is meaningless. Still, Pretty Red Locks tries to sing it, no matter how many times she gets it wrong. What a crazy thing to try

“Are we there yet?” She huffs and puffs the lack of air in her lungs, settling in a big sturdy branch. Yeah, they were there. That’s as good as it could get “I know I’m not a kid anymore, but you could try and give me a hand still!”

“Now, why would I do that?” The voice of nobody speaks, much mirth and much mischief in the way they sound. Just like the laughter from before “You got yourself up here without my help! If you couldn’t, why try?” 

“You told me to follow you, then disappeared and got me here!” Still airless, still amused. Are you not afraid of being this high up? 

“If I disappeared, you got yourself here” Fight a disembodied voice about semantics, if you weren’t mad before, you will be after.

“Well, We’re here-- Or *I* am here now. So what's the surprise?” 

“What surprise?” 

“I’m not going to start that with you”

“Start what?” 

Laughter again, but it's not the voice of the nobody, Pretty Red Locks laughs. 

It’s a pretty laugh.

“The view is nice from up here” Again talking to herself, because there was no other voice to answer her “You always like to be somewhere high, don’t you?” Talking to oneself means nobody answers you, but Pretty Red Locks and a smile didn’t seem to be bothered by that, her lips splayed in a wide smile for the empty space right beside her on the branch “I guess it's part of your nature”

The hollow wind carries the small hum of a melody. Down below littles colorful dots dance around unhearable music. It wouldn’t be long now until they realized the missing person among them.

“Having fun on your regular birthday?” The voice of nobody spoke, though it was lacking a bit of that usual charm. Wonder where it had gone

“What other types of birthdays are there?” The doll only got silence as a response, right, she was answering a question with another question “Yes, it’s very fun. I’m glad you came by”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the end of the world~!” 

Swinging her legs over the void of the fall, the doll swallowed the rest of the questions she wanted to ask, her conversation partner wasn’t in a responsive mood and talking to herself wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, even if she did it more often than most

“I’m gonna give you your gift now” The disembodied voice spoke and the doll felt her insides tickle as if full of loose flower petals

“Does that mean I can see you n-” Ragatha wanted to say something dumb, because she was about to answer a statement with a question. A dumb and also rude thing to do

Thankfully, she was saved from the embarrassment by a pressure over her mouth. Her lips. It felt… Warm. slightly moist, a bit fuzzy. 

Such an odd feeling

Not only was her mouth covered by something, Ragatha blinked once and she was sure something was holding the sides of her arms. It was firm yet kind, the way she always felt when dancing atop the roof of the castle, or balancing over the railing of the balconies or now, over at the top of the trees. 

She pursed her lips and that pressure moved. Ragatha realized now that she couldn’t quite breath with this strange block against her mouth, but just before she could start to worry about running out of air, the pressure left her mouth. The one around her arms remained.

Blinking once, twice. Ragatha notices her eyesight worsening. Just a second ago she could see the party below with perfect clarity, now everything seems to be warped and fuzzy. Like trying to see through an empty glass.

Something invisible in between. 

“Jax?” She called to the nothing around her. “Did you do something just now?” 

Pretty Red Locks got no answer from the empty air around her. She blinked again, the fuzziness went away, and so did the hold around her. 

She missed it already. 

The familiar humming of a distant tune came back, and while the sound bounced around, Ragatha’s gaze stood firmly ahead. The emptiness in front of her slowly filling up from the bottom up, stripes of purple and dark blue hues swirling, tangling and knotting among themselves. Forming limbs, a torso, a tail, ears and finally. 

Two big yellow eyes and a smile. 

“Happy regular birthday, Ragatha” The voice of nobody came from the mouth of this funny looking guy, but Ragatha already knew that. She have known this funny looking man for a long time now

“Happy not-birthday, Jax” She returned the gesture, smiling, not as widely but almost so as the man floating over nothing in front of her. 

“Oh! You remembered! How thoughtful!” The colourful man squinted his eyes slightly as his smile broadened even more, making most of his face “Anyway, Ready to go back?” He extended an open, gloved palm to the pretty doll with red locks and a smile, he was, admittedly, a bit surprised that she didn’t immediately take it.

“Jax, My aunt will freak out if she sees me ‘Floating’ down back to the party!” “Not let anyone see you, got ya!” Jax reached out and claimed Ragatha by the arm to himself, pulling her with him into the nothing void. 

Most people would freak out, scream, cry. To be so carelessly thrown into no ground at all, especially at such a height. 

Ragatha just giggled, barely holding on to Jax as they took step after step, moving slowly, closer to the ground. 

“Aren’t ya afraid to fall?” Jax held got tighter to her and she let go even more, slightly annoying. She should be holding onto him as if her life depended on it. What, was she mad or something?

“Are you going to let me fall?” Pretty Red Locks and the gall you had, trusting your life to a cheshire. 

“Not unless it’s funny” 

They eventually made it back to the ground and Jax lost himself in a puff of color. But Ragatha knew him to be close by. Call it a ‘Womanly intuition’. She just had a gift for this sort of thing. 

In truth, watching the scenery from up high and float back down with Jax was something she was really used to, she could quite understand what about that was supposed to be her gift. 

That feeling she got around her lips though…

She hoped she could ask Jax about it the next time they got to meet for tea. 

She enjoyed it very much

If only a feeling such as that one had a name.

[hoedamn-eron]

baby, please - father's day

Santi celebrates his first Father's Day.

Warnings: Just SICKLY SWEET. Mentions of breastfeeding (but as I've always said, a fed baby is a happy baby, whether bottle or breast!). Small mention of body insecurity. Hints of a parent who has passed. Allusions to unsupportive parents (as mentioned in the original fic). Not even remotely proofread so there will be mistakes 😊😊 Word count: 2,800 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

I know this is over a week late, I apologise. A part of my Baby, Please universe; this can be read as a stand alone but all the history is in the series.

“So, I’ll come over on Sunday with the girls?” you ask him down the phone.

Santi frowns in confusion at your words. “Did we make plans?”

You go quiet, and Santi momentarily wonders if he’d forgotten something important. Was he supposed to have the girls for the day? Had he just fucked up? It – obviously – wouldn’t be the first time he’d done that with you, and he’d truly tried his hardest to never wrong you again. He could have the girls, it wasn’t a problem, he didn’t have any plans anyways –

“It’s Father’s Day, Santi,” you tell him gently. “Your first one.”

Oh.

He hadn’t celebrated Father’s Day in years, not since before his own father had passed away. And he never thought he’d celebrate it for himself. And the girls were barely five months old, was it…really worth doing anything until they were older?

“We don’t have to do anything, I was just assuming…” you say, taking his silence as a bad thing.

“No, sorry,” Santi says immediately, trying to calm your anxieties. “You just took me by surprise. I didn’t realise that it was Father’s Day.”

You chuckle softly on the other end of the line. “Well…I was thinking we could go to the beach. It’ll be the girls’ first time, and I thought we could spend it together.”

Santi is quiet. Too quiet, and for too long, because your unsure voice comes through. “Santi?”

“Sorry, sorry.” He swallows, running a hand down his face. This was going to be his first Father's Day; a milestone he never imagined he'd ever experience in his life. The reality of it all was almost overwhelming. He couldn’t believe how much his life had changed in just over a year, meeting you and having kids; the joy and responsibility of being a father to these two beautiful girls was immense. Santi couldn't shake the feeling that he was living in a dream, and the weight of it pressed on him, a mixture of awe and gratitude so intense it nearly brought tears to his eyes. “The beach sounds great. Really. I would love that.”

“Okay,” you say, and you sound relieved. “I'll bring a picnic, and…and the girls can play in the sand, and the ocean. I bought them some cute shorts the other day, they could wear them. It'll be fun, I promise.”

Santi feels his heart skip a beat at the way you try and reassure him that it’ll be fun, like he wouldn’t want to spend the day with you and the girls. Of course he would, he would drop everything if it meant he could see you and the kids. He smiles despite himself. He can almost picture it now: the bright sun, the endless stretch of sand, the sound of the waves, and his girls' faces as they experience the ocean for the first time. It's a perfect plan. A perfect day.

“So…should I pick you up, 10am?” you ask, that nervousness still in your voice. Santi can just picture you now, biting your lip as you wait for his answer.

“Yeah, see you Sunday.”

“Okay,” you breathe, and he can hear the smile in your voice. “See you then.”

You both hang up after saying your goodbyes, and Santi stands there for a moment, staring at his phone, still processing everything. His first Father's Day.

A year ago, Santi would have laughed if he was told he would be spending the day at the beach with the woman he knocked up on a first date, and his twin daughters. Yet here he was, planning his first Father’s Day together, marvelling at how life had taken such an unexpected turn for him, after the shit show that was their last mission with Lorea, and losing Tom. Santi couldn't help but feel some anxiety, which left a heavy and sick feeling in his stomach, but also excitement for what Sunday would bring, a figurative step forward in yours and his ‘unconventional’ journey.

“Think this is a good spot?” you ask, but you dump your bags down anyway before he could answer.

Santi gave a small laugh as he watched you arrange your set up for Isabela and Jasmine; some inflatable supports so they could sit up, some toys from home that were beach friendly, and some towels to sit on with extras in your bag (just in case, you never know!), and an umbrella to give the girls shade. You had contemplated bringing some buckets and spades but decided that they were too young for that just yet.

You looked cute when you came to pick him up, in some shorts and a flowy shirt. You’d been having a few insecurities about your body as of late, as there was just a little but extra of you that wasn’t there before, and you were unsure of wearing something a little less exposed. Santi had told you that you grew and birthed two – two! – children, your body was bound to go through some changes. And you continued to nurture those two – two! – children with your body, so your body was amazing. It warmed your heart (and your cheeks) to hear that from him, and you said no more on the matter.

The sky was so blue it looked painted. The beach is perfect – not too crowded, with soft, warm sand and gentle waves. The girls are dressed in loose t-shirts and shorts, matching sun hats on their heads. You had already lathered them in sunscreen before leaving your house, but you were already preparing to add more on them as Santi popped them in their inflatable supports. Santi laughed as the girls kicked their legs in the sand, their eyes wide as they took in the feel of it on their legs and feet.

After placing more sunscreen on the girls, you sat back and relaxed, smiling at Santi. “This is nice.”

Santi nodded, looking around as he takes a seat with the twins, quickly stopping Isabela from eating a handful of sand. “I don’t remember the last time I went to the beach and just relaxed.”

You gave a breathy laugh. “As relaxed as you can be with two five-month-olds.”

Santi gives a shrug with a small laugh before he stops Isabela eating the sand again. He takes his shirt off, tossing it over with the rest of your stuff, and you try hard not to stare at him. He wasn’t as active as he used to be, but still kept in shape and had a nice little chub that suited him well.

After applying sunscreen to yourself (and making Santi put some on too, which he does – with an eye roll), you change the girls into some swim diapers and swim onesies. Santi carries them both to the ocean with you, one girl in each arm, and you take as many photos as you can before sending them to your friends and Santi’s. You beam so much your cheeks start to hurt (it puts the meltdown over your own father you had that morning to the back of your mind).

Santi steps into the ocean, just up to his knees. You take Jasmine from him, and the two of you crouch to give your girls their first experience of the sea. The first touch of the cool ocean on their feet makes them pause for a moment, and after a moment, Isabela starts crying. Jasmine looked over at the noise, almost startled, before she splashed a little in the water, giggling. Santi brought Isabela back out, soothing her a little until her tears subsided, before trying again. He laughed when she started screaming again, her legs lifting before hitting the water.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” said Santi, lifting her back up. “You don’t like it. I won’t do it again.”

“I’ll take her if you want,” you say, straightening up with Jasmine.

You swap babies, Isabela calming in your arms, unshed tears on her waterline as she watches Jasmine and Santi play in the ocean.

“See, it’s not so scary,” you coo to her, but she merely clings to you as she watches. You take some selfies before getting some photos of Santi and Jasmine. She kicks her legs, splashing water everywhere, and you and Santi both laugh, caught up in her pure, unfiltered joy.

For a moment, everything else fades away. It’s just you, Santi, and your daughters, the sun warming your skin and the waves gently lapping at your feet. Santi feels a swell of emotion, a deep, steadfast love for his new family that nearly overwhelms him.

“She loves it,” you say with a laugh, your voice filled with happiness as you lightly bounce Isabela and look at Jasmine. “Look at her!”

“I know,” Santi replies, his voice thick with the sudden emotions. “I know.”

You try again with Isabela, dipping her toes in the water. She seemed happier with that, and she kicked her legs a little before you submerge her feet in the water. Her matching giggles with Jasmine fill the space around you.

The day passes in a blur of laughter and play. You both take turns holding the girls as they splash in the water, then retreat back to your towels where you sit with your daughters. You nurse them for a moment and Santi offers to get some ice cream for you both from the hut down the beach. You nod, and the girls soon nod off in your arms. You lay them on the towels in the shade. They look like little angels, their sunhats crooked on their heads as they sleep.

Santi comes back, handing you an ice cream before he sits back down with you. You eat together silently, and Santi watches Isabela and Jasmine. His heart feels full. He glances at you, catching you watching him with a soft smile.

“You’re a good dad, Santi,” you say quietly.

“Thank you,” he replies, his voice barely a whisper as his cheeks warm. “That means a lot.”

Santi turns back to the girls again with a sense of awe, his heart swelling with pride. “I still can’t believe they’re ours,” he murmurs, his voice melting into a chuckle at the end.

“Me neither,” you admit, quickly licking at the dripping ice cream. “But I’m glad they are.”

The girls sleep for another hour, and you watch over them as Santi goes for a dip in the ocean. He offers to swap ‘shifts’ with you, but you’ve never been fond of the ocean, and you’re happy to keep an eye on the girls as they nap. And you don’t admit it, but you get to ogle Santi as he comes out of the ocean, golden skin glistening from the water and the sun…you noticed you weren’t the only one admiring him, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly smug when the other women – and some men – on the beach send jealous looks over to you when he joins you.

The morning turns into afternoon, and Jasmine wakes from her nap, where Santi offers to change her as you set out the picnic between you both. Jasmine babbles away as Santi places her back in her support, and you hand her a few toys in reach to keep her entertained as you eat. You’d brought Santi’s favourite sandwiches and some fruits, and his favourite cake from that bakery you frequently go to when you go on one of your walks together (“It’s Father’s Day, why wouldn’t I bring your favourite foods?”).

There was that warm feeling again. This was Santi’s first Father's Day. Every giggle, every tiny hand grasping his finger, every sleepy sigh as they drifted off to sleep, it all felt so surreal. Santi couldn't shake the feeling that he was living in a dream, one where he was finally building the family he had longed for, and the weight of it pressed on him, a mixture of awe and gratitude. He doesn’t know how you always know how he feels, but as you reach other to give his hand a squeeze, he doesn’t hesitate to squeeze right back.

Isabela wakes up soon after you both finish eating, and you change her, and reapply sunscreen to everyone (“You too, dada!”) before you and Santi take them in the water again. Isabela, again, has a little fright before she embraces the water, and she lets you take her in deeper. Soon, Santi is holding both girls in his arms, the water up to his chest as he holds them both in the water, cheering that both of them have taken to it so well.

“Wait, wait, let me get a photo!” you call before you get as close as you’re comfortable with, getting a photo of Santi smiling widely, sunglasses on his face. You take as many as you can, even some where he’s just cooing to them both.

The day passes in a blur of baby giggles, diaper changes, and feedings. Santi marvels at how much the girls have grown, their personalities starting to shine through even at such a young age. He can already tell that Isabela is more adventurous, always wriggling and reaching for things, while Jasmine is quieter, content to snuggle in his arms. His finds his mind drifting back to memories of his own father, the way they all used to spend the day fishing or grilling in the backyard, and the way his mother used to try and take over the cooking, but his father always used to tell her it was his day and he will cook the meat however he damn well pleases (but eventually, his mother would always end up by the grill with his father, her arms around his waist as he followed her instructions). He smiles at the thought of making new traditions with his Isabela and Jasmine, even if they were too young to remember them now.

Santi would like to think his parents would be proud of him, and of the girls.

The sun lowers, and there’s a slight chill coming in from the breeze and you both call it a day. You feed the girls one last time before packing up, and hauling everything back to the car, where you strap them into their car seats, giving them toys to play with. You close the trunk of the car, before turning to Santi.

“So,” you say, crossing your arms and leaning against the car. “How was your first Father’s Day?”

Santi gives you that crooked smile that always makes your knees weak. But you’ll never tell him that. “I admit, it scared me a little. But…it was a good day. A perfect day, actually.”

You smile, proud of yourself, and of him. “Good. I’m glad.”

Sanit offers to drive you home, and you take the opportunity. The drive back is quiet, and the girls fast asleep in the backseats, their faces peaceful. The sun and the excitement of the day wearing them out more than usual. You doze in the passenger seat, and Santi sends over a fond smile as he pulls up outside his house. He gently shakes you away.

“Hey…” he mutters. “We’re home.”

You blink up at him and yawn before stretching. You sit up and unbuckle your belt. “Thanks for driving home.”

“No problem.” He smiles at you before you both go quiet, just taking each other in. After a moment, he says, “Thanks for today. It was…perfect.”

“It was,” you agree, smiling at his sincere tone. “We should do it again sometime, not just for Father’s Day.”

“I’d like that,” Santi replies, a warmth spreading through him at the thought. “We could invite Fish and Sarah, and they could bring Sofía.”

You nod. “That would be nice.”

After you swap places in the car, and Santi gives his daughters a kiss goodbye, giving them soft smiles as they stir awake, he comes to the driver’s window. “So I’ll have them Tuesday and Wednesday, right?”

You nod. “Yeah. Oh! Actually, can you have them Saturday evening, too. I uh…I have plans.”

He pauses for a moment and ignores the sudden tightness in his chest before he smirked at the warmth of your cheeks. “What plans?”

“None of your business,” you say with a teasing grin as you roll your eyes.

“You got a date?” Santi teases back.

“Maybe…I’ll let you know,” you say. There’s a small quiet moment between you both before you clear your throat. “So…see you on Tuesday? I’ll text you.”

“See you on Tuesday,” he says, and you give him a goodbye as you pull away. Santi watches as you drive away, a sense of contentment settling over him. His first Father’s Day. It had been more than he ever could have hoped for.

Tagged - @khonsulockley, @superficialfeelings, @othersideoftheparadise, @beezusvreeland, @itsmytimetoodream

[rillils]

how do explain stucky from the moment they met to where they are now (together in each others arms) to my friend who knows nothing about marvel

ohh this is a tough one, honey! i think i've got two options for you:

the short answer:

stucky is a compendium of all the best tropes out there, and i'm sure i'm gonna miss a few:

soulmates? check! star-crossed lovers? check! battle husbands? super check! mutual pining? check! 'and they were roommates'? check! best friends to lovers? check check check! long-lost lover comes back from the dead? fuck yeah, check! temporary amnesia? check! dude in distress trope? check! 'they will always find each other and choose each other in every lifetime'? also check! identity porn? extra check! saved by the power of love? you guessed it: check! slow burn or childhood sweethearts? you decide!!! did they share their first kiss when steve was 16, as per a popular fanon theory? did they only confess their feelings during the war? did they only get together much later, when bucky was healing in wakanda? you can pick literally ANY point in their timeline, and it will still make sense! they're all equally valid! you can even have multiple different headcanons at once, i mean who's gonna stop you??? all you have to do is join in the fun! 💕

the long AF answer, aka:

STEVE & BUCKY'S LOVE STORY, UNABRIDGED SOMEWHAT ABRIDGED, part 1/3

all right, let's set the scene:

imagine two young kids, let's call them steve and bucky. they meet, they immediately take to each other, they become instant besties! and as they grow up together, facing many hardships, their bond deepens. not only are they best friends; they are also each other's family. they take care of each other, and they both know they can always rely on one another in times of need.

when steve's mom (and only remaining relative) passes away, bucky reminds him that he's not as alone in this world as he thinks he is: bucky will always be by his side. bucky will always love him unconditionally, will always be there for him, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, and he wants steve to know that.

in fact, he asks steve to move in with him, thus offering steve both a literal and a metaphorical home.

and steve says yes!

SO. they are each other's home, they're living together, they're getting by all right. but then war breaks out, and eventually it reaches their little home as well: bucky is drafted, and steve, due to his many health issues, and despite his best intentions, can't follow the boy he loves onto the battlefield.

it's a very difficult time for them both - so much so that they can't even bring themselves to talk about it.

they have no choice but to say goodbye for now, knowing that they might never see each other again. but here's something you might not know yet about steve: he's the most reckless, most stubborn fucker america's ever seen. he's not gonna let this stop him!!! instead, he goes and gets a very sweet, kindly scientist to fucking experiment on him, because screw it, he's going to fight in this war if it's the last thing he does. and that's how he goes from Smol Steeb to Lorge Premium Steeb.

of course, things don't go exactly as he predicted, and steve is made to be the star of a war propaganda-fuelled musical kinda thingie, which he resents (but he looks fucking precious in his costume)

BUT! he does get closer to the actual battlefield. which is where he discovers that bucky has been captured by the enemy (!!!!!!!) and is most likely dead by now. but steve isn't willing to give up so easily! he'll believe bucky's dead when he sees it with his own eyes. so, he embarks on this suicide solo mission in the attempt to get bucky back, even if it means wandering on his own. into enemy territory. where he would be shot. on. sight. with no protection for his dumb ass except for a bunch of theater props!!! but such is the power of love, y'all.

against all odds, steve finds bucky very much still alive! and as soon as bucky recognizes him, even as confused as he is, he pulls out this beautiful, ecstatic, angelic-ass smile, like he's just seen god or he got high on some real good edibles or maybe both idk, like my man here was having a serious Religious Experience™ you guys

and i just wanna say, they could have totally kissed here and it would have made plenty of sense. but that's true of like 90% of their scenes in this franchise, so *shrugs*

ANYWAY steve takes bucky in his arms (well technically yes he does) and brings him to safety, and on their way there, bucky proves once more just how hard he meant that "with you til the end of the line" from before

afterwards, steve is finally given the chance to fight, just like he wanted.

bucky, on the other hand, could very well leave the war behind and go home; but when he learns that steve is staying, he chooses to stay too, and fight by his side. and he tells steve so in this very intimate, softspoken, delightfully suggestive conversation, which can be summed up like this:

and so they walk right back into the heart of the fight, only this time together, as they were always meant to be!

but. during an especially tricky mission, they're surprised by the enemy, and as a result, bucky falls to his death into a deep ravine.

steve is devastated. overwhelmed with guilt, grief and rage, he vows to bring down the people responsible for his loss, even if it costs him his own life.

and um, it kind of does? cost him his own life?

victorious after his last vis-a-vis with The Antagonist™, steve still chooses to sacrifice himself to prevent the catastrophe set into motion by the aforementioned Antagonist™. he's flying a jet over the frosty expanse of the atlantic, and you know, from the outside, you could easily argue that he could try to save himself. if he really wanted to. but with bucky dead, and the people responsible for all this pain, either dead or captured, it seems like all the will to fight is gone from steve; and so he plunges the jet straight into the ocean, and himself with it.

is this the end of their story?, you might ask.

the answer is: of course not!!!! the best is yet to come, babes!!!

EDIT: here is part 2

[joonebugg]

hi joone! i was just curious.. you have such good opinions and you love my headcanons so much, do you have any dreamtale twins headcanons? (or any in general you want to talk about! /gen ^^)

I absolutely have a few headcanons about them! As siblings but also separately

Dream and Nightmare used to color in the books they were gifted. And Nightmare to this day has every single one

Dream always gave Nightmare any extra food she was gifted, the twins relied on the village for everything and I mean EVERYTHING, food, clothes, shelter, etc. And obviously because of how unpopular Nightmare was he didn't get a lot, so Dream always gave him her food; even after their falling out she still gave Nightmare food bc deep down she still cares about her brother, and she wants what's best for him <3

Dream and Nightmare's native language is spanish! Nightmare learned English because of books while Dream learned English because of Cross (ik they have a different dialect however they overall understood eachother)

Dream and Nightmare were named by the other two guardians! However if they were named by Nim their names would be Faith (Dream) and Hope (Nightmare)

Nightmare also (despite the mistreatment he makes his gang face) feels very safe with them and honestly cares about them (in a very fucked up possessive way) he'd in fact never change the trio he ended up taking in

Nightmare also feels guilty for what he does, it eats at him every day, he tries desperately to justify his actions but in the back of his mind he's all like "holy crap maybe I am possesed and a demon and an evil person maybe everyone was right about me". Not that his guilt justifies his actions bc what he does is fucked up, and deep down he doesn't have a tone of sympathy for the people he hurts just yet, Nightmare is selfish and at the end of the day causing emotional pain in others benefits him and only him

Dream and Nightmare are both autistic :3

After a certain amount of time has passed Dream and Nightmare reconcile, and it takes a very long time. By then everyone in their teams are dead. But I think eventually they reconcile, and they start bonding again

Dream and Nightmare age very slowly, since in my su Nim is a nymph they age slower than humans and most monsters, this is why they lived so long! The twins mentally and physically age 1 year every 11 human years

Nightmare presents feminine because it was a part of his daily routine back in Dreamtale! Nightmare hates making changes and was honestly happy with how he looked when putting makeup on, he also loves confusing people with the way he presents VS the way he identif

Nightmare eventually teaches Dream how to do her makeup, Dream had a difficult time learning and just gave up after a bit and hired people to do it for her, after reconciliation though Nightmare gladly taught Dream how to do makeup

Dream looooves graphic liner, she really really likes having fun makeup looks

But yeah! Those are what I can think of so far. Tysm for this ask moot! Love you <3 /p

[ambrosiagourmet]

I notice no one has asked yet so for the character thing: laios! Or if you want to go for a less common one: the winged lion

Laios!!!!!!

First impression

Honestly its hard to even limit this within the confines of starting the actual manga. I genuinely think I'd have to say my real first impression of Laios was the "autism be damned, my boy can work a grill" joke that gets passed around a lot 😭

Impression now

Older brother.

Loves his friends and family so much. Let him infodump!!!!! A guy that can character arc so hard he becomes a king because its the only way to deal with the things he can no longer let himself look away from. A guy who wants to eat a good meal. A guy who wants everyone to eat a good meal.

A guy who can be all that and still kind of pettily complain that he doesn't get to hang out with monsters anymore & can mope about it soooo annoyingly. A guy who decided to eat the concept of all-consuming hunger because it was the only way to deal with the problem so he might as well try. A guy who can completely change his life by deciding to share his special interest. A guy who can imitate a dog really well.

Favorite moment

Don't make me choooose... okay I'm gonna do three:

1. Assembling Falin's bones with Marcille

The humor. The patience. The slow realization that, despite how absurd of a task it is, it is actually all possible. The moments of admiration for the way skeletons work, the love of the details, the care of assembling all three skeletons just to make sure they get Falin right. Iconic scene.

2. Killing Falin

"Unable to make myself accept. Unable to make myself resist" lives in my soul now idk what else to say. Life is so vibrant and horrifying and raw and beautiful and to let yourself fully be a part of it you must take up space. You must consume. You must fight. You must take and be taken from. Ourgh

3. Talking Marcille down

I love that he looks so goofy on his way up to her. I love the context of how much he refuses to give up on her leading up to this, and how he refuses to give up on her now. I love how everyone is part of this scene, but he's the first one to cross the threshold. I love how she almost blows him up but can't do it (fun fact: this exact situation/post was how she killed Mithrun a couple of chapters ago. It was close).

I love the way he appeals to her mostly just with messy honesty, and I love the silly three rules callback. It's such a sweet chapter.

Also honorary mention for the final page of the story, which gets me every time.

Idea for a story

I'm actually currently fiddling with a longer story concept dealing with the question of Laios needing an heir. Dungeon Meshi is grounded enough in politics that it genuinely feels like a question that the characters will have to grapple with at some point. At the same time, there's no way that like arranged marriage and even having kids in general are not messy topics for Laios and I don't think anyone involved would want to force him to be miserable.

(I also don't personally like the idea of Falin as his heir ftr, bc I think forcing Falin into that role sucks and I don't think anyone would go for it)

So how DO they deal with the issue? Idk! I might write a long meandering story about it! Maybe! I want to, at least.

Unpopular opinion

Ughhhh I don't realllly want to poke this with a stick but yeah I definitely think my most generic (apparently????) Unpopular Opinion with Laios is just that his relationship with Marcille is meaningful and loving. I personally don't view it as romantic and they mean a lot to me as a platonic-life-partners kind of thing, but I also think that dividing relationships in general into Ships TM and Definitely Not Ships isn't really appealing to me personally. I just care them.

(at the same time I really do worry about trying to write about them and it being taken as romantic despite me very intentionally not framing it as such. idk, navigating this stuff is complicated.)

Favorite relationship

UGHHHH LIKE. It is probably him and Marcille. But it's so hard to rank that against him and Falin. Both relationships mean a lot to me and I love them and I love to think about them.

Because him and Marcille have more on the page interactions to dig into and because I don't see them discussed as much, I do tend to gravitate to Marcille & Laios stuff above all else. But like.... don't make me actually commit to picking.

Favorite headcanon

I can't think of a strong answer for this so I'm going to make one up on the spot: I think he giggled to himself soooo much when he included the winged lion in his king outfit but made it so that it looks like the wolf head is eating it. I think he continues to giggle about it years later. I think he gets dressed in the morning and puts on his cloak and goes "get ate, idiot" as he fastens it around his shoulders.

Oh actually for a more genuine headcanon related to the story thing I mentioned above: I think Laios is really good with kids but would be scared of having any of his own. I think he'd have trouble with the classic "I don't want to mess them up the way my dad messed me up" abused kid struggle.

[adventuringblind]

Mend Me

Lando Norris X Reader

Genre: Magical Realism via Superpowers (kind of), A mix of fluff and angst

Summary: After a long history of being running and hiding, she finds someone who isn't afraid of her. Enough to risk it all for him. Feat Oscar and Carlos being a chaotic duo for once.

Warnings: A tad dehumanizing (if you really squint), mentions of hospitals, mentions of blood/wounds/weapons/bruises, reader literally bring someone back to life,

Notes: This is incredibly experimental. I like these kinds of AU's that incorporate racing still. It's fun to see different concepts come to life in a normal world! I'm currently working on a few A/B/O fics and a few other experimental things :)

Side Note: and another request! I had so much fun writing these two and this story in general! I'm hoping to write more like this, or for these two specifically, in the future!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

This is not the life she envisioned for herself. The running, hiding, forging papers to try and keep herself safe.

Stupid unnatural abilities that she never asked for. A danger rating that started at three and moved up steadily as these abilities expanded. Classified within a unique group that tends to be more isolated due to their nature.

A healer is what her new papers say, a danger rating of five. Her armband required across the globe remains the same color. Unassuming and weak, which is how she needs to be perceived.

Powers, abilities, magic, auras, whatever you want to call them, manifest in different ways. Some are element based, some a material, some deal with things like the mind and soul. Smaller groups include shapeshifters, psychics and mediums, shadow work, and her own group.

Those who deal in life and death are not to be messed with. The healers and the reapers. Which, you would think wouldn't be dangerous. She was lucky enough to not be sentenced to a life in captivity. The reapers can decide who dies when, if they are strong enough. Usually prompted by the healers if they person is out of reach. It's a peaceful passing. Yet that doesn't stop people from fearing that kind of power and control.

No, she's a healer. Lower levels are kept as doctors and nurses. Knitting wounds together, feeling the pain of others, being able to x-ray a body without a machine, are all useful.

Raising people from the dead? yeah, that tends to freak people out.

Her wound transference started small. A scraped knee on a friend became her own, but without a mere itch. Soon it progressed into deep lacerations which bled less on her and healed faster. Then it was bigger injuries like broken bones and concussions.

Training was required for anyone with abilities. In order to see where they fall in rating, where they can be utilized, and make sure they have control over the chaos.

She spent ample time in the local hospital with the other healers. The paramedics had rushed inside. The body nearing death. They flatlined, mangled in different ways, yet she still managed at the age of sixteen to bring them back.

The amount of pain she was in was nearly unbearable. She'd almost killed herself in the process.

Her rating shot up to seven after that and she was whisked away to a facility for people like her. They moved her up to nine after another year. She'd managed to bring back someone who'd been dead at least a day.

She's a necromancer.

Whatever she is, they all knew they couldn't stay in that place. Inevitably escaping with their combined powers. She'd never run so fast. She was provided new classification papers and sent off to a different country.

Which is how she found herself here. Traveling and healing despite the prior adversity. She likes this job, specifically because she's strong enough to manage drivers and personnel in the paddock who hurt themselves with their own abilities, but not enough to look conspicuous. Which is a fine line she's toeing, but she makes it work.

She has regulars. Max Verstappen frequently asks her to come around. Metal tends to slice him when he's not grounded and specifically more agitated. Lando has a tendency to hit himself in the head with things when he's excited and the telekinesis decides he needs something right that second. Carlos shapeshifts into a bear, which comes with its own set of problems (she didn't know she'd have to be a vet, also). Then there is Alex, who always seems to be summoning feral street animals.

The year she started; she was nineteen. Lando and Carlos were teammates then. The Brit a in his sophomore year of the sport. The number of bruises on both drivers was ridiculous due to Lando randomly pushing and pulling random objects was ridiculous. Carlos even joked he might have been doing it on purpose at the time.

It was 2021, and the encouragement of Daniel, that got him to ask her out. An invitation she accepted. It was nice, but there was that lingering fear in the back of her mind that he would figure her out and turn her in.

A night out in 2022 is what changed everything for her. The ability to trust and a longing for connection driving her to spend the night with him.

Now, her suppressor band is strong enough that she's only supposed to wear it for twenty-four hours maximum. She'd put it on when she woke up the morning prior and hadn't taken it off sense. Lando had asked if she wanted to take it off, let their energies meld together. A privilege only people like them have. But she'd declined and he hadn't pushed.

She slept in. The best sleep she'd had in a while, mind you. Yet the pain firing through every nerve of her body had her crying. She hadn't cried in pain in so long. This was entirely new to her, and if she's honest with herself, terrifying to experience.

~~~~~

Lando stirs beside her. His hands cup her face and eyes scan her body as he attempts to understand what's wrong. She's unresponsive and he panics. Enough to call Carlos and ask if it's something to do with her classification of power. She could've overdone it, or it's the residue of a different injury she took on herself. Whatever the case, he needs help.

"Lando, mate, she's a five right?"

"Yeah? why?"

"Suppressor bands for five and up tend to be stronger than four and below."

Lando pauses for a second. "Aren't you a seven?"

"And I take mine off in intervals." Carlos' explanation makes sense. Enough for Lando to calm himself and locate the chain on her wrist. "Just take it off and see if it helps. It might not be immediate though so give it about ten minutes and then call me back."

"Thank you, Carlos."

"Not sure what we'd do without her. Maybe kill ourselves? So, you better keep her alive, mate!"

Lando ends the call. Her body seizing in his arms in a scary kind of way that makes him want to vomit.

The chain doesn't come off easily. The second he manages to unclasp it; she becomes deadweight in his arms. But he doesn't get the kind of relief he is hoping for from it.

The aura she has around her is strong and intense. The kind he's never felt before. It's not nauseating like when Carlos or Max is high on emotion, this is serene. Like he's never felt better in his entire life. Which is strange, considering how strong it is...

He calls Carlos back. This cannot be normal for a five. The fact he has it off, but she's sweating and gripping his hand like she's in turmoil makes him wonder.

"Did it work?"

"Uh - possibly?"

There is a brief pause. "What does that even mean?"

"Okay, so, energy of a five healer, is it supposed to be this intense? Cause I feel like I'm on cloud nine and she's still in pain." He wishes he could reverse it, just get her to settle and not look like she might die until he can help her.

"I'm coming over."

It takes Carlos too long to get to his room. His anxiety is getting worse by the second. She's finally exhausted herself enough to fall asleep, but her energy is still permeating the room in a way he can't describe.

Carlos nearly falls over when he steps inside the door. "You like this?!"

"I feel fantastic!"

"Well good, we know you have a soulbond now. We'll talk more about that later. I'm going to pass out if she doesn't have a suppressor on."

Lando whines, but he knows Carlos won't last like this. He just hopes something reset and bought them time to figure it out. He puts the chain back on her wrist and Carlos immediately looks better.

"Verdict?"

"She's not a five, that's for sure." He inspects the chain and her arm band. Carlos' own brown band is still around his bicep. The shapeshifter colors. Lando's is yellow for the energy category, Max's is red for the secondary elements, and Alex's is brown with a green stripe in the middle for the animal handlers. Her band is white with a black ring in the middle, the reapers are the opposite. The number attached to her band is a five. It's the same as a legal document.

Lando snatches the band off of where it lays next to his own. Sure enough, when he flips is around, A different number is crudely patched over enough that nobody could make it out unless staring for an obscene amount of time.

Lando hands the flipped band to Carlos. "She's a fucking ten."

Carlos hums and examines the elastic in his hands. He then fishes a suppressor ring out of his pocket and switches hers for the one he brought. The energy is still there, but the Spainard doesn't look like he's going to be sick anymore. Lando claims this as a win.

On the other hand, he can't fathom why she didn't trust him enough to tell him. "I don't understand-" The crack in his voice is embarrassing.

Carlos gets him to sit down next to him on the edge of the bed. He places Lando's hand on her shin and they watch the tension she was holding in her body disappear.

"Have you ever seen how the treat anyone six and above?"

"No... you never talk about it."

Carlos sighs. It's a pained one; eyes distant as he recalls memories. "Fives toe the line of being stronger than the people deem safe. These universal numbers used to classify us aren't just for the amount of energy we exert, it's what we can do as well. I shapeshift into a bear, which can be destructive, but I can also do it with fewer breaks and for longer stints."

"What does that have to do with any of this?" Frustration now evident.

"Relax, I'm getting there." Carlos gives him a pointed look and quiets himself. "Six and above tend to have more restrictions. They want to make sure we can't cause any chaos or start wars or something. Reapers are immediately labeled as tens. Healers start small but increase depending. I met a good few back in school that ended up being taken away for some unknown reason."

"So, she's a ten, meaning she can do what?"

"I'm not sure... but she is definitely at risk if anyone were to find out."

Carlos stays with him. Explains to him what is probably happening due to the extreme suppression of this kind of energy. He explains this soulbond thing. How their energies mesh well together which is what was giving him that euphoric feeling earlier. It's not rare, Lando is only a three himself, but for her it is because of the intensity.

It's around midnight when she wakes up, panting and drenched in sweat. Whatever these higher energies are, the seem to communicate for them. Carlos gets next to her and switches the suppressors again. He's giving her the familiarity in a stressful situation with no words.

"Fuck - Lan, I'm so sorry!" Her voice is hoarse and cracked. He wants to tell her that he's fine, that he understands, but words aren't there. Not when she looks this sick.

He opts for the physical contact route instead. The gentle kind, so he doesn't scare her. This hug feels different than any he's had before, but he assumes it's because his aura is actively seeking hers. "We have a soulbond. Our energies mesh together quite nicely."

"So, you know now? You're not going to turn me in?"

"Absolutely not! Carlos has been giving me a crash course and everything. I'm sorry that you are treated so horribly..."

She grips onto his shirt and sobs harder than she has in her entire life. It's broken, and Lando can't help but wonder when the last time somebody cared for her and her abilities alike is. "I'm not leaving you, okay? I might be a three, but I'll do my best to keep you safe." And he means it. He has every intention of keeping her out of the clutches of those who would see her locked away.

~~~~~

Lando convinces her to quite working under the FIA and let him take care of her instead. She still attends to the drivers since she can, because she wants to.

It's never a surpise when she receives a phone call from across the paddock asking for her assistance. It's more fun this way, not having the constant pressure of people watching her for any semblance of too much power.

Carlos keeps a close eye on her when she looks on the verge of overexerting her power or suppressing for too long. He had her and Lando set alarms for when to take it off and put it on again.

2023 comes around, and both her and Lando are more relaxed this year. Car wide, the Brit would rather die, but otherwise, he's fine.

Oscar is a rating six water manipulater. Carlos makes sure he knows where to find him if he ever needs anything. The FIA tends to get on the case of higher ratings.

It's because of that rating that Oscar manages to figure out she's not what she says she is. Lando gets wildly defensive when the Aussie brings it up. She just laughs when he threatens to throw his teammates dinner into his face.

They all get along nicely. Lando manages to not send random objects at Oscar despite various threats, and she still finds herself in every garage.

Then Vegas happens, and everything changes.

The crash replays on the screen, but she can't hear it over the sound of her heart. Their soulbond had only gotten stronger, she can feel his pain and discomfort now because of it.

As an established healer, Jon lets her tail him to where Lando is. The medical team only lets her go so far.

But it's worse than anyone is letting on. She can feel his heart slowing, the internal bleeding more than they originally thought.

He's still alive when the race ends, but he won't be for much longer. They won't let her inside. Oscar and Carlos can barely get past the front desk to where her and Jon are sitting outside the door. Doctors are still working away at a problem they haven't found yet.

"They won't let you in?" Carlos gives a look of utter confusion. "Wouldn't it be helpful to them?"

"Yes, but I'm too emotional to be in an operating room as a five."

Oscar's face lights up. "How far does your energy reach?"

"Decently, why?"

"If me and Carlos take our suppressors off, then we can blame the energy on that."

The three of them take off their suppressor in unison with Jon watching the end of the hall in case someone comes around the corner.

The wall makes it hard to navigate. But she knows Lando's aura like it's her own. She's mapped his entire body, healed him more times than she cares to remember.

The flatline of the moniter rings through her ears.

She finds his heart. Where he's bleeding out, where his ribs are cracked and splitting him open.

And she fixes it.

Lando sits up on the table, heat beating erratically, but he's alive. The doctors don't know what to do with themselves.

They open the door. The only one there is Jon, teary-eyed, but not from sadness despire what he says.

~~~~~

Lando is high on painkillers. Though he wishes his human healer were here to make it better. He just wants to meld with her, thank her without words.

Jon had filled him in on the details. It's not safe for her at the moment, but his teammate has her, and Carlos is on his way back to Lando after helping get her settled.

The Spainard drives him back. Even stopping for food on the way since none of them have eaten and Carlos has this perpetual need to store food for the winter. Lando always gets him honey as a joke.

"When you see her, don't panic. There's blood we have yet to clean up from the incisions they made. But it's mostly just pain and exhaustion."

Lando nods and opens the door. The sight is odd, more so than scary. She's on the bed, pale, and covered in different fluids. Her mouth is open, and Oscar is dripping tiny water droplets inside. Her supressor bracelet has been ditched, but her ring is on so the other two can be around her.

Her eyes drift towards him the closer he gets. "Lan!" She tries to sit up but fails after two seconds and yelps in pain.

"If you'd just take the water and stay put, then you might not be in as much pain." Oscar scolds her, but she just rolls her eyes.

Lando crawls onto the bed next to her. His hand drifts over where he heart is, and he places her hand over his. "I'm alive because of you. I can't - I just - I don't understand why they didn't let you in. You're not dangerous. You saved me."

"Lan, it's okay... I'm happy being considered dangerous as long as I have you around."

"Ay! What are me and Oscar then?!"

"Rivals, according to the media." Oscar muses and drops another bead of water into her mouth.

"That was planned and executed well, okay, we make great rivals." Carlos nearly jams some kind of pastry into Oscar's face, but he opens his mouth just in time. "What am I going to do with you three?"

Lando doesn't have the energy to ponder the question. Him and his lover end up falling asleep at some point. Both of them are still in pain and in desperate need of rest.

He wakes up to a call the next morning from Jon. His trainer is adamant about speaking to all four of them.

Yeah, they all get lectured about how he had to go get tested and was humiliated by the hospital staff when they laughed at Jon's own ability. "Aparently, making people sneeze isn't an ability. But I'm happy you're okay, Lando. I would've missed you, buddy."

"I second that!"

"And a third."

Everyone looks at her expectantly. Some kind of response swirls around in her head. Maybe witty or sarcastic with the way she's smiling to herself.

"If you died, Lan, I would've never forgiven myself." Her energy taps on his. It envelopes them, warm and comforting. Their bond still growing stronger as their souls dance together around them.

"Gross, you two should get a room."

"This is our room!"

"Your point?"

Carlos and Oscar can't stop their laughing fit. Delerious from the long night they had previously and little sleep then managed to get. Still, Lando goes back to being in his own world.

He's wrapped up in her, and she's wrapped up in him. Exactly as it was intended to be.

"Reckon you could make an undead army?"

"Osc - I swear to god-!"

[riddle-me-ri]

Hi! I have been searching for a Lupin iii writer for a long time. Can I request a Lupin iii characters when they realise they are in love with the reader. Like that exact moment where they go "Oh god..." Thank you!

a/n: awwww me wee heart this is so cute and was so fun to work on, hope you don't mind I took it a step farther to also explain why/how they fell in love hehe. Hope you enjoy anon! I'm glad to be of service!

Content Warning: super fluffy, like an absurd amount of fluffiness

Lupin and Gang Realizing They're in Love with Reader

Lupin the Third

- To say Lupin falls in love easily is an understatement.

- However, it's usually more along the lines of an infatuation or passing fancy than anything.

- The same can't be said for you however..even though that's how it all started out.

- He flirted with you, gave you gifts, and took on heists for the shere goal of trying to impress you. (much to Jigen and Goemon's chagrin)

- While you seem appreciative of such gestures…you seemed to just appreciate…himself more.

- You enjoyed being in his presence. Hand in hand, arms linked with each other.

- Lupin can't help but enjoy these moments with you too.

- For all his habits, tendencies, and eccentrics…you always stayed by him, never running off or leaving for someone/something else.

- And he loves you for that.

Jigen Daisuke

- Jigen tries to ignore it, hoping it'll pass like a bad day.

- Falling for people has gotten him nowhere, but rock bottom, why would you be any different?

- Well, for starters, you've definitely stuck around longer than most.

- You've stuck by your word, haven't betrayed him…

- Plus it's the little thoughtful things you do.

- You always caught his hat when it would fly off his head, had a spare lighter for his bent cigarettes…

- Yeah, he liked having you around, maybe something more…despite his better judgment…

- He didn't realize just how down bad he was though until he saw you teasingly place his hat on your head.

- Jigen didn't even know he could blush until that moment.

- It was like something switched on in his brain. He knew what this was, but whether you'd find out or not…only time would tell.

Goemon Ishikawa XIII

- Mr. Tries to ignore it #2

- Yet with each passing day, it becomes more difficult to just ignore.

- He can't deny the warm, invasive but comforting feeling he gets when you're around.

- Or how you have his full undivided attention when you call his name.

- When you're gone from his sight for too long; he begins to worry.

- He finds that whenever you're upset, so is he.

- Goemon takes great pride in keeping his emotions under control.

- Yet, when it comes to you and the strong influence you have over him…

- Every waking moment of his contained you in some form or fashion…

- Goemon realizes he loves you, and even if you never find out or don't reciprocate…he would still remain devoted to you.

Fujiko Mine

- It sorta shakes Fujiko to realize how deep she's fallen.

- Much like Lupin, she also tends to just have passing fancies but not with you.

- Fujiko couldn't imagine leaving you high and dry like she's done others.

- She can't help but think of what you and her could do with the loot she manages to steal, not just what she could do with it.

- Fujiko invites you along with her more than her other previous suitors on her trips…

- Your genuine company, the way you make her laugh, your thoughtful gestures…

- All these little things make her fall for you more and more.

- Fujiko doesn't realize it until she finds herself almost saying the three words out loud to you.

- You weren't even giving her anything or offering to go on a goose chase for a lucrative item of her desires…

- You were just staring back at her just as lovingly as she was…

- Fujiko had to stop herself, though, there's no telling what kind of damage those words can cause if uttered out loud.

Inspector Zenigata

- Nervous, fidgety, blushy state of a man.

- The fact that you get his mind off Lupin for even a second says an exorbitant amount of how much you mean to him.

- When he finds his mind drifting to you and what you're up to…(and not just Lupin and his antics)

- It becomes clear to the inspector he has fallen for you.

- Now he feels he has another incentive to catch Lupin; to impress you and to get to spend more time with you.

- Zenigata feels like you're the only person to actually make him calm.

- You're just so supportive, thoughtful, and considerate…never doubting or ridiculing him.

- The way you'd leave proper meals for him in his office or car so he wasn't always eating instant ramen…

- You were always there whenever his stake outs blundered or Lupin inevitably got away.

- You respected him as the Inspector, but you cared about him as a person as well, and understood him better than most…

- Zenigata doesn't deny his feelings, but he denies the possibility of them going anywhere due to his mission of capturing Lupin…

- Perhaps one day he may find the courage, or he finds contentment in the way you two are now and will leave it at that.

[h-didanart]

Don’t mind me, just uh, felt like writing in a fancy way I guess? Idk, I kinda just made this so yeah :P

———

“I would die for you” thinks the former killer, the little fox that’s now their little sibling yelling over some game he lost.

The cub is fierce but not yet trained in the ways of the world, he’d be ripped to shreds were he left alone. They have to make sure he won’t be thrown to the wolves, won’t spend days in hunger or long for comfort over the freezing nights, won’t run to the arms of a monster, that he won’t follow in their path.

He’s their brother, whom they may not have met before but will love as if they did, they’ll watch over him and strike any menace down, they’ll be the best older brother there ever was.

“I would kill with you” say the runaways, the smarter of their group not amused despite the compliment.

Realistically in a fight it would not be able to do much, having such injuries that limit its movement, not like it’d like to join in, death being that thing that’s better away than up close. They may annoy it by poking fun at its work, or its art, or its style, yet a better bud they couldn’t have, it understands the snide remarks, the accusations and infantilization, of others deeming you the crazy one, telling you your life is a lie.

It’s their friend, their sole source of support during all these years, and they’ll help complete its research as silly to them as it seems, just as they’ll come back at the end of the day and annoy it to no end.

“I will die with you” grumbles the warrior, the actor’s core still beating in spite of their broken chassis.

Such delicate machinery, a survivor of those ashen remains, it must be careful if it doesn’t want to lose its leg again. It’s that care he has such trust on, even through their first impressions, he knows it does what it must, they both do what they can, never exactly at peace in the world lest within the other’s arms.

They are his friend, the one who brought him back alive, who may not understand his way of feeling but will still be there to pat his back, he’ll do his best to keep it alive, and if he can’t then better to stick together, neither has anyone else as it stands.

“I will die for you” feel the twins at once, firmly entwined amongst their family.

It was a miracle they had stuck together, original three as compatible as identical magnets, the now five or six as united as a fly in a deadly glue trap. To have heard as life passed while they remained frozen had been a sweet agony, once the stasis traded with separation a new horror dawning, yet they managed to all hold together through the lies and manipulations and disappearances and pains.

They are their family just as much as they are to each other, they’ll keep them safe, they’ll keep them happy, to show they too can change and to truly join the whole family.

“I will kill for you” the demon tells the virus, holding her arm as they bounce towards the unknowing victims.

Calling themselves their Father and taking them in, they hadn’t expected to get much out of this, a pleasant surprise it was when they did. The only person who gets it he was, having been the core program they were based off, the insatiable hunger, an itchy need, what they had to do to live, not even the Morning Star could look so deeply.

She is their Father, not a creator or whatnot, the one who teaches them efficiency, cares about the means more than the results, they‘ll stand by him as long as they live, one does not just betray their kin.

“I will live with you” the vampire promises, both sleep deprived bots staring at the newest project, wondering how it could work.

With a face such as that not much good was expected, yet he pulled through time and time again, reliable, though never to himself it seems. He had helped through the horrors, helped through the numbness, they had learnt of his life and looked up for the stoicism, they make sure he won’t push his limits, they cannot have him throwing himself around all the time.

They may never say it but he is their brother, the one they wished they could’ve had since day one, and it’s such a dumb promise but they can’t help but make it, they’ll live alongside him, live for their talks, live like they owe him to, because they do, they owe him their lives, so they’ll live to make him proud.

[copperbadge]

If its not too personal could you talk about what was the inspiration for Michaelis? He's got a lot of depth to him, especially for what could have been a one off character in the background after Fete. Also the way he mourns but carries on really resonates with me in Jes.

Oh sure! I mean, on the one hand it is quite personal but it's a kind of personal I really enjoy sharing. :D Michaelis began life as the Standard Hallmark Parent -- you see them a lot in the movies, the parent who is

1. Kinda grouchy

2. Usually pushing their kid slightly too hard in slightly the wrong direction (with the best of intentions)

3. Often a widow/er

4. Practically a cameo designed to stress out the lead, but easily attractive enough that they could be romantic lead themselves in the sequel.

There are actually several Hallmark films where the over-sixty characters are either the supporting romance in a one-off film or the main romance of a sequel film. (The Wedding Veil films, which despite their flaws are actually very enjoyable, have a Michaelis-like character for the mother of the male lead in the first movie, and she then becomes the major supporting romantic lead in the fourth movie.)

By the time I got to Michaelis talking to Eddie at the end of the script for Fete, I'd grown to really like him. When I adapted the script to a novel, I liked him even more. I thought that I could do a sequel with him getting jolted out of himself a bit -- and I was encouraged by how many people liked him in the initial read through. The main inspirations for the actual plot of Infinite Jes were, one, Gregory jokingly suggesting he do a podcast, and two, Michaelis's defensive dismissal of Gregory's question about what he's done for companionship since Miranda passed.

Over the course of writing Infinite Jes, he came to be a collection of themes I've explored or wanted to explore, sometimes themes I knew I wasn't skilled enough to handle yet. The core of him is based on a professor I worked with as a student; the confidence that occasionally tips into arrogance, the keen intellect that likes to take things apart, the ability to look at some toxic family traits and decide "RIP but I'm different" and be a present, nurturing masculine figure, all come from that professor, who had a huge impact on me.

But I have also been fascinated for decades now by a certain kind of character in fiction, someone who has had a devastating loss and keeps going, even if they aren't driven by something like revenge. Profound grief is difficult and fascinating for me, and I finally felt capable of exploring that fully, perhaps because the pressure on romance novels is a bit lower at times.

And honestly, a lot of him is me, processing the fact that I am aging in fandom. I'm older (44) than the oldest person I knew in fandom (38) when I joined it at the age of 14. I have, for lack of a better word, a position in fandom, a status, that affords me certain perks and requires of me certain obligations. Not to call myself elected king of fandom ("I didn't vote for him!") but the duty I feel to fandom, both as a culture that raised me and a found family, is very similar.

Most of my characters contain some of me, but Michaelis and Jerry contain far more of me than most, perhaps because I'm in a place to do some reflection. Michaelis -- intelligent, experienced, hopefully a mentor, but also lonely and detached at times -- is who I'm coming to grips with being; Jerry, the charming fuckup with power but no real clue how to use it, who is doing his best to grow up a little later than a lot of his peers and figure out how disability fits into his identity, is who I still see myself as.

So yeah -- I find Michaelis incredibly fun and compelling to write for, and I think that's because I had hit a skill level in my work where I could combine a lot of tropes and themes into one character and use him to explore why I enjoy them so much. But he definitely began life as the Hallmark Widowed Dad. :D Well, there are worse origin stories.

[misshoneyimhome]

Hi there hunny! I am absolutely loving your writing, I feel like so many babes are hopping on the Willy hype finally!! Not sure if you’re actively looking for requests, but I am just in desperate need for a jealous, slightly angry William - like there’s any writing where he looses his cool because he’s just so laid back as a human. I think you could so do it justice, because I’m not meaning like scary angry ya know? Baby girl can’t. But I feel like as a partner and especially in the early stages he could probably come off as noncommittal or just almost too laid back about your relationship - mostly because he’s so secure about it and how he feels that he forgets you can’t read his inner monologue because he wouldn’t have you there if he wasn’t 100% sure. But maybe you try to call it off after seeing him schmooze at a team event and he like loses it out of fear and frustration at himself that you would think he’s not in it or you’re unspoken together but still not exclusive and you’re having fun at the club after a win just dancing but back at home he loses it (cue the stick breaking vid)! Either situation I would be pissed at him for being clueless but think my panties would melt off for an angry, jealous Willy because if you can get that reaction outta that man you’re in for a treat!!

Uh I’m here for it babe! 😍 angry/jealous/frustrated!Willy is just something of a kind, and I love it 😉 [I had a smilier idea a while back, in case you feel like reading this blurb - it has more jealousy 😉 (pure smut btw)]

And thank you btw, I always love people’s feedback, and requests are just so much fun - I love it when everyone shares their ideas ❤️

So, I went with more frustrated!Willy, rather than being jealous - hope that's ok; however, I do have a piece on the way, also inspired by the breaking-stick video, so hopefully, you'll enjoy that 😊

➼｡ﾟ

The Calm Before the Storm I William Nylander

4 months and 21 days.

It had been that long since you’d found yourself in what could be deemed a relationship with William Nylander.

4 months and 21 days of coffee dates, casual walks with his dogs, takeout dinners at his place, passionate, mind-blowing sex, and lazy mornings after his hockey games.

Everything appeared to be flawless – perhaps a bit too flawless.

In many ways, William stood out from your past partners; with him there was no need for pretence or maintaining a perfect front. With him, you could freely express your unique quirks and be completely yourself without hesitation.

But despite your fondness for his relaxed, natural manner, you couldn't help but notice his reluctance to delve into deep feelings or the core of your relationship.

While he'd whisper sweet nothings and lend an ear on your tougher days, he always seemed to be so composed and laid-back about everything.

And it was slowly starting to grate on your nerves.

_

Initially, you found it incredibly endearing and delightful to be in his company. His ability to shrug things off, whether it was a tough loss, a call from his brother about having a rough day, or even the chaotic traffic lately, impressed you.

"If the traffic's bad, I'll just take the subway," he'd casually remark when you'd urge him to hurry up to avoid being late again.

Or he'd say, "Yeah, it sucked that we lost, but we'll do better next time," after a defeat.

His attitude puzzled you, but in a way, you also found it incredibly amazing.

However, as your relationship with this man deepened, his seemingly calm and relaxed demeanour started feeling a bit too complacent. And now, you found yourself wanting a little clarity about your relationship.

Did it genuinely go beyond mere passing time, something romantic perhaps, or were you simply someone he enjoyed spending time with whenever he felt like it?

Undoubtedly, William was amazing. Yet, the more time you spent together, the more it seemed like this situation was somewhat one-sided.

You knew your feelings ran deep for him, so you opted to give it a bit more time, hoping he'd eventually open up.

And as the partner you wanted to portray, you agreed to accompany him to a team event.

_

The evening was meant to be a celebration, a tribute to their team's triumph.

And amid mingling with other teammates and their partners, William wore his usual bright grin and cheerful demeanour. His laughter filled the room as always, and as usual, you put on a smile and stood by his side.

At first, your concerns eased a bit when he kept an arm around your waist while engaging with managers and other club supporters.

However, as the night wore on, his touch and attention seemed to drift away, and you felt a deep stinge of disappointment.

And by your third glass of champagne, you found yourself without your date, chatting with a few of the team members' girlfriends and wives. Luckily, you had a close bond with the girls, yet your attention was drawn to something across the room – William engaging in his always so casual chatter with a small group, including a striking lady who eyed him with a certain longing, much like you would have done.

And as William didn't appear to shy away from her flirtatious gestures, your suspicions were validated.

So, with a soft sigh and a swift glance at your glass, you hastily finished your drink before slowly making your way over to William.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to gather your thoughts as you approached him.

"Hey," you gently said, offering a friendly smile. "I'm sorry, but I think I'd like to head home. You can just stay; I'll get a taxi."

William appeared puzzled by your words, but before he could respond, you swiftly exited the venue and headed towards the cloakroom.

And as you walked away, a part of you hoped he'd follow, while another part desperately needed to escape the situation as soon as possible.

But despite your determined strides to leave, William quickly caught up to you.

"Hey," he said firmly, grasping your wrist as you were about to reach for your coat. "What's wrong?"

His expression showed genuine concern at your sudden change in behaviour, his breaths becoming uneven. He couldn't comprehend what was happening, and all he felt was his heart sinking as he noticed tears welling up in your eyes.

"Will, I can't do this..." you attempted to sound confident, but your voice quivered while maintaining eye contact.

"You can’t do what, y/n? What's going on?" His confusion was evident, and you couldn't help but let out a disbelieving chuckle. How was he this oblivious to his own actions?

"I can't continue like this; I have strong feelings for you," you wanted to yell, but you kept your voice low, trying to avoid any unnecessary drama. "I thought I was more than just a fling, but it seems you don't want to be more, and I'm sorry, but I can't keep going like this..."

"What are you talking about?" William's voice rose in frustration.

He was getting slightly irked by your accusations, yet genuinely confused about what you were getting at.

"You are more than a fling!" he almost shouted.

"Then why do you always act like I’m not and like you don't fucking care about me at all?" Now you were shouting. “You always have to act so fucking cool and tough, and I can’t take it anymore – either you’re sure about us, or you’re not!”

William, his usual calm façade shattered, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

That was when it happened.

As you’d said the words, he could feel his pulse racing, his heartbeat quacking, and his unusual temper about to burst.

You thought he didn’t care…

"God, why can't you see? Shit!" He snapped, his voice filled with an uncharacteristic urgency, his eyes reflecting a storm of emotions. "I'm just... doing this without thinking! I'm not here for a fling, for fuck’s sake! I’m just not good at this, ok!"

You froze, surprised at the outburst, his words striking a chord within you. It was the first time you’d seen him lose his cool, the raw vulnerability in his eyes contrasting sharply with his usual easy-going nature.

"You think I don't care? That I'm not sure about us?" His frustration seeped through every word. Of course, he was sure about you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have held onto you like this. That wasn't his way. "I might not say it every fucking minute, but I am sure about you. It's just... I thought you knew."

Wait, what?

The air crackled with unspoken emotions. His frustration was not because of you walking away from the event or from him, but because he'd failed to express the depth of his feelings, assuming you understood without him needing to spell it out.

To him, you were everything he'd ever longed for. He'd never met anyone like you, never formed such an instant connection with anyone before.

From the moment he had laid eyes on you, you’d walked straight into his heart. And he had been set on keeping you close ever since. You had become his anchor, the true reason to how he always felt so calm and composed – knowing he had you by his side.

But he had failed. Failed to express just how much you meant to him. And now, here he stood, raising his voice at you, feeling the weight of his heartache.

Seeing you in distress tore him apart. The tears pooling in your eyes and the belief that he didn't care about you pained him deeply.

No. This wasn't right.

Releasing a deep sigh, the tension drained from his shoulders. "I should have said it more. I know… I should have made it clearer – how I felt about you."

Gradually, a sense of relief washed over you as you sensed the authenticity in his expression. And it was becoming clear to you that he struggled with verbalizing his emotions, preferring to express himself through a physical love language.

Furrowing your eyebrows in concern, you let out a deep sigh as well.

"Yeah, you should have," you spoke softly, before surrendering to the impulse, taking a step closer and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in a deep kiss.

His hands instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as he reciprocated the intensity of the kiss, fully immersed in the moment.

In that instance, a surge of emotions overwhelmed both of you, drawing you into a heated moment. Gradually, you took a few steps back, retreating deeper into the cloakroom, where William slid his hands beneath your lower back, prompting you to jump, wrapping your legs around his waist.

The kiss intensified, tongues intertwining passionately as he pressed you against the wall, your hands gently cupping his face. You surrendered to the flood of emotions, finally letting go and embracing the feelings you were both openly expressing.

As the passionate kiss escalated, you could feel your bodies heated up, your hands entwining in his semi-long blonde locks, craving for more than just the connection of your lips.

Breaking the intense kiss, both of you were left breathless, needing a moment to recover.

“Willy, take me home,” you whispered, foreheads pressed together. And your wish was his command.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Gotta say your au mixed with the art style and such and amazing work in what we seen so far with the horror and some laughs it's just become a treat every time I saw new details (whenever you supplies them up, thanks for that)

I know you already disclosure that it's gonna be bad BAD TIMES for the puppets gang but does it have it's soft ad fluff times??

The shot were Frank ask Wally if they're dying will looking up for the ceiling hasn't leave my brain, such a raw emotional clear on them, I wonder when they were just the two of them for a while they cuddle or hold hands for comfort??

I just.i just want them to have small victories of comfort

of course it has fluff and comfort! a lot of it! having a nice blend of both makes the fluff feel sweeter & the hurt hit all the harder <3 i will now supply some (written (for now)) examples and tidbits. putting it under the cut cause it got kinda Long

Frank & Wally do become very affectionate with each other! ofc as soon as Frank woke Wally was like "ok im holding your hand everywhere we go, this is Non Negotiable". because its dark! he doesn't want Frank to stray too far or get lost! and it's easier to yank Frank outta harm's way if they're already holding hands. comfort factors into it later, when Frank starts initiating & Wally does it purely to make sure Frank is still there. but yeah they get Very comfortable with each other, to the point where when Eddie wakes up he asks Frank - misinterpreting the situation entirely - "if you'd rather have Wally than me, i understand." ofc Frank laughs his ass off bc uhhh no that is Not what their relationship is, Ed

~ similarly, (almost) everyone acclimates to Wally's need to be as close as possible at all feasible times. he's Very physically affectionate and has little to no regard for personal space or boundaries anymore. like, he'll listen when someone asks him to back off or somethn, but until then he does not give a fuck. and this rubs off on the others as they get used to it

and then there's OH WAIT IDK IF I'VE MENTIONED THIS YET but! Wally - during his main exploration phase - found the Welcome Home episode recordings! and he eventually figured out how to work a tv he found, so he added "watch an episode of me and my friends" into his Routine. when the others wake up, he includes them in this. is it horrifying for them at first? yeah. but they get used to it and find similar if not the same comfort and enjoyment in it that Wally does. like in This Scribble, Frank & Wally & Poppy & Howdy are all watching an episode, and are quoting the lines they've memorized. they all cuddle up on a couch together and watch their favorite show <3

& Wally also teaches them (as they wake up) how to repair and care for themselves / each other, sleeping or otherwise. picture a little sewing circle of Frank, Wally, and Poppy, with Poppy giving tips and guidance on how to improve. these sessions provide them with genuine smiles and sometimes even some laughs.

before Wally & Home's divorce, they'd pass much of the time with games! go-fish, charades, i spy, etc. one of their favorites was when Wally would toss a ball at Home's door, and Home would hit it back. additionally, whenever Wally discovered something new, he'd rush back to Home with it - either the information or the actual thing, if he could carry it. ex: when he'd find books or files, he'd bring them to Home and (quietly) read them aloud while resting against them

and just in general know that the Post Office is a place of safety. Wally has made sure it's secure. i like to imagine like... little craft sessions and impromptu dancing lessons and story sharing going on in there among the awake neighbors. they try to have fun despite it all

that's all i can recall for Act One's fluff tidbits rn, but trust me there is More. and also abundant angsty comfort. the downright painful stuff has to earn its existence yk yk this au is Not grimdark

[theflyindutchwoman]

License and registration, please. C'mon, you don't really need that, do you? You should come to the party after work. We'd have fun. Yeah. I bet we would. … All right, I'm gonna let you go with a warning this time. But slow down, okay? Yeah, I promise. Thank you so much. Yeah. Have fun at that party.

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 3.14 - Threshold

Lucy's first solo undercover assignment… and it's already clear that despite her lack of proper training, she is extremely good at this. The way she is able to quickly think on her feet and adapt to any situation, while remaining level-headed is remarkable. We saw hints of this when she was a rookie but now, we get to see this side of her completely shine. Like how she catches Tim's attention : she knows she's in a perilous situation and the second she sees his shop, she immediately seizes the opportunity to get noticed, all so she can warn Nyla about the incoming robbery without raising any suspicion. I've always wondered whether she recognised Tim specifically when she sped up or not… But regardless, once she sees him in her rearview mirror, her anxiety and worry cranks up a level, with Dahrio ready to shoot their way out. And yet, she manages to take control of the situation. She uses her outward panic to sell her cover story, following Nyla's advice to the letter : You know, if you're not nervous, you're not human. Okay? So, use this to your advantage. Be scared. A nice reminder that Lucy is indeed a quick-learner.

This is also where Tim and Lucy's shorthand comes in handy and is beautifully underlined, with how well they can read and understand the other… And this, despite the fact that they haven't ridden together for close to a month. That's not to say it is perfect either : it is not quite as effortless as the next time she'll go undercover - with him. There's a slight awkwardness present between them. But it works for them. Tim getting caught off-guard at Nova's flirting makes their act more credible in a way. And even though he lets her get away a little bit too easily, it still gets the job done, from Lucy passing all the informations she has to Tim understanding her message. But it goes beyond the dialogue. It's how these two have a whole conversation without words. It's in the intense eye-contact. It's in the physical touch, with Lucy putting her hand on Tim's, using this gesture to ground them both, to reassure him that she's fine and she's got this. It's in the softness of Tim's voice when he tells her to slow down : he's no longer talking to Nova here, he's asking Lucy to be careful. It's in his last look before he leaves - a proud look, trying to infuse how much faith he has in her. And this is such a departure from his original reaction when he found out about her wish to do undercover work. He learned his lesson and he's trying to be as encouraging as he can without tipping off the bad guys. It's subtle but judging by Lucy's look, she got his message.

This is their first interaction since she went undercover… But more than that : it's also one of their first interaction since her graduation. Since her last day as his rookie, which incidentally, was when they last talked about her trying to become an undercover cop. When he last voiced his reticence and doubts on the matter. We didn't get to see his reaction at her going back under for a longer period, without immediate backup. So this little moment is the perfect opportunity to show where his head is at… how supportive he now is. Not to mention that it introduces us to that scene at the wedding, where he openly praises her. And I love how Tim will take this encounter as a reason to get involved in the operation - even from afar - and pester Nyla after that. Because truthfully, he doesn't have any reason to insert himself here : Nyla is the one in charge. He is no longer Lucy's training officer so Harper doesn't have to tell him anything or update him. But she knows how important this is for him. It's also reminiscent of their moment after Day of Death, when they were trying to figure out who might better serve Lucy for her first day back. It's worth noting that this is the first and last time so far that Tim isn't involved in Lucy's undercover mission in whatever capacity from the get-go. But it never comes across as a lack of faith in her abilities or as him being overbearing. It always feel natural, as a show of support. She's calling the shots and he follows her lead… It's a bit of a role-reversal from their former dynanic but it demonstrates how well they complement each other.

[tickle-bugs]

I just wanted to say regardless of whether you've seen the show that you're my favorite ST writer. I dont know how you capture the characters so well while further developing them perfectly but it's genuinely incredible. I must've read your steddie fics like 97 times just because I adore them <3 If you're still taking prompts, I'd love to maybe see Steve and Eddie! Maybe with "Oh this is too good to pass up" as the dialogue? Either way, you're incredible and I can't wait to read all your other work <3

Okay, wow this is VERY sweet ;w; You are so so kind anon. I think I'm getting better at writing them now after having practiced. Those first fics have a fond place in my heart for being the first ones, but every day I am tempted to rewrite them LMAO

anyways, I'm certainly far from perfect but I'm grateful that you enjoy them!! This warms my heart so much. I really do love writing them and the positive response to those fics made me wanna keep going and improve. Still haven't seen the show yet but honestly I'm chilling in this little niche I've carved for them.

Hopefully this fic makes you happy and pushes me a lil closer to being worthy of the honor of being your fav. Really hope you enjoy--I fuckin love these boys <3

...................

Ahoy, Sailor

You can read this as a season three au or as season four. Either way, Steve and Eddie have a bitchy will they/won’t they rivalry situation going on. Eddie REALLY likes pushing Steve’s buttons. 

It’s not unusual for Eddie to find his way to the Harrington house for some excuse or another, but he’ll admit it’s unusual to be invited. He tends to just appear and haunt Steve unasked. It’s more fun that way. 

Steve had called him, muttering something about how Eddie needed to come pick up his vest because it ‘smelled like a depressed hippie’. Eddie had fired back that Steve’s room couldn’t possibly smell any better without it, and their usual bickering had Eddie leaving fifteen minutes later with a grin on his face.

He loves Steve. Messing with him, that is. So, naturally, when Eddie ascends the stairs and sees Steve dressed like a little schoolboy, he takes a minute to compose his best jokes.

“Ahoy, sailor.” Eddie whistles, leaning in the doorway to Steve’s room. He drinks in the Scoops Ahoy uniform and all it blessedly has to offer. 

“Wh—oh, fuck off. It’s laundry day.” Steve rolls his eyes.

“Aye aye, cap’n.” Eddie salutes. Steve flips him off.

“Cool the attitude, sassy lost child.” Eddie snorts. There’s piles of clothes on every surface in the room, arranged in a way that suggests intention but would baffle even the most equipped psychologist. Eddie wants to ask about the system here, but he knows he’s no better, so he just watches Steve flit around with a little pout on his face. 

“You look like Donald Duck’s worst cousin.” Eddie snickers into his fist.

“You done?” Steve puts his hands on his hips.

“For now.” Eddie shrugs. Steve huffs.

Steve keeps rooting through the piles on the floor--slow enough to be mesmerizing, but fast enough where he’s clearly looking for something specific. Oh, his vest. Laundry. Eddie scans the room until, aha--he spots it hanging over the back of Steve’s desk chair, smooth and loved. Striking, compared to the state of everything else. Eddie smiles before he can catch himself. 

“My vest is over there.” Eddie jerks a thumb towards Steve’s desk. 

“Yeah, I see that.” Steve gives him a perplexed look. He shakes his head and keeps drifting through the clothes. 

“Then what are you looking for?” Eddie ventures, stepping into the room properly. As much as he wants to, he doesn’t shrug his vest on. It feels like a conclusion of business, a visual excuse for Steve to kick him out despite the olive branch he’s inexplicably extended. 

“A shirt. Robin’s got a date to impress.” Steve sorts through a pile. He looks between a yellow sweater and a green one, sighs, and tosses them both aside. 

“By wearing…your clothes?”

“Yes, Munson, keep up.” Steve puts a hand on his hip. “She’s gonna be here eventually, probably freaking out, and I wanna give her two options. Just two. She’s gotta look good, but she’s gotta be comfortable.”

“Right.” Eddie nods slowly, as if this makes sense. 

“Hey, make yourself useful. I’ve got this shirt, uhm, dark blue? With a little stripe? If you find it, let me know.” Steve flaps a hand at him. Eddie knows precisely the shirt--it fits Steve distractingly well. 

“I’ll get right on that, sweetheart.” Eddie flops backwards on the bed. Steve shoots him a withering look. Eddie gives his most charming smile and folds his arms behind his head. 

God, he loves this part of their little dance. The way Steve looks at him, the undeniable fondness buried beneath the exasperation—it’s a thrill. 

Steve tugs at a shirt underneath Eddie’s body, but he can’t get it free. He heaves a belabored sigh. 

“Do you mind?” Steve’s eyebrow twitches. 

“Not at all. I’m enjoying myself immensely.” Eddie smirks. 

“If you stretch out my shirt, I’m gonna push you in the goddamn pool. Get up!” Steve jabs Eddie in the side. Eddie giggles and flinches violently.

Steve Harrington is looking at him as if he’s the best present he’s ever received, and while some deep and unacknowledged part of Eddie does flips at the sight, it’s terrifying. 

“Oh, this is too good to pass up.” Steve crawls onto the bed after him, his devilish grin curling wider by the second. Eddie’s face burns and he scrambles to flee, but Steve’s already on top of him. 

“Don’t you dare, Harring—aaah!”  Eddie’s soul and dignity flee him in a high-pitched shriek. 

“Holy shit. I’m barely touching you.” Steve staccato pokes him everywhere he can reach, quick and light, and Eddie can’t stop the giggles bursting from him in waves. He wants to think of something witty to say, but it tickles, and Steve’s smirking—it’s a lot to ask of man under these conditions.

Steve starts tickling him in earnest, his fingers skittering wherever they can reach. When Steve trips up his ribs, Eddie arches like he’s being hit with a defibrillator. He smushes his face into his hands, hoping maybe he’ll smother himself and they can call this a day, but Steve tuts at him and pulls his hands away from his face. 

“No way you’re this ticklish,” Steve says again—does he really need to rub it in—and gives Eddie’s sides a curious squeeze. Eddie shrieks and flips himself over, attempting to crawl towards freedom. 

“Where’re you going?” Steve drags Eddie back into place by his waist. He makes an incoherent whining noise that breaks off into laughter and goes limp on the bed. He tries to roll back over but Steve is solid on top of him. Being face-down gives him the small mercy of being able to hide his face while he cackles.

God, he didn’t even know that the back of someone’s ribs could be ticklish. Holy hell. 

Eddie grabs at Steve’s knee and releases a desperate jumble of syllables. Steve yelps and falls backwards off the bed.

Eddie peeks at him over the edge of the bed, laughter petering off into gentle embers. Steve stares up at him, wide-eyed. Eddie backtracks, trying to figure out why a simple touch would’ve elicited such a big reac—oh. Oh. 

Steve’s halfway down the stairs before Eddie even realizes he’s gone. 

“Hey! Get back here!” Eddie skids after him two stairs at a time, swiping at the back of Steve’s shirt. 

Eddie tackles Steve over the back of the couch, both of them a tangle of screeching, flailing limbs. Steve’s stronger but Eddie is scrappy, having long since abandoned his self-preservation instincts. Steve tries to roll them over and Eddie goes limp. Steve grunts under the deadweight, and it gives Eddie the two seconds he needs to clamber on top of him properly. 

“Now—“ Eddie finally wrestles Steve down, huffing a lock of hair out of his eyes— “What the everloving fuck was that?”

“Nothing.” Steve’s poker face is good, but Eddie can see right through that easy smile. He walks his fingers across Steve’s stomach. Steve inhales sharply. 

“Didn’t sound like nothing.” Eddie raises his eyebrows innocently. Steve narrows his eyes at him, but his fake smile is very slowly twitching into a real one. 

Spurred on, Eddie kneads into Steve’s stomach, gentle and a little clumsy. Steve trembles under him, wrenching a hand free just to cover his face. Little huffs and snickers wobble out of him. 

“Dishing out what you can’t take? Oh, this is precious.” Eddie snickers. Steve shoves his hand into the side of his face to push him away. Eddie licks it.

Steve screeches, but that breaks the dam. The first beautiful sound from him is a snort. Eddie gasps happily, then laughs right along with Steve. 

It’s not that Steve doesn’t laugh, he does, but it’s often the restrained chuckle that Eddie loves to give every royal NPC in his campaign. Eddie’s never heard anything like this, this bubbly rush littered with voice-cracks and little bouts of nose-scrunched hiccups. He didn’t know Steve was even capable of these kinds of noises.

The stupid little Scoops shirt rides up and Eddie takes advantage of bare skin. Steve squeals and goes boneless on the couch. He hits Eddie with the full brunt of his smile, unfiltered and radiant, and something in Eddie’s chest flutters. 

“EddieEddieEddie--” Steve snorts again, and the speed at which his face turns scarlet suggests embarrassment. Eddie can’t imagine why. 

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Eddie reaches behind him and finds Steve’s knee, tickling just where the goofy shorts stop, and Steve wails. He curls his head into Eddie’s chest and seems to resign himself to die there. Eddie has absolutely no feelings about how warm Steve feels or the desperate little leg kick he does. 

Steve grabs Eddie’s wrists and he relents, figuring the promise of future mischief is a sufficient tradeoff for a truce. Steve collapses back into the couch cushions with a delirious little giggle, rubbing his hands over his beaming face. Steve peeks at him overtop his hands, then snickers again. 

The longer they sit here, both breathing a little hard, the longer Eddie has to notice the gentle warmth and curve of Steve’s eyes. A hysterical man would call them doe-like. Eddie accepts this new state of being and leans a little closer. His guitar pick necklace dangles over Steve’s chest. Steve’s jaw falls slack, eyes flitting to Eddie’s lips. Eddie’s hair falls in a frizzy curtain around them both. 

Eddie doesn’t see Robin so much as he hears her—the screech of disgust bounces off every wall. He pops his head up and they make direct, unfortunate eye contact. She shoots him an all-knowing look with her beady, accusatory little eyes and he gives her his most threatening zip it gesture. 

Steve decides that that’s the moment to counterattack, sending a cackling Eddie toppling off the cushions and onto the floor. Steve slides down after him, ducking under a flailing arm and scribbling his fingers wherever he can reach. Eddie curls up like a pillbug. He can hear Robin saying something but it's unintelligible over the sound of his own laughter.

“I know, right?” Steve grins back at her, then looks back to Eddie. Softly. 

Steve has the audacity to wink at him. Eddie files that little moment away for Tonight Eddie to scream into a pillow about, and instead focuses on launching a counter-counterattack that’ll save his life. 

[galactic-rhea]

possibly the most obvious ship i could send for the ask meme but anidala/vaderdala!

ohohoh of course, them!!!!

when I started shipping it if I did:

Probably since I started watching TCW and saw some fanarts! Which I know it's a bit odd because most people apparently dislike them in TCW (and yeah, when I finally watched the movies I get why!), but that very first iteration of them in i think, the second episode of TCW with them kissing in an enemy ship, with Obi-Wan a few metres away, and all because she randomly ran into danger, was very, very fun to me, so I shipped them in a "they're dorks" way.

Then a saw all the epic tragedy romance stuff and, yeah, i'm sold.

my thoughts:

I think I have said it before, but there's something very "bigger than life" about their romance, which is what kept me hooked beyond "is just funny". They're extremelly passionate people, with the height of the world on their shoulders, and with sides of them that no one but the other knew about each other. Particularly with Padmé becuase she's very cold and compossed most of the time (it's her politician facade!). Anakin overall is just very painfully obvious and easy to read, but he still kept many things from the world, and Padmé knew most of that iceberg, so to speak, and they still loved each other madly despite the ugly side.

What makes me happy about them:

They're just,,,very romantic and silly! When they're actually together and in a situation where they're allowed to relax, they're just very dumb and in love 😆 I think what it makes me so happy about them is that you could tell how happy they were with each other, despite being so miserable most of the time, they just loved each other so much and that's nice.

What makes me sad about them:

This doesn't need answer, lmao 😭😂 But yeah, the,,,tragedy and damnation, Anakin turning on her despite doing all of that for her on the first place hurts so much

things done in fanfic that annoys me:

I'll be honest, I haven't read that many fics that focus anidala? At least no yet, it's been less than a year since a got into this. But I guess it could be that,,,many times they're tagged and then in the fic it's barely mentioned, like sometimes it will be just Anakin randomly thinkin "ah yes, padmé" lol

Another thing could be that,,,ehhh Padmé rendered to just girlboss/dominatrix/ the one that just gives Anakin a glare to keep him on check as if he's a manchild. And the diametrically opposite of this which is just sad, crying, poor wife in a domestic abusive situation and Anakin being the epitiome of Evil Bad Boy Sexy Cool Kidnapper

things I look for in fanfic:

Honestly i just want them being fairly in-character, I feel like they're very easily misinterpreted. But again, everyone has a different opinon on them, I guess, so -shrugs- Probably more situations in which Anakin is the one kidnapped/wounded/in danger and Padmé has to do something about it, so hurt/comfort!

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

Ah....-scratches head- They're so obssesed with each other that it's hard for me to think about that. Like, sometimes I fancy for the giggles and jokes some other ships for them in like a passing crush way, like Anakin and Rex, or Padmé and Breha, but, their narratives are so damn tangled into each other's that it's hard to, but that's just me.

My happily ever after for them:

Anakin leaves the order, Padmé steps away from politics and run away to Naboo to raise their twins, like they always wanted 🥺

Alternatively, I like to believe their ghosts are very happilly looking over Luke and Leia,,,,,,,and also haunting and scaring some random privileged senators passing awful bills in Coruscant. They love writing messages on mirrors with red lipstick

who is the big spoon/little spoon:

I think Padmé likes to be the big spoon just to more easily bite and headbutt him. But they switch, i suppose, because I'm sure Anakin sometimes just really really wants to hpld her.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity:

Domestic: Just talking, the most boring and mundane stuff, but they just like talking.

Not so domestic: These two are wild souls, they probably enjoy randomly rushing to help some planet/cause/random battle, whatever. In an ideal scenario, this usually means rushing into the ship to go and bail their children out of jail, organize a heist, or a little slave liberation. While holding hands.