#would maybe put him out of his misery tho

[chirpsythismorning]

📝 💐 🛼 💔⏪️💭🧊🌄❤️‍🩹

More Than Words by Extreme

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[quimichi]

-ˏˋ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ CRUSH HDCS ࿐ྂ Pt. 1.....

WARNING: × pure fluff in my opinion

SUMMARY: just some idiots with a crush...you :)

CHARACTERS: Aether, Albedo, Al-haitham, Amber, Arlecchino, Ayaka, Ayato & Baizhu x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.537

AETHER

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Paimon is so done with his constant ranting and crying about you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 She had to stop herself from telling you so often like "Just PLEASE date him already" because she couldn't just fall into her besties back like that

ᯓᡣ𐭩 you would think he doesn't really like you cause he's all quite. Wrong, he actually jusz tries to cope with his rising heat and nervousness around you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did he once tell you that you smell nice even tho you were sweating lile a sinner in church? Yes

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did he also tell you that you look a bit different and like you haven't slept good after a haircut?...yes

ᯓᡣ𐭩 listen, he was concerned for you-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 everything was so embarrassing for him he thought you hate him now--- well, you didn't. Its hard not to find this weird and awkward ball of sunshine nice

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he also helps you out a lot, no matter whats the issue he's ready to help. And Paimon is the third wheel

ᯓᡣ𐭩 sometimes when he's nervous and talks to you he like suddenly needs to swallow down spit cause it gets stuck in his throat?? Idk how to explain it but i have this issue lol and its so hard to cover up the swallowing cause then people know youre nervous-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 literally once walked into a wall because he was looking at you. Luckily no one saw...except Paimon--she won't let him forget that ever

ᯓᡣ𐭩 speaking of Paimon, bro literally asked her for advice, and she was useful? Hey, look. Shes more than just emergency food-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she was like, "If you truly love someone, you cook them something good! Love goes through the stomach!"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and thats why he desperately cooks for you every day---just put Paimon out of her misery and kiss him already

ALBEDO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 has no idea how and why it happened but he won't complain, you are pretty so-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 kinda takes it as an opportunity to study love a bit lol. Its not like he's dumb, far from that, he knows what hes feeling and why he feels attracted to you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but somehow he can't tell you, words fail him to explain why although he knows

ᯓᡣ𐭩 is confused and is irritated lol

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did tell Succrose about it and my girl can hardly keep secrets-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 oh and like around a week after he noticed his crush on you he confessed

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he's pretty blunt and honest, straightforward if you will.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 there's honestly not much to say, he knows he likes you, also probably knows it's mutual, logic conclusion would be that he confesses so you two can consider a relationship after some time

ᯓᡣ𐭩 easy??? Like what's not to get???

AL-HAITHAM

ᯓᡣ𐭩 the strongest feeling he ever had for someone else was a book character-and that's also pretty rare cause he doesn't read fiction he only reads facts-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 treats you normally with a sprinkle of kindness

ᯓᡣ𐭩 you don't notice, no one would notice. Good for Al-Haitham cause ew what if people realize hes just a regular human being?? Can't have that

ᯓᡣ𐭩 would tell you to take breaks and eat an apple or other fruits in those breaks so you can concentrate better afterwards. Oh and take a breath of fresh air

ᯓᡣ𐭩 keeps the bitch face on. Only drops it when you're not looking.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 finds it incredibly cute when you play with your hair or bite your lip. Your concentration is adorable...

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if you read like him, he would consider reading one of your favorite books, even if it's stupid and not his thing at all. He wants a good reason to talk to you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 has no idea how to get out of the "I'm so fucking cool" bs to actually get closer to you without seeming cringe or needy

ᯓᡣ𐭩 feelings aren't his thing but hey, he trys. Just pay more attention and maybe you make it easier for him by doing the first step

AMBER

ᯓᡣ𐭩 nah cause she's so honest about it-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 probably all Mondstadt and their granny's know that Amber has a crush on you, except for you....dumbass

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she always asks you if you wanna join her on god knows what adventures

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she also always packs lunch for you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 like i said, she is pretty vocal about it and shows it quite well that she has an interest in you....and youre just brushing it off as kindness

ᯓᡣ𐭩 always ready to help! And she doesn't even need a thank you. Helping you is enough to make her happy, seeing your relieved is all she needs.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 gifts you flowers on a regular basis because they're just as pretty as you ♡

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she's so straightforward about her crush on you it's insane. People think she's dating you already, well wrong--

ᯓᡣ𐭩 big talk and actions but when it comes to beinh very vocal about her feelings she shuts down-she would stutter and blush not knowing what to say-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 like, pls stop being so oblivious to her attempts and just tell her you like her--then she'll confess too!

ARLECCHINO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 look, she's a busy woman (father), she doesn't have time for stupid crushes. She'll either tell you immediately once she figured it out, or just waits till the feelings disappear over time.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 why? If she is uncertain that this would work out with a fatui harbinger, then she wouldn't confess at all. You won't notice a thing.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but if she does feel like it could work out, maybe not immediately because you need time...and yeah maybe she needs to know a 100% too, she would court you (??)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 presenting you the finest things from all nations. Also giving you ifts from your home region cause...well maybe you miss it? And if you're from Fontaine she gives you only the most expensive shit hidden from all normal ordinary people-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she sneaks her way in your heart ngl-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and if she ever sees you with one of the things she gave you, she would make sure others know. Who knows who might have an interest in you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 would also make some space in her schedule just for you. Lets you know too. No, not to make you feel bad, nahhh. She wants you to know how important you are to her.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and that she will always have time for you no matter what.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she's kinda advertising herself. "Look, I'm the baddest bitch around."

AYAKA

ᯓᡣ𐭩 also makes space in her very busy schedule just for you. And if she can't find the time so you both can be alone, she takes you with her to her appointments and everything.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 wants her brothers 'ok' for it all. She wouldn't feel quite comfy if Ayato wouldn't like you. Thomas opinion is also very important to her.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if she every plays this weird cooking game with you, she trys to make it tame. She doesn't want you too disgusted or near throwing up cause then she'd feel bad

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and also trys cooking for you normally. She trys ok, she's getting better and better. Takes this as an excuse to cook your favorite meals.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 dances with you! She's shy about it but she does. Ayaka teaches you her favorite dances and moves, and would get quite close to you by doing this...plus for her

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but besides this she's very shy about her crush on you and won't admit it very fast. Even after months she wouldn't dare say a word about it to you or hint anything to drastic.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 tbh, it has to be you who would need to make the first step lol

AYATO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 very obvious...I mean...he gives you flowers, jewelry, new clothes. He takes you to events or dinners, important meetings. Lets you stay in the Kamisato estate for free. Bitch you even have your own room??

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ITS SO OBVIOUS

ᯓᡣ𐭩 i can't tell you more, except, just...just talk with him about it. Confront him and say, "yes" that's all he wants to hear from you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and see you happy ofc

BAIZHU

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if Chansheng can keep her mouth shut he wouldn't tell you at all. Or at least not so fast.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if you know, you know. Baizhus story is...something. i won't spoiler tho

ᯓᡣ𐭩 because of that he needs to be very sure about it all. He can't just jump into something that might not work out at all or have no future in the beginning.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he would show his interest with nice little gestures. Giving you medicine for free, helping your loved ones when sick also for free, smiling just a bit more at you or teaching you about herbs and all.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he's very gentle with you, scared he might break you. In truth it's actually him who would break--

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Qiqi would notice, she's a smart girl ofc she would. Yeah she knew you two were a thing before you two knew lol

ᯓᡣ𐭩 oh yeah and Changsheng blew it all-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Your hands wouldn't shake so much if you wouldn't love her"

TAGLIST ♡

@hehothrowawayfae @lucienbarkbark @ryu--19 @theblades @rikasurl

[honestsycrets]

dedication | young!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ pairing | young geneticist!miguel o'hara x scientist!reader

❛ type | oneshot, explicit.

❛ summary | alchemax is a dangerous place to work. miguel's new assistant may be over her head. maybe he can help her, though.

❛ tags | virgin reader, f!reader, shitty science, plot heavy, loose canon references, literary liberties, loss of virginity, overprotective Miguel o'hara, jealous miguel o'hara, some objectification, workplace politics, aftercare (as requested), corruption (is it tho?), bc what bc, Spanish is not translated, young!miguel, heel-foot fetish, somewhat romantic.

❛ fulfilled request | can we please have a miguel x virgin reader and he didn’t even know until he was already putting it in?? And then voila his corruption kink unexpectedly growS? @a--dedicated--fangirl

❛ sy’s notes | miguel sort of works on that whole corruption aspect throughout this fic, but i wanted to meld these two ideas together to create a reader who is entirely dedicated to Miguel. This piece was a bit long for me.

“Miguel, your new assistant is here.” 

On paper, you’re an excellent candidate for the genetics program. 

An excellent GPA, renowned company internships, decent publications, and a diverse upbringing. It was all good. Great, even. But as the head of the genetics program at Alchemax, he has a little thing called priorities. Interviewing everyone himself was low on the rung of shit he felt like he should be doing. There was, however, one little, itty bitty, tiny problem with bringing you on board.

“Dr. O’Hara? ¿Estas bien?”

That shirt-- is not meant to hold those-- His brain was left field, glimpsing at them. A slightly sheer button-up revealed the outline of your bustier and its inability to conceal your body. They should have been illegal. He was pretty sure they were illicit in the handbook on his table. He should really read that again. Maybe then he wouldn’t be salivating over something as simple as a co-worker-- He needed to get out of the lab. The bleached walls tightened around him, the space smaller than he remembered. He was going to get caught.

Realistically, the lab was full of witty people. Many of them were witty men with subpar looks and stupider dicks. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. Not only because your lips were plump, painted petal-pink, and kissable or because the depth of your sultry eyes went straight in the dick. No, but because that would be improper of a man of his stature to tell one of the only women in his care that she was too gorgeous for the job you were clearly qualified for. 

“Sí, coño,” He fixed his glasses, crooked on his broad nose. He stood up from his desk and grabbed his lab coat, swirling it around his broad shoulders. If he wasn’t mistaken, you tracked the movement with your eyes. “Do you want a cafecito? Miss…”

You told him your name. He mulled it over on his tongue, lathing it in a gentle acknowledgment. Cemented it in a place he wouldn't forget. You tinked your head to the side, your lashes fluttering when he cleared his throat. Great, just shocking-- 

“After you,” he headed for the door. He held it open for you, plastering his back to the wood. It didn't matter. You slid by closer than he’d prefer, your hand catching on his belt buckle with muttered apologies. This wasn’t going to end well. 

Cafecito is an excellent excuse to pull his dumbass together. 

It also calms his nerves, centers his mind, and allows him to compartmentalize. Whether or not you could hold your own wasn’t his issue, his issue was the necessity of someone he could trust. Ugly, beautiful-- so long as they were efficient, Miguel would make due. The cafeteria was a large and clean space. The many tables were crowded with wrap-around stations for poorly crafted, misery-inducing meals. Miguel paid and took a seat at a creaky table. One where he could see the door open, shut, and keep an eye on the comings and goings of meager scientists and annoying managers. 

“You’ll be working with me.” 

You pursed your lips around the warm cup of coffee, taking a ginger sip. He noted your lipstick stain that remained as you pushed the cup toward the middle of the table you shared with him. This damn suit vest was stifling. He gave you a long, slow look, tilting his head to the fact that you’d not drunk anything. It’d be rude to acknowledge.

“Delgado told me,” you smiled warmly. “He said you’re a genius. I don’t know that I believe in geniuses.” 

Hmph. Delgado, things fell into place. That sycophant knew what he liked. He also knew that Miguel was better than him, always was, and always would be. Miguel offered you a slick smile, convinced he could assure you otherwise if he needed to. “Delgado says a lot of things. I’m surprised he gave you to me.”

“Why is that, O’Hara?” the way his name slipped off your tongue was a hot sin. If only he believed in a god. His eyelids shifted over his eyes, heavy-lidded and dark.

“You’re beautiful. He likes to collect beautiful things,” Miguel tried, curious.  Your nails clicked in succession over the table. A repetitive click, click, click. He would be annoyed too if he were no more than a ploy. A distraction. Miguel wasn’t sure that it wasn’t working. His eyes flickered down, catching one of your palms curling into a tight fist, tension rolling through your fingers and up your arms. “He knows I do too.” 

You leaned in, close enough that he could spot the unique freckles spread out in a crescent moon beneath a layer of makeup on your face. Beautiful. “I’m not here to belong to you, O’Hara. I hope you know that.” 

He was off to a great, fantastic start.

 “Understood.” Miguel leaned back in his chair, a smirk creeping up his lips. Or, believe that you believed that. You spared him any more mincing comments. Appeased by his suggestion, you brought your drink back to your lips.

“Good. What are we sequencing?” 

“Me.” 

You swallowed. “You? You can’t be--” 

Mhm, he stared, lips pressed tightly together. “You’ll code my DNA. Then we’ll splice it.” 

"With what?"

"You'll see."

“Is this your little,” you swirled your finger in a circle. “Pet project?” 

Unfortunately not, he would have liked to say. That information was confidential, and though you worked on the project, there were levels to his willingness to involve you in the delicate flow of workplace politics. Still, you might make a healthy distraction from his work. Miguel took a swig of his cafecito, boring into the black substance.

“Something like that.” 

Having a pretty assistant means things don’t always get done according to schedule. Not quickly enough, not by far. There is a time limit to everything at Alchemax. The quicker, the better. Thus this project demanded more hours of his time. The project was spliced between the work required of him by superiors and you, your quirks, and your preferences. 

Miguel has learned a great many things about you in a short amount of time. You don’t appreciate misplaced pet names. You actually can’t handle coffee because of the caffeine or the sugar. He also learns things about himself. How little he likes when Delgado comes to check on progress because he isn’t actually checking on shit. He's checking you out. 

He likes to weasel his nasty fingers around the door, peering in to try and find out what specimen he’s actually working on. Miguel was much too smart for that. His beady eyes caught Miguel over your shoulder, mumbling up to him about a new finding in tests you ran earlier that day. Your face mask twirled around your index finger, finally free and at a documentation workspace.   Funny, because he clearly redacts information from your well-recorded notes on the daily. You refuse to include less.

“Hey Mike,” he said. “How are things… Oh hey, you. You settling in, honey? Mike treating you ok? I can discipline him for you.”

“As if you could,” Miguel huffed. 

But Delgado spying on you, the way you record progress by pouting out your lips, shifting between paper and your lab reports, was intolerable. Because... well, he has sensitive information on there. Your nose scrunches in distaste, but you bow your head just slightly as a hello. He might be his supervisor, but Miguel doesn’t need one to know why this asshole is in his lab turning his smarmy brown eyes over the way you sit: one leg over the other. You seem to realize it too, trailing your eyes over his gaudy suit to Miguel’s sinewy hand on your shoulder. 

“Stop being a creep,” Miguel complained, “She has actual work to do.”

“Actual work? As opposed to--“

“Yes, what you do.” Miguel spat out. You eschewed a giggle, turning your face over a pristine white lab jacket that thankfully, you had no qualms in wearing. Otherwise, he might not finish any work in the lab at all. 

“I supervise--

“You’re still talking but we’re not listening,” Miguel waved him off, plucking up papers by your side. Your eyes snap up to Miguel’s deep chocolate eyes hidden behind the thin frame of his metal glasses, waiting for a proper response. “Goodbye, Aaron.”

Miguel walks to the door, locks it with a click, and returns to your side. You glance at his white lab coat, fluttering around his tapered waist. He loves the way your eyes look at him with a soft, inviting expression, beseeching him to come to sit by your side as he always did. “Not a fan of Delgado, I take it.” 

“Are you?” Miguel sits with his legs spread, his fingers threading through his thick brown hair. You set your papers down, swiveled toward him. The wheels of your rolling chair squeak on either side of his thick, black boots. His eye catches your thick thighs, squashed between your midi skirt, its atrocious slip causing him discomfort. His hand leaves his thick hair, dropping in unison side by side. 

“I can’t stand being called honey, Mike.” 

“Shut up.”

The days proceed similarly. Days filled with brushing past him as he slides in samples and reagents. He might lose a sample, clattering on the floor, and you always rush to help him clean up. Lunch together, because no matter how late he eats, you’re there beside him. Then as night falls, you stay until he has finished whatever he needs to do.

“Time to eat something,” you slipped into his office. The clock ticked past midnight. Miguel flicked through handwritten pages of information that did not need to be recorded in computer files. You watched his eyes scan over the ink on the page, acknowledging you with a grumpy grunt. Not now, not when he was so close to finishing the last section of the project.

“Empanada,” you turned his palm over, placing the flaky pastry in his hand. Caramelized apple. He loved a good apple empanada. He watched as you walked over to the coffee maker, drawing him a warm cafecito just how he liked it. Miguel dropped his pen, stretching out his aching spine. 

“Gracias. From where?” 

“I made them,” you set down the cup a little harder than intended. The surface rippled, throwing hot coffee drips onto his pages. His eyes flickered up from the pages to your eyes. Without thinking, he blathers:

“That so?” A pause. “Don’t you have a man?” 

“Miguel. With this sequencing project, you’re the only man in my life. Shut up and eat the empanada.” 

“Huh. Good. I like that.” He swallowed the empanada with a bob of his head, his tongue lathing over his teeth for any more of the sweet sugar. He stood up, finding your expression soft, drawn out by a sense of longing that he couldn’t imagine he saw.  

“You like my sad love life?” 

Yes.

“No, we have a company event. A ball,” Miguel chided, his tone gentling as he slipped away from his desk, abandoning his steamy coffee on his desk. He backed out of the doorway, “It’s all Stone’s politics. You know how these things are. I have to go. Come with me.” 

“Is that a request or an order?” 

“A date.” 

I’d love to. Your words were the only thing that made tonight bearable. Slinking his tanned skin into a dark blue suit that cinched everything too tight was… unbearable. It clung to his skin like a second skin and choked off his air. But it might be worth it to see your face-- just maybe. He tracked the fluttering tails of fish behind bulletproof glass, following them as they fluttered away into their rock. He wished he could too. 

“Miguel?” 

“You’re here,” he turned around, dropping the champagne he idly held in his hand. It went forgotten by his boot as you called his name again. His gaze fixed on yours, the slinky navy blue dress caused his heart to thrum through his chest, chasing the sight of your body at his feet, picking shards of glass up with the aid of a worker, apologizing profusely for the mess. A soft puff of breath slipped from his lips as you stood back up, gripping your purse a little harder in your hands. He ran his hand over his jaw, drawing himself back to his senses.

“Miggy,” he husked out. “Call me Miggy.” 

“You look handsome, Miggy,” his name felt unreal on your lips until he felt the pressure on his elbow. Your soft hands slunk around his, cradling him for some security in the face of the large doors. He shook himself back to his senses. Right, there was a reason he was here. “But shouldn’t we go?” 

He should have-- but did he want to? No, not really. He didn’t want to see Stone’s greasy face, let Aaron take a peek at how you looked dolled up, or any of the rest of these fuckers. What he wanted was something else entirely. 

“Listen.” Miguel stopped, his other hand coming to the jeweled bracelet on your wrist. The doors to the ballroom lapsed, groups of older men filtering in and out with their pieces of the night: doting wives, longing husbands, and partners that their wives or husbands probably didn’t know about. “Don’t wander off from me. They’re all snakes. All of them.” 

“Even you?” 

“Hermosa,” you didn’t leer at him. “I’m the least of your worries.” 

He wasn’t wrong. The ballroom was dolled up in lush fabrics, fine china, and a copious amount of food as it was every year. Miguel found the attempt to distract from what really went on behind closed doors at Alchemax a bit cloying. This year the music was at least tolerable. It filtered out into the ballroom in a syrupy melodies driven on by the soft, promises of rich men for the exchange of sex. For much of the night, he could stomach the various men poking and prodding at him about his impending research. So long as you were here.

“Miggy,” you breathed, a hot puff of air against his ear. He leaned down, his hand atop of yours. “Will you dance with me?” 

Dance? Miguel had two left feet-- it’s why he was a geneticist. For all the work you did on his behalf in the lab, including this very night, he owed you the benefit of whatever you wanted. He searched out a quiet area, one where the only disruption could be the stream of moonlight in through a window. You preferred it over the wall of vivacious men and over-powdered women. He preferred it over the atrocity of his footwork.

“It’s not much of a date,” Miguel’s hand slid around yours. He encompassed your small palm with his large hand, the other gliding across the soft, exposed skin of your back. You swayed with him, side to side. He was an awful dancer, but there was something endearing about that. He saw it in your eyes, the glimmer of curiosity, gliding your dark heels against the inside of his foot. Damn, he still sucked.

“No,” you agreed, shifting to take the lead. He followed your steps. Right, back, left, up. Maybe he stepped on your long dress once or twice, too. Shock, he cursed again, stepping over your foot.

“You’re remarkably bad at this.” You settled your head on his chest, letting your box steps fade into little more than the shifting of your hips. 

“I know. Let’s just-- sway?” 

“Swaying is good.”  

“O’Hara,” boomed Stone. But of course— peace couldn’t last forever. Like a bullet through the chest, a voice caused him to turn in startle. His tan cheeks flushed with warmth, feeling cut off from the cover of others. He was dressed in the most gaudy of clothes that almost seemed to match the crooked expression on his pale face. No matter how many times he tried to fix it, it always looked… wrong. 

Stone’s hands came together, clapping multiple times to force the crowd of politicians, scientists, and bought-in participants to fade away. His voice caused Miguel to growl, a low rumbly noise that you soothed with your breasts pushing gingerly against his arm. He could do it. He could handle this pompous little shit-- “And who is this beauty? A new girlfriend, perhaps? Fiance? O’Hara could do with a wife. Settle him down, y’know.”

Miguel huffed out of his nostrils. “This is my lab partner,” he cleared his throat, leaning forward. “For… the project.”

“Her? A lab partner? Ha!” 

Shock. He didn’t have to look at you to know you were insulted. Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing out the tension as you smiled through the interaction, taking over for Miguel. “We have measurable results.” 

“That’s what I like to hear, sweet thing. Now, Miguel, Aaron has found a test subject…”

“I’ll interview them.” 

“No need! I--” 

“Excuse me, Mr. Stone. I’ll let you two talk,” you slipped away, your heels clicking off into the busy crowd. Stone was talking. Miguel knew he should listen closely. His half-formed plan to see what the future held for his research was wafting into the air, wisps of it in his ear. Tomorrow-- test-- can you? Panic blinded his senses. He could find you nowhere in the room, and even if he did, would he be too late? 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine, it’s… excuse me.” 

The issue with falling for someone was the scythe of his fear. His position was inherently risky. No matter how many groups of people he cut through trying to find you, you weren’t there. No tiny little appetizers of shrimp on half a skewer. No booze, because your head would swim. Not near the bathrooms, either. He rushed down the steps when he found you, just before the large iron gates, staring up at the stars peppering the sky. 

At your feet, Aaron. His drunken fingers trying and failing to guide the strap off of your ankle. You, of course, sat there staring dumbly down at his failed attempts to do something as simple as fix your damn heel.

“I’ll take it from here.” Miguel booted Aaron out of the way. Who, with his sloppy sloshed curses, tried to win a fight with him. He eventually won out. Aaron slunk away, somewhere up the steps. Miguel wasn’t counting. “You didn’t listen.” 

“Hm?” 

Miguel loosened both straps, sliding his open palm under your foot for one then the other. You gazed at him, sliding the black heels off your feet, tutting his tongue at the blistered back of your feet. 

“I told you not to wander off.” 

“I just wanted to see the stars. Besides, it was just Aaron.” 

“It’s never just Aaron. It’s Aaron and Stone.” Miguel’s eyebrows pushed against one another, recording your failure to listen. You crossed one leg over the other, sliding your toes over his silk tie, kept beneath a vest. He knelt before you, searching your eyes for the right answer. “You don’t know… what you’re getting into. I’m trying to keep you safe.” 

 “I don’t need you to. I can take care of myself, Miguel. Please don’t--” you sighed. “Don’t be like them.” 

He knew what you meant. Like Aaron, peeling off your shoes at the sign of discomfort because you were a pretty woman. Or Stone, who couldn’t comprehend your value as a scientist. Those who doubted you because of your color, gender, or a mixture of the two. His mouth twisted in frustration. He was in deep. Whatever you desired, he wanted to give. It came at a price.

“Are you mine,” the words came out stiff, “or theirs?” 

“Miggy,” you turned the word over on your tongue, willing him to stand down. His dark eyes settled on yours, unmoving. “Why do I have to pick?” 

“You can’t have both. You’ll have to choose. One day.” 

Your mind worked. He knew from the way you pursed your lip out, then in, puncturing its pillowy surface with your teeth. You shifted your gaze to the water, the stream coursing down the unfeeling stone. Miguel's fingers ran across your inner thigh, causing you to gaze down at him. The steps of others on the other side of the fountain, fading into the depths of the night caused you to break his gaze. Miguel offered you his hand, fitting the shoes under his other arm as he walked toward the valet. You took his hand and interlaced your fingers.

“Do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” you said, though the words felt thready and thin, nary a whisper. Something in the undercurrent of your voice concerned him. A thread that needed to be snipped, convinced of the vileness of the city-- of who you worked for. 

He doesn’t make mistakes. 

But he left the project code on his desk. It should have been there, yet, the corpse of a decrepit, awful creature withered on the lab floor proved otherwise. Someone had taken it because he was distracted. As a result, someone lost their life... even if it was Stone's doing.

Now, scouring through his papers, his hands tremored like a common drug addict. He supposed he was one, a druggie, tremoring like a shot hungry, Rapture crazed-- 

“Miggy?” 

He snapped around. His gaze melded your figure into one beautiful blurb, even with the glasses on his broad nose. It was your voice, coded in something close to concern. Miguel ran his hands through his hair, long strands falling messily over his eyes and cheekbones. He flattened his hands out atop his head.

“What are you looking for?” 

“The notes,” he weathered a breath. He doddered about the room, throwing a stack of paper onto the floor. They crumpled over the floor, mixed projects, notes on the specimen, but none were his. “Where are my notes?” 

“You’re sick,” your voice broke gently, as if speaking them alone helped. A horrid crack of laughter slipped from his throat, drawing into a long lament as he repeated the words after you. Sick, you said, he was sick. If being sick was the least of his issues, he would have been a happy man. Your steps rang into his ear, heavier than before, painful and loud. He crumpled onto the couch in his office, his hands cupping them. Your soft hands coursed over his chest, unbuttoning his starched button-up and sliding it down his muscular upper arms. “This might hurt.” 

No kidding, needles always hurt. But the instantaneous relief that flooded his system overrode the momentary pain. As your fuzzy figure came into focus, he recognized the drug that you set aside. 

“You didn’t--” 

“You were right, Miggy, about the-- Mr. Sims.”  Miguel gazed at you, leafing through novels of notes with trembling hands. He cursed himself for subjecting you to seeing that. Not quite human, not quite... The twisted look on the poor man’s face. What months of research with one another had offered. He would fix it. He knew the research was on point. It was the application that was lacking.

“I have a copy of your notes,” you murmured as if someone could hear. They likely could. “¿Ay, puñeta, dónde está? Ah! Here, here it is. Your… profile.” 

“You kept it,” he glanced down at the hastily scribbled note attached to the clip. ‘Miguel’s profile’ alongside a soft pink heart. He stopped your hands from thumbing through another leaflet. His eyes traced the dry ink of the heart. His thumb moved to stroke it, catching the sight of bubbling tears welling over in your eyes out of the corner of his eye. The tears slid down your full cheeks, triggering his discomfort to well up in his stomach. Miguel shifted closer, flicking fat droplets off your slight jaw.

“Hermosa,” Miguel shifted his head, cocking his eyebrow. “¿Que te pasa?”

“I should have listened to you Miggy,” you began, inhaling air forcefully through your nostrils. Breathe, you murmured. Miguel's soft hand cupped the back of your neck like a collar. You were happy to be collared by his hand, it felt safe. 

His eyes narrowed, thumb caressing the loose strands of hair at your nape. “You should have. You know I'll take care of you."

You nodded.

"You have to be fully dedicated to me.” 

“I am.” 

“Show me.” You fluttered your eyes, the gears of your mind working to understand what he meant. His hand fell away to trace the bow of your black blouse. He tugged on the knot, slipping the bow loose and running his fingers over your exposed cleavage below. “Take off the blouse.” 

Was it necessary? Some might have said no-- but sex, in its connective nature-- was the ultimate dedication. At the end of it all, that's what he craved: your eyes, your actions, all born with him in mind. With trembling fingers, you untucked your shirt from your black slacks. Miguel sat back, tracking the soft lace of your balconette bra teasing his eye. You loitered for a minute too long, enough for him to lift his thick eyebrow.

“Don’t stop now,” he said. Your knees knocked together, slipping the shirt over and off your torso before draping it on the arm of his couch. Your bra followed quickly after, slipping out of the twisted straps. You skimmed your hands over your breasts, holding them for comfort.

"No." Miguel flicked his fingers, motioning for your hands to move from your thick nipples.  You pushed your breasts together, allowing him to marvel at them a second longer. “Que maravilla... You have no idea how long I’ve waited. Go on, take off the rest now.” 

You suckled in breath, sliding the button of your pants loose. Then the zipper, its cloth scratching your thighs on its way to pool around your ankles. You stepped out of them, joining them too with your shirt. Miguel sat up, running his calloused fingers over the side of your hip and waist. His thumbs hooked in your panties, drawing them down over your pussy, a moist spot on your panties connecting a small string of wetness to your pussy. His palm slid between your thighs, pinned by your thighs pressed together, whether out of an innate need for more pressure or shyness to show him how wet you were. Hm. Miguel melded your ass, striking your skin with his large palm, it jiggled.

“Miggy,” you breathed, shy and intimidated. “I have to tell you something…” 

“Lay down,” he told you. 

“But Miggy, what if someone…” Your eyes darted away from his, chewing on his cheek as you slid back down beside him. You settled on the couch, your legs thrown over his thighs. The couch was stiff, hard against your neck. You stole a haughty glimpse at his face, focused entirely on coursing his palms over your calves and thighs, then back down to your slight toes. He ground your feet over his stiff cock, obscured by the fabric of his slacks. He felt big-- bigger than you could have imagined from the look on your face. 

“¡Basta!” Miguel growled, “No one is going to come in. Let me see you.” 

You flushed. 

“You want me to…” you glanced down, your curls were soft to the touch. 

“Touch yourself for me.” 

With your heart strumming in your chest, you shifted your hand down, spreading your lips, soft and wet. You were so wonderfully shy to follow his orders, the pads of your fingers rubbing along your outer lips, massaging them warm and swollen. You buried your eyes into your other arm, dragging up and down, over and over. A delightful sigh greeted his ear, ensuring that though you were too embarrassed to look at him, you loved it. He allowed it for now-- because he was a gracious, forgiving man. 

“Shock,” Miguel shuffled at the button and zipper of his pants, freeing himself from his slacks. He spat into his palm, stroking over his fleshy length, squishing his cock against your foot. Your toes curled over his cockhead, engrossed in Miguel’s rumbling pants, the soft pleasure that bloomed from his chest. Your eyes trained on his lips, the slight breath suckled between his teeth. Your fingers glazed over your stiff clit, pausing as though you needed his permission, just how he wanted it. Your sweet submission. 

His eyebrow perked. “You can touch it.” 

“Oh,” you glanced down, tracing the way Miguel fisted himself, swirling up to his cockhead, along fat veins and the bubble of salty fluid on his tip. His permission seemed to spur something else in you, flicking your swollen clit to the sound of his pleasured growling, your own pleasure growing in tandem with his. 

“¡Ya!” he annunciated, watching as you failed to stop. All at once he stopped his ministrations. A sigh escaped his chest as he pushed himself up, smacking your hand away from your puffy cunt. His cock bobbed between your bodies. You wanted to touch it, but couldn’t.

"Wait," you cried out. His cock twitched as he lowered his hips down, drawing sweet lubricant on his cock, stroking your pussy. He leaned forward, capturing your mouth in a warm kiss. He dipped his hand down, his cockhead prodding and poking, dipping lower with the aid of his hand. 

“MiggyI’mavirgin,” you said all at once, his cockhead nudged against your entrance. Miguel’s head about snapped as he looked up, eyes popped wide open in disbelief. Before he could quite form a coherent thought, your hands shot out to grip his suit vest, stopping him where he was.

“¿Qué dejiste? Say that again?” 

“I haven’t… I haven't had sex,” you murmured. He hadn’t put it together. Your shyness, the awkward way you shuffled around, loosening your bra and hiding your perfect breasts from his eyes. The words were finally out in the open but didn't register.

"A..." Miguel fisted his cock, once, then twice, shifting back to kneel before you. Your eyes fell on his muscular thighs, the way his hand fisted his dick. “You’re a virgin?”

“I’m too old for this,” you mumbled, hiding your eyes with your palms. Miguel shifted to cast aside your hands from your eyes, his muscular body caging you underneath, looking for an explanation. “I just. Between school, work, I never had time.” 

Not that he was complaining.

"No boyfriend?"

You shook your head. He couldn't believe his luck. Not only were you gorgeous, but you were untouched. His, completely and fully. He liked it better that way-- to be the first memory smeared in your head. So that when you looked back on this moment, right now, it would forever be marked by his face.

"It's mine," he blurted out all at once. "I want your first to be mine."

His hand dropped down to your cunt. The pad of his middle finger worked at your entrance as though he were exploring the truth of your statement, stretching you with the aid of his fingers. You were tight, it had to be true.

You nodded, face buried deep in your arm. It didn’t take but moments for him to draw his hand back, suckling the lubricant from his fingertips. You distantly registered his words, “Damn it, you... you don't know what you do to me.” 

Before you could say a word more, Miguel positioned the head of his dick against your slippery virgin hole. You clenched, glancing down between your bodies again, as you had a dozen times, anxiously waiting. Miguel hushed you, the repetitive shushing of his lips soothing you into complacency, forcing your muscles to relax. “It might hurt. But the pain won’t last,” he assured you.

He rolled his hips forward. His sharp exhale shook with every centimeter that gave way. Your walls were forced apart, suffocating you on the shock of adjusting to having someone, no not someone, Miguel-- your Miguel, sinking into your tense body. He throbbed, twitching in your body. His hands fisted in the aged couch, catching the breath in his chest. 

“Ay, Miggy,” your nails dug into his shirt, loose around his firm muscles. “Miggy, no puedo,” 

“You can, you’re so good, eres tan buena,” Miguel swept your lips between his, taking the moment of your surprise to bury himself further, swallowed by your cunt that resisted his intrusion. Your lips fluttered in the kiss, keened out a cry. The pain of his dick, forcing its way through your passage is quelled by the knowledge that he’s here, with you, his girth forcing you apart, stretching you apart, seating himself flush against your womb. His voice was caramelized, sugared over, and so good. “Look at how well you’re taking me already.” 

“Coño, that’s a tight pussy,” He slid his hips back, the warm sensation of his withdrawal pulling free before shoving back in, a cry shoving forth from your lips, filling his office and the connected lab with your cries. He might have heard someone draw the door open, his hips driving back in, centered on the magnificent groans that stuttered free from your chest with Miguel’s careful thrusts. You keened his name, a repetitious Miggy, Miggy, Miggy-- it was Aaron, probably. He recognized the way his feet drug on the floor. 

He hoped he didn’t just hear it. He hoped he saw it too, the way his balls slapped against your ass, the mess of blood soaking the already unhygienic couch, the way his cock pulsed. You were blissed out, so full and well of him like no one else ever had-- because you were his, and his alone. It wasn’t just sex. It was more than that. From Aaron, whose shuffled steps fell out of his office, to any other little bitch in the office who had their own gain. 

“Damn,” Miguel shifted back, hooking his hand around your thigh to drag you back onto his dick. He swirled his thumb against your stiff clit, whirling it around in one circle, then another, and by the third your knees knocked together, bearing down on his cock to hold him still. “I can’t--” you stuttered out, I can’t--” 

“You’re going to,” he hissed. “You’re going to cum right here, right now, split open on my dick.” 

With another circle, you croaked an ugly cry, a terrible, ugly cry that Miguel couldn’t find any more beautiful as your body buzzed around him, tightening and squeezing your already tight cunt around him. Blissful pleasure radiated there, riding his dick for the friction against your virgin walls, your thoughts fading into a realm of insistent pleasure, where thoughts were space mush.

Miguel withstood the pressure on his cock,  clamping his hand down on your hip. His thrusts stuttered, filling your belly with whip after whip with his full hot cum. Your body twitched in the throes of his orgasm. He tracked his eyes down to your body, withdrawing with a bubbly pop of his dick from your abused hole, the intermingling of cum and virginal blood dribbling down your cheeks. 

Your gaze tracked Miguel, pressing his lips toward yours one more time. You shifted on the couch, legs pathetically tremoring. Miguel chuckled and walked toward his electric kettle, papers crunching underneath his feet, “Don’t bother moving. Not that you could, anyway.”

He warmed a warm cloth with hot water, testing its temperature on his palm before sitting beside your crumpled legs, spreading your legs to clean his mess and sooth the abrasive way he took you. He spread your lips, ensuring you were clean before he would flip the cloth, dropping it on top of your vulva. 

“You know you’re mine,” he asked, though it came out as a statement. With another cloth, Miguel cleaned his soft cock of the mess, exhaustion of the sex and what was to come returning to his gentle, deep voice. 

“Sí,” you answered. 

“And you’d do anything for me. Only me.” 

The words were laced with something more than a suggestion, but an affirmation of your loyalty. Your love. You pushed yourself up, hanging off his arm after he tucked himself into his pants. “Para siempre.” 

He leaned down, plucking the bundle with his sequenced DNA information. Your eyes coursed the information on the page, darting up to his tired eyes. You wanted to ask why or what he knew. Miguel knew it didn't matter. You were his now, from the top of your head to the bottom of your gorgeous toes. You trusted him fully. As you should. With the empty vial of Rapture sitting beside him, forgotten, he spared you a mincing smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. 

“Good. Let's fix our project.” 

[ramp-it-up]

II Most Wanted Pt. 2: Pedal so heavy 

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup" (w/ Betty Bronco)

Summary: The feelings are getting real as you make a decision about giving Jake Syverson the time of day (or night, rather) at your 20 year reunion.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, fluff. Flashbacks, horny teenagers being horny (over 18 tho). Prom night, early 2000's music, mentions of sex acts, "Captain" kink, mentions of teenage pregnancy, divorce, breakups. The Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Reckless driving?

Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N:  This is the second installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

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

May 2024

“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”

When you heard that, you went into fight or flight mode. Rage, regret, and sadness all flooded your body at once, and Sy’s eyes flicked down to your dominant hand which was curling into a fist. A wry smile started on his lips, and then he straightened up and looked you in the eye as he started to speak again.

“Butter-”

You shook your head, which silenced him. Then you raised your chin, released your fist, and turned your back, walking toward your friends.

—---

Get out (LEAVE!)

Right now

It’s the end of you and me

It’s too late (NOW!)

And I can’t wait 

For you to be gone…

Carla and Tiffani followed as you fled to the restroom.

“Why did you even tell him I liked him? I blame both of you.”

You were hurt, so you brought up a 20 year old slight and lashed out weakly at your friends. You were trying to ascribe meaning to your emotions.

How could everything still hurt this much? 

Carla wasn’t having it.

“Unh unh. No. Nope. We were sick of you running your mouth all the time about how cute he was. And Jakey boy had heart eyes for you since the day you walked into school, despite Becca the Bitch. After they broke up, we had to put you both out of your misery. It had to be done.”

Tiffani was nodding her head in agreement.

You sighed.

“‘M sorry guys,” you sat on the bathroom vanity and smiled to yourself about your Powerpuff councils in the 3rd floor Central High bathroom all those years ago. Then you grimaced when you thought of Sy.

“I just… Can’t…”

“So what just happened?”

Despite your surliness, Carla was ready to go to war for you.

“He wants me to go talk with him, ‘someplace quiet.’”

“Wow. Your air quotes are kind of aggressive.”

Sweet Tiffani was also calling you out.

“Maybe you do need to talk to him. I heard what happened, and it’s kind of a lot. A hell of a story.”

“Tiff has a point. You forbid us to say his name after you two broke up…”

You interrupted Carla.

“After he found out Becca was pregnant, you mean..”

“...That is a part of the story you need to hear. She did him dirty. They split when he finished his first tour. He asked about you, but you were already engaged to Scott…”

You’d heard that Sy enlisted instead of going to State for football like he planned when Becca fell pregnant, but the bit about the split hit you like a ton of bricks.

But why? And what did it matter now? 

“Sy spent the better part of the last 20 years in Afghanistan, and I think it’s because…But that’s not our story to tell. You really ought to talk to him.”

“I don’t have to do-”

Your voice was a little shrill and you closed your mouth when you heard yourself. You stood in the bathroom awkwardly until the familiar beginning of a song wafted into the room:

“Teen drinking is very bad.”

Carla and Tiff started screaming the next line:

“Yo, I got a fake ID tho.”

The beat dropped and they pulled you out of the bathroom onto the dance floor.

One, here comes the two to the three to the four Everybody drunk out on the dance floor Baby girl ass jiggle like she want more Like she a groupie and I aint even on tour...

…..Everybody in this bitch getting Tipsy.

This was your thot song, and after a minute of standing there, fake offended by their dancing, soon you were shaking your ass with your lifelong friends.

—-----

Sy knew how much he was trying it when he asked you to talk, but he had been waiting 20 years for this chance. 

Tonight was the night.

And he wasn’t going to let the night pass without shooting his shot. But the truth needed to be told first. He hoped that you still cared enough to let it happen.

When you stared at him blankly, he started to sweat. He knew you lived your life since then. He feared that any feelings you may have had for him were over and done with. But then he saw your hand balled into a fist, and hope entered his heart.

Sy never shrank from a fight; hell, he’d started too many, but he never wished for someone to sock him in the mouth as much as you.

He wanted to fight with you. 

And he wanted to make it up to you. 

His heart dropped when you walked away, but he decided to let it ride and give you some space. After you disappeared into the bathroom with Carla and Tiffani, Sy ventured into the venue, ready to interact with others now that he had laid down the challenge with you.

—---

You were having a ball dancing with the girls until that song came on. You stopped moving, the hair raised on the back of your neck. When you turned you found Sy staring right at you. You’d managed to ignore him the entire night, but this song and his blue eyes were wearing you down.

I'd sure hate to break down here Nothin' up ahead or in the rear view mirror Out in the middle of nowhere, knowin' I'm in trouble if these wheels stop rollin' So, God help me, keep me movin' somehow Don't let me start wishin' I was with him now

You walked toward Sy, drawn to him as if on a string. You had that feeling in the small of your back as you stood before him, the one that you hadn’t felt in ages, and suddenly everything felt inevitable.

Just like it did 20 years earlier. 

—---

May 2004

On Prom night, you came out of your bedroom and Sy’s mouth dropped open. His eyes never strayed from your face as he murmured,

“You look amazing.”

You blushed and smiled while your mom ‘awwwed’ and went to get her camera. You approached your boyfriend and he took your hand to twirl you around as he appraised the rest of you in your sleek emerald green dress. When you faced him again, he was licking his lips, trying to make the look on his face respectable. You smiled because you could read his mind.

Sy didn’t flinch as your mom called him “Jacob,” and you didn’t have it in you to be annoyed as she took a couple of pictures. Sy’s hand on your waist and his thumb gently stroking the exposed skin at the opening on the side of your dress made you shiver in anticipation.

You were caught up.

Soon, Sy was loading your bag into the back of Betty, and pulling off, your mom having accepted your explanation of staying over Tiffani’s after going bowling with the group after the prom.

In reality, a bunch of the crew were renting a huge chalet in the mountains, 45 minutes away. You and Sy had your own room, and you were ready to give him everything that night. You were distracted, imagining having your way with him that night.

And Sy was right there with you.

“Y’know, Buttercup, we can just head on up to the chalet.” 

He cut his eyes over to you to watch your reaction. When you didn’t answer and just bit your lip, that’s when he knew.

“Our suite has its own bathroom with a shower in it. We’re definitely using that this weekend. Can’t wait to see you all soapy and wet. ‘S all I could think about in the shower tonight. Almost jerked off to the image, but I decided to save it all for later…”

Sy knew you too well, and had keyed into how you responded when he talked dirty to you. He was priming the pump for later.

You pictured Sy in the shower, his lithe muscles clenched as he fisted himself, made you suddenly need a drink of water. You cleared your throat and found your voice.

“We have to go, Sy. I spent so much time getting ready. And you look so handsome in this tux….”

You skimmed your hand down his lapel, down his torso to his thigh, and you quickly ascertained his situation. He grinned at you.

“You’re right.”

Sy winked, smiled and concentrated on the road while you tried not to be a slut in the passenger seat. By the time you reached the venue, you had yourself under control. He parked, then turned toward you. 

“Let’s have a good time tonight, Buttercup. Think you can keep your hands offa me for a couple of hours?”

You scoffed, and Sy took your hand and kissed the back of it, then turned it over and kissed your palm, smoothing the joke away because in reality, It was him who couldn’t help touching you.

“Don’t want to mess up your makeup right now… might ruin it later tho.”

You whimpered in his grip as he kissed up your arm and you tucked a long errant curl behind his ear. 

Sy’s eyes went soft and he held your hands in your lap.

“Y’know, we don’t have to do anything tonight. We can dance all night if you want to. Bowl the blue balls away.”

You laughed and Sy fell in love even more. You were so beautiful.

“I love you, Buttercup, and us having sex or not won’t change that, not one bit.”

You melted as you stared at your handsome fella. He was fiddling with your hand, and then you felt something cold on your finger. You pulled your hand back and saw the delicate white gold ring with a tiny perfect diamond in the center that had been his grandmother’s.

You gasped.

“Sy!”

You looked from him to his grandmother’s ring. You’d come across it the first time you were over his house, ‘studying’ in his room on a chilly November night after football practice. You were being nosy and looking at everything you could touch as he went to get some snacks.

Sy was embarrassed when he came back and saw you with it. You thought he was mad at you for snooping, but he wasn’t. He’d told you that it was just a ‘tiny little ol’ ring, not worth anything,’ and that no one would want it, but that his Gran had left it for him to give to his future wife. 

“But, I’ll propose to someone with a bigger ring than this.”

Sy’s denim blue eyes held yours for a beat. Your heart flipped. You didn’t know why, because you’d only been talking for a couple of weeks and this was the first time you were alone together. 

You didn’t know that Sy was repeating something Becca had told him when she turned her nose up at the antique when she happened to see it, and you didn’t care as you took the black box and sat down on his bed. You stared at the ring inside like it was the crown jewels, and after about 5 minutes of studying it, you looked up at him. 

“Well. I think this ring is beautiful and precious. The detail is stunning. Your future wife would be lucky to get it.” 

That was exactly when Sy realized that he was in love with you.

Back in the Bronco outside of the prom, you were in disbelief.

“What are you doing Sy….?”

All of a sudden, you felt too young for this moment. But after only six short months together, Sy knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Calm down, Buttercup, this is just a promise ring.” 

He kissed your hand again. 

“I know we're jumpin' the gun, and we're both still young.” 

Those eyes held you in a trance.

“But one day, we won't be.”

“Oh, Sy…”

“It’s my promise to you, Buttercup. I will love you ‘til the day I die.”

And it seemed kinda crazy. But you believed him.

—-

May 2024

I made it this far without cryin' a single tear An' I'd sure hate to break down here Oh, no

It was either the music, the dancing, or the alcohol, or all three that made your mind up, but you were ready to listen to what Sy had to say. 

Stephanie Prince, the class president, was calling the Homecoming court up to the stage, and Sy looked that way. Anger bloomed again inside you.

Damnit, Sy needed to choose you this time.

“You still wanna talk, Sy?”

Your body language that screamed aggression: the cocked hip, the crossed arms that pushed up your tits, the tapping foot in those heels, all made Sy soft on the inside and hard on the outside for you. When he answered you, his voice broke. 

“Ye– yeah.”

Christ, you had him weak. But he made a decision, found his strength, and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the Marriott.

You followed him obediently, and that set him on fire. He stopped and turned around when he reached the Bronco. 

But he didn’t let go of your hand.

You two stared at each other in the late spring night air, stars winking down on you two.

“So where we goin’, Sy?”

Being this close to him again, and the feeling of his touch made all those 20 year old pheromones perk up again. Damn, this man. 

This huge, handsome, hairy man.

“Where do you wanna go, Buttercup?”

What your brain was doing was insane, so you just kept silent.

Becoming mute was one of your tells. Sy was elated that maybe you wanted him, at least physically. He was so thirsty for you.

“Hm.”

Sy grunted, straightened up, loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, all while still holding your hand. It was like he didn’t want to let you go. 

And he didn’t.

“Tell you what. Let’s take a spin in Betty. See what’s up in the ol’ town.”

Your eyes flicked toward the truck, and you knew it was dangerous.

But you were grown now. 

And so was Sy.

Sy led you around to the passenger side door to help you up into the high profile vehicle, leaning over you to buckle you in, only releasing you to put his hand on the door.

“I can’t believe you still have her,” you whispered, indicating the Bronco. “How is she still the exact same condition?”

“She’s been in storage for the better part of 20 years. Thought about her everyday though.”

Sy was looking at your lips, and the memories came flooding back.

“I bet she missed you.”

Sy cocked his head and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. His voice came out gruff and he had to clear his throat again. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, Sy.”

Any smooth line was lost as his brain short circuited with the concentration it took to not kiss you right now. 

“Well, we’re about to have some fun together again, you, me, and Betty. Sit tight, pretty lady.” 

Your cheeks heated at the compliment.

“Ok, Captain.”

Sy actually blushed, shook his head and closed the door, leaving you to breathe in the old leather smell of the Bronco with your eyes closed, conveniently leaving him to pump his fist behind the car unseen by you. 

He got back in the car, jacket off. And he leaned near you to place it on the back seat, you got a whiff of him, the familiar cologne adding another dimension to your roiling senses.

When you opened your eyes, you witnessed him rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms. He caught you ogling him and you gulped and crossed your own arms and legs, angling yourself to look out of the open window.

Sy looked over at you closing yourself off from him, then smashed the gas to make sure that you'd squeal and grab his arm like the good ol’ days as he peeled out of the parking lot, pedal so heavy like you were the two most wanted criminals in town.

—---

Hit reblog if you like it!

Next part Here

[snivyartjpeg]

Yuma Month Day 26 - Role Swap

god i was excited for this one. it first started off as a joke, but the more i thought about it, the more interesting this swap became. so here's my massive lore dump of changes that'd happen in the story beneath the cut (spoiler warning):

i think, fundamentally, yuma and yakou are very similar characters. they're both very protective and kindhearted, with a strong sense of justice and a penchant for attracting terrible luck. because of this, some things would remain the same, such as the NDA's dynamics with their doormat chief as well amnesia!yakou's massive unpaid intern energy. i think yakou would be pretty similar to how he behaved in the light novel- a bit more optimistic and naive, like yuma. but there are two key differences between them that'd make this a different story, especially in ch 4: yuma has a forte, and yakou is very selfish. so here's some changes:

yakou's wife is his shinigami now, as you can see, while shinigami is yuma's dead wife. i think mrs furio would act cooler than shinigami. she'd still be playful, but she takes her job more seriously. also she hands yakou the solution keys normally without throwing up. they still have to do the dance and mouth sword thing tho. and the other stuff. that's just death god protocol

shinigami (or in this case the unnamed Mrs. Kokohead but i will still be calling her shinigami for convenience sake) was a scientist at amaterasu who studied forensics and thanatology instead of regenerative medicine. this also means that the pill she gives zombie yuma is not going to bring him back, but instead grant the zombie homunculi a peaceful, painless, but permanent death

speaking of zombie yuma, he's the homunculus now! yakou is 100% human and also doesnt have a forte. he's still number one, but instead of having a forte he's just that good at solving mysteries

yes this means makoto looks like yakou now. sorry makotoheads. i think he'd have really long, shaggy hair dyed to be like. idk. black or something. also he's more clean shaven bc stubble with a mask on is a sensory nightmare

yuma still cant cook. he subsists entirely on takeout, meat buns, black coffee, and beer. he's still in a lot of debt and under a lot of stress and his personality is essentially "what if canon number one just gave up"

he doesn't smoke though. he tried once and got into the worst coughing fit

imma say it right now. kurumi is not a love interest. yakou likely disguises himself as a faculty member instead (also i think one of the teachers gets a crush on fem yakou bc i just know she'd be hot)

ANYWAY what about chapter 4? im SO glad you asked! because here's where things get spicy!

so, lets start with the dead wife. shinigami catches onto huesca's inhumane research and she's just as adamant about bringing the truth to light as she always is. she blows the whistle, so he blows her up. yuma investigates, but they dont let him look any further, yada yada, yuma stews in his misery for five years

yomi sends in the evidence to motivate yuma to kill huesca, and makoto lets it happen because a dead huesca would be convenient. he even introduces the hitman, fully expecting yuma to make use of him

yuma doesnt. in fact, he wants to kill huesca with his own hands. and now that these detectives are here, he can do it and even return alive. the thing is, he doesn't want to put them in danger, so he chooses to do almost everything alone (sound familiar?)

his plan is simple:

ask desuhiko for a peacekeeper uniform. desuhiko trusts him enough to take "i want to investigate kanai ward's ultimate secret by infiltrating their ranks" as an answer. he does, however, let yakou know about this as an offhand comment before the mystery ever begins

hold fubuki's hand. it doesnt really matter how. she'll gladly allow it because she's fubuki. he stores her time powers and heads out the sub. yakou also learns this as an offhand comment played off as a joke (maybe fubuki affectionately comments about how she never expected the chief's hands to be so soft... idk. there has to be some way for yakou to have this as a future clue)

use his peacekeeper status to sneak into amaterasu HQ and demand a functioning ama-pal from that one creepy researcher

use ama-pal + fubuki's borrowed powers to bypass huesca's security. sneak the bot past the hard-of-hearing doctor and press the button to shut off security

this would probably alert huesca, but since the doctor never received a warning, yuma has enough time to rush in and stab him before he realizes what's going on

leave HQ while still in uniform, dispose of the disguise once he's safe, and return to the NDA like nothing happened. success!

soooo.... yakou, on that same day, decides to investigate amaterasu HQ with makoto

all the while, vivia has his suspicions about yuma's actions and keeps an eye on him in spectral mode. he... basically witnessed the whole thing, so he gets up off his ass and decides to follow yakou to the lab because he has a Very Bad Feeling about this

just like canon, he senses the death god and deduces that our protag has been killing off murderers, and so he wants to protect his chief as well as his peace and quiet (his dynamic with yuma would be the same as his dynamic with yakou, since it's entirely believable for yuma to treat vivia with the same kindness yakou did)

yakou tries to speak to huesca, but surprise! security is disabled and he's dead in the lab! no one else at amaterasu liked huesca enough to check on him, so yakou and makoto are the first ones at the scene of the crime. yakou, of course, decides to start investigating this murder

vivia somehow sneaks into the lab (dont ask me how) and confronts yakou, threatening him with his boxcutter and adamantly imploring him to stop pursuing this particular mystery in the same way he did yuma in canon. unfortunately, this attracts attention, and now they're in trouble (maybe even yomi's there to fetch his files). at this point, yakou has enough solution keys, so he panics and goes right into the labyrinth (and maybe others can enter for another reason that isnt coalescence idk)

so... they go in the labyrinth... vivia tries to stop him every step of the way, until the answer is right in front of them

yakou kills yuma with his own hands. there's no stab wounds or toxic gas to leave any doubt. yakou begins to question what good his justice really does. it doesnt even save them from their predicament, just like the other deaths. instead, makoto ex machina comes in to save them, and hands yakou a small black box

when they return to the agency, everyone is heartbroken over their chief, who seemingly died out of nowhere. fubuki tried rewinding time, but to no avail. halara tried everything to wake him up, knowing it's futile. desuhiko stood aside, feeling completely helpless. and yakou and vivia return looking like they just came back from hell

they barely get the chance for a funeral before the knockout gas trap activates... you know the rest

AAAAND SCENE! so that's my extremely long winded lore dump about this au. i thought about it Way Too Much but god it's so interesting to me. i love these characters and swapping them was immensely fun

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Omg those protective Crosshair headcanons were 🫶🫶🫶 YES please do a part 2!! Maybe where he gets jealous because he spots his general talking to Anakin for a little TOO long. I totally see anakin catching onto it and teasing them about it tho 😭😭😭 How do you think he’d react if he also saw Regs flirting with her or making comments about her??

This was so good I had to add it to part 3 🥰

<<< Part 2 Part 4>>>

Crosshair Bodyguard Pt 3!

Crosshair felt more annoyed than usual, he would hear your laugh as you walked past him with a reg and his annoyance would turn into frustration. He was certain no joke was that funny enough to cause such a reaction or maybe his overthinking had finally made him delusional to believe he was better company.

But the sight of your happiness was worth the pain he felt, he couldn’t help but feel the way his eyes softened as they observed you from afar.

Sometimes he would use his free time to hideaway only to use his scope to see what you were up to. He was down bad with this feeling that never let him retain his peace, his whole being longed for you but this separation was for the best. For the both of you, so you can continue on to fulfill your duties while he rotted in this misery.

It was fine

It wasn’t

Did you miss him? Did you ever want him back? Was he the only one reeling so pathetically? All these questions pestering his head

Having Rex assigned to you came with benefits and nuisances. The benefit being Rex was more than what you could ask for and the nuisance being another General hovering around you making small talk. Why Anakin was so persistent you couldn’t understand.

Managing all this was thousands time more difficult when you knew Crosshair was around. The Regs would tease you and Anakin would put his arm over your shoulders or hold you close which made Crosshair miss his shot while training or be distracted that Hunter had chided him over it.

It only made you feel worser than what you felt. Maybe he hated the very sight of you. That he couldn’t stand you.

He hated they could be close to you. Hated the fact that he was barred from the one thing that he wanted. He still felt the way your slender fingers fit his palms effortlessly or the way your robe would at times drape over his knee as you walked past. This distance was ruining him.

That’s when he heard it, when the cackle of laughter died down, the sound of a blaster shot and you clutching the side of your arm.

“Watch it.”, Anakin chided a cadet whose blaster had gone off by accident but you felt your skin twinge with the sting of a burn.

Crosshair saw red, his feet carried him off before he could hold himself back. He had yanked the blaster from the younger soldier’s hands. “This isn’t a toy, kid.”, he seethed as he flipped the safety switch on. You had never heard him be this angry before.

“You.”, he turned to Anakin. “What General are you if you cannot protect those around you?”, Crosshair stood face to face with him as everyone grew silent. Your heart beating fast in your chest. A clone turning against a Jedi, this would be punishable.

“Anakin.”, you called for him to know if you could speak on Crosshair’s behalf but his focus would not turn away from your sniper as a sly smirk spread across his face when his eyes landed on you. As though, he had run a test and the results had turned favourable.

You observed your sharpshooter who stood with his gaze fixed on Anakin and the other regs as he opened and closed his fingers.

He had broken enough rules today, feeding into his desires to reach out and inspect the wound on your arm or touch you felt like the final deed he will need to commit to be banished from this place.

He could not have that happening to him. He cannot exist elsewhere on a different plant or universe if it didn’t have you in it.

But before he turned away he heard the Jedi instruct him. “Then I suggest you take her to the medic seeing how disturbed you are by her being hurt. It might ease your mind.”, Anakin chirped but you knew there was a hidden ploy to this.

With the entire crowd’s attention on you, there was no getting out of this, Crosshair froze the moment you took a step towards him and you were sure there were other wounds that were in need of healing

Part 4? @ladyanidala @crosshairscyarika @haybellewrites

[wolfofcelestia]

I've been craving for Dawnbreaker lately. Given how protective (& prolly spoil mc to rotten) just imagine if he got mc pregnant. jesus the endless headcanon in my mind is overflowing 💀

If Dawnbreaker ever found his MC, I feel like he'd probably be protective of her to the point of keeping her inside 24/7 and stopping his "hunts" all together. Because once he has her, his whole objective in life would switch from saving the world and putting random people out of their misery, to protecting her and her alone

So I think if she got pregnant, he'd be even more adamant/desperate/obsessive about keeping her inside (yandere potential?). The world outside is so dangerous that no one really goes out anymore so he'd worry himself sick just thinking about her going out where she could get attacked

I think he'd actually be against having a baby with MC because it would be really hard to get medical care in his world. And from all the doctor tv shows he's binged, he's seen all the drama that could happen with complications

I can picture him being just an anxious mess for the whole 9 months if she ever got pregnant... maybe by accident? And he would probably try to find some way for Doctor Zayne to take over his body to deliver the baby. And if he can't, he'd probably try to use the techniques he saw in his shows and be a COMPLETE WRECK the entire time

But imagine him finally finding his own MC and still realizing that the doctor in his dreams is still someone he can never live up to

Here he finally is with the love of his life, pregnant with his child, happier than he ever was in his entire life...

And he's still desperately hoping that he can be even a fraction of Doctor Zayne in order to save their child and also make sure MC doesn't die right in front of him in such a traumatic way

Side note tho, if MC did somehow convince Dawnbreaker to have a kid with her and if they did have access to medical care, I feel like Dawnbreaker would actually try to eat healthier. That is, he'd try to eat actual food lmao

He'd do his best to find fresh produce for MC and himself to eat to ensure their baby would be healthy pre-conception, but he would give most of the food to her. He'd tell her something like.... he’s survived on nutrient drinks for so long that food doesn't appeal to him anymore, but MC would still try to feed him

And I feel like, MC giving him just... the smallest shreds of affection would make Dawnbreaker burst into tears because of how touched he is and how unused to affection he is

Whether or not they have a child together, if Dawnbreaker ever found his MC, he'd be the happiest man in the world

He'd be the happiest Zayne in all the worlds

[viennacherries]

Oh oh, I have- well, not really a request, more so a prompt if it strikes any inspiration! No pressure!

I'm a sucker for wizards, so it should come as no surprise that I adore Rolan and Gale. My first Tav was also a wizard, big surprise. I love the scene in the game where Gale teaches you magic and if you're a wizard you can basically be a show off. But- imagine Rolan being ever so kind and offering to give you a quick lesson. The catch is, he doesn't know you're a wizard for some reason... so he's really showing off and making a big deal about the movements and pronunciation for the spell, and at first you're playing dumb. "Oh, like this?" *does everything wrong*.

Rolan walks you through the steps again, and this time you are like "oh, I see! Like this?" and proceed to do the spell perfectly AND with a little bit of flare. Rolan wants to curse because how the hell did you catch on so quick!!! Whether or not you reveal you're a wizard, I'll leave up to your imagination. 😂

I just finished Kiss The Cook and oh my lord I was GIDDY upon realizing Rolan was gonna propose. I yelled so loudly. 10/10. I loved it.

sorry for taking a while with this one! wanted to wait until i was properly inspired so i could do it justice cos i think it's so funny and cute. so much room for shenanigans.

i might continue this one and turn it into something multi-chaptered if people like it? maybe some freaking wizard on wizard smut later on? 👀

for now tho it's just cute and wholesome, i had a lot of fun with this. enjoy!!

SFW

read it on ao3 here

~~~

"Like this?"

Bless him. Rolan is trying to be patient but you can see the mounting frustration on his face every time you mess up a movement.

"Not quite. That one was close, though. It's more like this."

He turns to face you, brings his hands up and around in elegant, practiced arcs before clasping them together and forcing them outwards towards you. A brilliant burst of purple light flows forward, soft around the edges and pulsating with weave. You can feel it emanate from it, calling to you.

You're not quite sure how Rolan managed to never learn that you're a wizard, though you suppose the only times he really saw you fight were when you were defending him in the shadow-cursed lands and when you defeated Lorroakan. Admittedly, he had other things on his mind. He probably just wasn't paying attention.

Regardless, now you're standing in a large open room underneath the Sundries, where Rolan is insisting on teaching you magic. You're not blind; you know he's doing it because he has feelings for you. You would have put him out of his misery and told him you have feelings for him too, but it's rather cute when he tries to impress you.

Like now, for instance.

Every demonstration is slightly exaggerated. His posture is tighter and more disciplined than is strictly necessary, and with every somatic shape he creates he adds enticing flourishes, his fingers curling and pointing invitingly. He's putting on a lovely show for you.

Which is why you'd decided to just... Go along with it.

Is it very polite? Absolutely not. Is he going to be incredibly embarrassed when he realises the truth? Absolutely. But how are you supposed to resist when he looks so delicious like this? His tongue flicks out to brush over his lips to wet them every time he utters the incantation in demonstration, and a few stray strands of hair twist and curl in the air from the weight of the weave in the atmosphere. He looks regal, practicing his craft. Your shared craft.

You swore off dating other wizards when you were at university. Men were insufferable at the best of times, let alone wizard men who thought they were Mystra's gift to spellcraft. You'd made a promise to yourself, after one unsuccessful date of many, with a man who started trying to explain how cantrips worked to you, that you would only date non magic-users.

Gale had been quite disappointed to find that out, bless his heart.

But Rolan. There's just something about him, which is weird.

It's mostly weird because when you met him you absolutely despised him. He demonstrated all of the worst qualities you'd come to expect from your peers during your education; arrogance, self-importance, pride, vanity, etcetera, etcetera. You distinctly remember sharing a look with Karlach as you walked away from him and his siblings, both of you pulling a face of utter disdain.

He'd changed though, over the course of the journey. After his siblings being kidnapped, his apprenticeship souring, he'd become incredibly grounded. Besides, his arrogance actually wasn't completely misplaced. He's incredibly gifted with his manipulation of the weave. Not that you'd ever tell him that.

In the aftermath of the Absolute's invasion you've spent a lot of time with him, and you've decided he looks rather beautiful when he casts. His brow furrows in concentration and his eyes gleam with a determination that's easy to get caught up in.

And his hands. You stare at his hands a lot.

"Do you want to try again, or are you just planning on standing there all day?"

His words bring you back to the present. Ah, yes. Magic lesson.

It's probably time to end the charade, really. You definitely can't keep this up forever. It's actually rather difficult to keep doing spells wrong when you've been trained so thoroughly on how to do them right.

By the Gods, though, you're going to have some fun with it. You took a couple of acting classes in your second year, at a local bard college, so you're determined to sell it.

You make a big show of taking a deep breath in, shaking your hands out as if you're trying to dispel nervous energy. Rolling your neck around it makes a large crack, and you lace your fingers together and stretch your arms out in front of you to crunch your knuckles. He watches you eagerly, ready to appraise your efforts, and you can't help the upward tick at the corner of your mouth.

The movements are second nature, really. You twirl your hands into elegant shapes as you raise your arms, and twist them around you in a circular motion; a grand emulation of Rolan's earlier demonstration. As you surge your hands forwards, a bright burst of light surges forwards, bathing the pair of you in a velour glow.

Rolan's face is absolutely priceless. You have to physically swallow down the laugh that threatens to bubble up within you.

"... Like that?" The mirth in your voice, however, is more difficult to disguise.

Rolan just stands, staring at you. His mouth is agape, and he's gradually turning a rather beckoning shade of crimson. The laugh you've been holding back bubbles out of you, and you fold over yourself and brace your hands on your knees as you cackle.

"I... You..." His difficulty forming his words only makes it more entertaining, and you clutch at your stomach as the hilarity of the situation rolls over you. You manage to steel your breathing and calm your laughter, and glance back up at him, but he's still got that incredulous look on his face with his mouth hung open, and it sends you back into hysterics.

"You... You're a wizard?! Why did... Why didn't you..." He trips over every half-thought word, trying to come to terms with the fact that he's been completely blindsided and utterly bamboozled. You calm your laughter and straighten up, a light chuckle spilling from you.

"Yes, Rolan, I'm a wizard. I'm sorry for teasing, I just couldn't resist."

His face is so red he could be mistaken for a gith's dragon.

"I don't... How did I not..." He evidently is still struggling with stringing coherent thoughts together, but you know what he's trying to say. You shrug in response, a smile plastered on your face.

"I don't know, to be honest. I killed at least two of the shadow-creatures that were after you with Magic Missile, and I don't think I could survive without Mage Hands. I'm too short to reach any of the shelves in the library."

"Well." He huffs. "... I could get you a step-stool, if you like."

You can't help throwing your head back at that and laughing openly, "it's fine, really. I manage just fine."

"Why didn't you tell me? I've been stood here like an imbicile, making a big glim show trying to-" He cuts himself off, and the flush that had just began to subside comes back in full force. "I mean- I was-"

"Trying to impress me?" You can't be blamed for teasing him more, surely? When he looks so utterly delectable with that blush over his cheeks? "Don't worry, sweetheart," you drawl out the syllables of the pet name and throw him a wink, "consider me impressed."

As you turn to leave you hear the way his breath catches as he breaths in, and he chokes and splutters on the air. You barely contain your laugh as you begin ascending the stairs back to the main hallway.

Rolan stands behind you, staring at your back as you depart; face burning and tail flicking in wild arcs behind him.

[formulawonu]

Your writing is amazing 💓 Can I request a SVT reacts to their s/o pranking them by avoiding their kisses.

seventeen & pranks

a/n: thank youuuu so much this means a lot <3 and happy birthday minghaoooo!!! 🎂

seungcheol: the moment u swerve when he leans in to give u a kiss he kinda laughs but when u keep doing it he's like ???? he knows nothing wrong has happened but he's thinking anyway... but when u forget ur doing it and try to give him a kiss hes so sulky and moves away from ur kisses. he uno-reverse carded u

jeonghan: ohhh so u wanna play that game. jeonghan picks up on it the moment u swerve once and he doesn't try again. ur playing a game on ur own idk what to say u cant beat him at any mind games ://

joshua: shua laughs his frustated laugh™️ (the one where his eyes get wider and hes 'laughing') around the fourth or fifth time u avoid his kiss. "baby come on" tries to kiss u again to no success. he huffs a lil and goes "fine" he then pouts a lil and OBVIOUSLY u better kiss him now >:( he smiles immediately when u give him a kiss on the cheek im gonna cry

junhui: unlike those that get sulky he finds it exciting and takes it as a challenge. he traps u wherever u are and starts peppering ur entire face w kisses. oh u dont want just ONE kiss? take ten. fight him fr fr

hoshi: "BABY WHY" "PLEASE !! JUST !! LET !! ME !! KISS !! YOU !!" u dont know it but he always needs to kiss u before u/he leave the house bec its his good luck charm or weird custom that he believes keeps u both safe :/ he probably knows its a prank or whateva but hes just so devastated. just let him kiss u honestly it means more to him than u at the moment:/

wonwoo: heeee notices but doesnt say anything lmao hes just like hmmm ok. cmon wonwoo give us nothing!!! but i think he just doesn't react that much because he doesn't try to read into it since u both are generally at a good place and he doesnt need to worry sdjhfgs he probably also can tell ur playing a prank on him -_- but will play along just to see u smile and have fun:/ SICK

woozi: has no time for ur games MOVE he's got enough on his plate😪 will maybe attempt to kiss u ONE more time but if u move away he'll just shrug then go on with his day. its kinda eating at him tho bec ????? damn now u messed w his productivity. pls just put him out of misery and tell him u were playing a prank. he will scoff at u but feel better when u say sorry lmfao

minghao: he knows abt this prank before u even try hskjdfghsdf the moment u dodge his kiss he's like ayeeeee okkkkk i see u then suddenly its both of u fighting to land kisses on each other and trying to dodge the other skdfjhaefkh would be so funny. u both r giggling messes

mingyu: BECAUSE HE KNOWS UR PLAYING A GAME AND HE TRAPS U IN BETWEEN HIS ARMS PINS U AGAINST A WALL AND ITS OVER. "whats this all about?" even u forget ur playing a game and u try to lean in for a kiss and u can just hear him silently laughing and whispering "cute" under his breath. he plants a quick kiss on u and lets u get on with ur day. ur on the losing end of the stick here idk what to say

seokmin: dont even start😭 he's overthinking the moment u avoid his kiss the first time. doesn't attempt again because he thinks he's genuinely done something wrong and u don't wanna be near him. will visibly and obviously give u space the rest of the day until u cave (right away???? pls???) and tell him its just a prank kfdjhs dont stress him out

seungkwan: "ok got it" the moment u dodge his kiss. do not try to outplay the king of petty. will ask u just one time why ur avoiding his kisses. if u say u just don't want it anymore he's like hm ok. none for the rest of the week then <3 the ball is in ur court now u can make it up to him or not uksdfjhfj

vernon: does not even realize u avoided his kiss or he thinks u just didn't notice he leaned in to give u one. he's a simple man and ur relationship dynamic is probably a pretty straightforward one. thinks if u were mad enough at him to purposely avoid his kisses then u would probably just tell him why first sjhdfksd

dino: he's following u around asking u why u dont wanna kiss him fghsdfh "is it my breath" "i just brushed my teeth" "ill brush again ?" he may or may not actually go and brush his teeth. kdfgrf i just think it would be so funny to play this game w him. he sees u find it amusing so he knows nothing is probably wrong but he's still running thru whatever might have u doing this. would be bothering u until u let him kiss u. just do it

[happyk44]

I was thinking about BPD Percy and splitting in BPD and I think w/ Sally, Grover, and Carter his splits are very internalized at himself - which, as I've looked into it, is pretty common in quiet BPD. With other close friends, splitting will still be internalized but focused on other ppl rather than himself

In the fic I wanna write, he has split on Annabeth after the events of HoH because her reaction to the Misery thing distresses him, but he's not fully aware that he's split on her so he just feels like something has changed about her and is aware that he's become pulled back from her but struggling with the idea of trying to stop because there's smth there stopping him (the split, Annabeth is no longer Good) that he can feel but can't tell what it is (distrust of her in general, anxiety about being himself/vulnerable around her, anger because he (subconsciously) thinks she reacted the wrong way during the Misery event, etc).

The fic takes place a year or so after the events of BoO but he still hasn't fully switched back with her and it's confusing to him because he's aware that she's not different, but smth has v clearly changed in her and he can't figure it out (it's not her, it's his perception of her)

Sally, Grover, and Carter are part of the flawless group so any splits relating to them become internal attacks on Percy - rather than viewing them as Bad in the black and white thinking, he views himself as Bad and Unworthy, like if Grover blows him off or has to ditch him because of whatever, rather than get irrationally angry at Grover, he gets irrationally angry at himself.

I think this fits canon pretty well because we know Percy's perception of Sally is basically holy worship, and I don't recall him ever getting angry at Grover, maybe frustrated at his timidness but still wildly protective of him. As for Carter, I just think that Percy has put Carter on a pedestal (unrelated to his crush on him) because he sees Carter as a much more capable and better version of himself (both forced into leadership positions, both handled a godly war, etc), so he can't get mad at Carter bc Carter, like the other two, is perfect, even with the flaws that Percy might notice. If anything those flaws make them even more perfect.

I think w/ Nico, it's a combination of getting irrationally angry at himself (because he's meant to protect Nico) and getting irrationally angry at Nico (because Nico's a little shit), although personally I don't know if Nico is someone Percy would split on. I think Nico is someone he is able to consistently view in the gray area, so even when his brain splits to black and white thinking, he still sees Nico in shades of gray.

In my daughters of Neptune AU, I think he splits on Coral both outwardly and inwardly, even tho she's within the middle circle ring. Like I kind of see it as:

Inner ring of friendship, people he would sacrifice himself for with zero hesitation: Flawless group of Sally, Grover, and Carter - splits into himself when perceiving something negative occurring because of them, incapable of seeing them as Bad in the black and white; Nico - no/minimal splitting, permanent gray area resident; Annabeth - splits inwardly at her, when he does she may slip into the middle ring until he gets back into the Good/gray area w/ her, attempts to retreat from her, gets easily frustrated with her and will express it, esp when she refuses to let him isolate away from her, but generally holds his tongue on everything else he feels and doesn't display his anger as strongly as he feels it on the inside, will vent w/ Grover if frustrated enough (cue Percy going from "Annabeth is the most annoying person in the world and if she talks about architecture one more time I'm gonna lose it" to "Annabeth is so great! I love listening to her talk about buildings and the historical influences behind their construction design" and Grover sitting there like "Percy yesterday you hated her" "okay, so? That was yesterday's Percy, he was in a bad mood, don't worry about it")

(also in this fic I'm tryna write, the split has lasted longer than normal, which is one of the reasons he's confused bc usually it's like "yeah I get annoyed w/ Annabeth sometimes, but usually its fine after a while, so I don't get why being around her now makes me wanna move somewhere she can't find me")

Middle ring of friends, people he likes and regularly interacts/seeks out interactions with: Estelle, Hazel, and Frank - splits inwardly at them, outwardly presenting a calm persona but inwardly holding back negative emotions, usually chooses to minimize/pull back on interactions until things shift back to the Good/gray

Outer ring of friendship, people he's on good terms w/ and will happily socialize with usually: Thalia, Jason, Leo, Piper, and other friends - typically splits outwardly, becomes obviously agitated and angry, may attempt to pick or goad them into a fight; Paul - usually splits inwardly at Paul, because of Paul's connection to Sally and his hatred of ever upsetting his mom, may split outwardly at him under specific circumstances, like if Paul accidentally burnt Sally when pouring her tea or smth

Anyway thoughts? Also, side note, I'm trying to write a thing about the whole collection of PDs, analyzing them from a "how does childhood trauma lead to these developing" because I think that will help in understanding them and also in writing characters w/ them. PPD, SZPD, and HPD are the most obvious to me, lol, so the other ones are either difficult for me to word in a way that makes sense or are a little like pulling teeth in understanding, but hopefully I'll be able to get them all down, because I'd like to verbalize my thoughts and also if I get them down maybe my brain will shut up 😂

[myon-94]

Hmm, back at you! I knew you liked Ray with Dimitri and I now know you don't like Niko with Packie (awesome, hehe), but are they actually the best and least?

Omg an ask what am I to do? Answer it of course this my one chance to talk abt gta ships without wanting to kms

Well if we're talking about non rarepairs and ships that actually have SOME ground in game then I must say Brucie and Roman might just be the best, their dynamic just works so well! In the sweet bellic (I think that's what it's called but it's the one where niko goes to kill that French Tom guy) the preferences written by Roman in niko's bio just seem to reflect Brucie a little too much and also Brucie did mention that "if he were queer" Roman would be in danger eheheh.

As for the least favorite, and I'm sorry everyone and especially to my 2019 baby gta stan self..it's gotta be dimitri and mikhail.

I know I know doomed old man yaoi is too good to pass but. I liked it a little when I first started getting into gta but as time passed I just found myself disliking it more and more.. Aside from the fact that mikhail is a married man with a grown daughter and cheating is a big no in my book, I just find their dynamic more and more toxic. Though that's normally not a big problem for me (I love misery) I think this time not only were they aggressive towards each other but I can't see a hint of romance in their interactions.

I see mikhail and dimitri as two people who were once friends- brothers even, who went through highs and lows together, who witnessed the death of their nation and tried to live in what was once their glorious union while still looking out for one another, and who immigrated to a far, foreign hostile country (most likely) without a penny to their name, and who were slowly and inevitably drifting apart..because nothing lasts forever.

It could've been the money and power, it could've been the painkillers and the coke, it could've been the fact that they were thousands of miles away from home and are still, even after a decade, in a foreign land they can't quite get used to.

Neither of them wanted to let go of the other. They could only trust each other. They were the only hint left of their old lives that neither wanted to forget. But everything was just..too much I guess? This couldn't keep on, and I believe it was dimitri who let go first.

I believe that by the time niko meets mikhail and dimitri the latter has already made up his mind about mikhail. What started as just boredom and annoyance of mikhail and his antics slowly manifesting into hate as his behavior started putting everyone in danger. I even think dimtri lied about the whole petrovic situation just to get an excuse to get rid of mikhail. And mikhail, well he didn't appreciate his friends distance in the slightest. But instead of thinking "maybe this is my fault" he just started to blame everyone and everything but himself, refusing to belive that he and only he was the reason his friend no longer liked him as much..and to cope he just undermines and makes fun of and blames dimitri any chance he can get; calling him paranoid, he blames him for the Lenny situation (though as I said I believe the whole fiasco was a lie) and in a deleted phone call he even accuses dimitri of sleeping with ilyena- the wife he cheats on every day. And to whom he complains? To the Serbian mercenary that knows nothing about any of them of course!

I especially find the moment where he says to niko "Dimitri would've been some prison meat if not for me" incredibly low because..you don't just say such a thing. It's cruel and it's disgusting and serves no purpose other than make dimitri look small in the eyes of others. I find his end quite fitting, rare niko W.

I do think they fucked once or twice tho :3 but they most certainly aren't in love.

BUT if we ARE talking about rarepairs then ohh boy...nothing beats dimitri and boccino. They're like. the ship ever. Still my proudest moment when I thought of these two together one Monday night 😮‍💨✨️ I rambled WAY too much abt mikhail and dimitri I know no one will read this if I talk abt ray and dimitri.

And least favorite rarepair..well there aren't many cuz yk they're rare. But I think Niko and Derrick for no other reason than because they always kill off my babygirls francis and boccino and talk shit about them for the rest of the fic. #Fuck Derrick I hate this lying drug addict rat.

[triplexdoublex]

technically yes nobody can save you but I agree that hearing your fav saying that they’ve been through the same stuff that u have is very comforting especially when dealing with mental illness cause it can be a very isolating experience. But it is your choice and decision to get better, your fav person can show u that they also went to therapy and how it has helped them and that can influence you to go and try it out but that’s still up to u. With Kells I think he’s struggling a lot even if he tries not to show it to not worry us that much, and from what I’ve seen I don’t think he feels deserving of our love and devotion to him or that his mind wants to believe that we will turn on him and he’ll end up alone as he was most of his life. The line “who am I when the music stops” imo kind of shows that he’s scared all the love and support will leave when he’s not singing no more, and that maybe everyone who hated will come out in support of him only when he’s dead, cause that’s what’s happened to a lot of artists who have passed (like he mentioned in his line “thinkin maybe the hate’ll finally go away if I’m not alive”). He definitely knows we love him through the support we give him on music and project but I think he’s scared to even through music really be honest with us cause he’ll be scrutinised for it. He’s got so many eyes on him now and I think he’s scared to lose the fame and publicity he so badly wanted for so long. I believe with “don’t let me go” he even said that it was a song he usually wouldn’t put out if he had more time to sit on it or something. and I think that’s why he’s also holding onto Megan. She helped him get the fame he worked so hard for years to get, he finally got the recognition that he so badly fought for and I think if he loses her he's afraid he’ll also lose that part of fame and the awards and such, not saying he didn’t get awards before Megan but she definitely helped him get to another level of fame and publicity. And I think if he loses Megan he’ll be made fun of in the media. At the start everyone was so out of their minds on how a guy like him could get the world loved hottie Megan Fox and if it comes out saying that they aren’t together anymore, even tho all the people who saw the relationship as toxic or weird will be happy, he’ll still be laughed at for managing to lose the “most beautiful women”. Like they made fun of him after the em disses, he’ll also be made fun of if he loses Megan.

TW// Suicide ideation

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Yes technically you’re saving yourself by making the decisions needed to better your mental health but sometimes you need that spark of hope to get you started and kells is that spark for a lot of people. I’ve had many sparks along my mental health journey one of them actually being song lyrics from the song “Self Conclusion” by The Spill Canvas. I was driving home from work thinking about ending it all, I already knew how I was gonna do it — I had recently had my wisdom teeth removed and this was back when they would give you prescription pain meds for literally anything (which is how how the opioid crisis started) They gave me Percocet even though I said that I didn’t want them because I was afraid of getting addicted (addiction runs in my family) He insisted I would NEED them. But I didn’t they sat in my cabinet full and unused, and I was planning to take the bottle. I had just pulled into my driveway when the song started playing , a song I’d heard a million times before but the lyrics “we all flirt with the tiniest notion of self conclusion in one simplified motion, the trick is your never supposed to act on it, no matter how unbearable this misery gets” hit different in that moment and felt like a sign to me to stay and get help. I sat in the car and sobbed for what felt like fovever , then went inside and got rid of the pills. And did start therapy shortly after. Yearsss later when I met the lead singer I thanked him for SAVING me! Of course I was the one who decided not to go through with it and to start going to therapy , but what if I never heard that song at the exact moment I needed it , would I even be here having this conversation… there’s a good chance I wouldn’t. So yes I believe I was saved by their music!

Kells definitely gets a lot underserved hate , he has shared many times that he worries about not being appreciated until his dead. Another lyric that comes to mind is “everybody hates, but can anybody love me, guess they’ll wait until my face is on the mural” i think he finally did get a little taste of being taken more seriously when Tickets to my downfall and Mainstream sellout both went number one and her acquired a bunch of new fans . But it must be so hard to know that pretty much everyone outside of the fanbase hates him.

I don’t believe Megan helped kells to rise to fame , if anything he boosted her non existent acting career ( when was the last time you heard about Megan Fox before they got together … maybe 2007ish ) Kells gained more fame for revitalizing the pop-punk scene, but I do agree that he will be dragged for ‘loosing Megan’ I’ve already seen evidence of it in social media comments

[straycalamities]

Oh my okay I've got several... no I've got plenty of questions abt Truffula Flu lol

So... I'll ask all I remembered I wanted to ask, I hope it won't be too much..

1. Why guns aren't allowed in camp Entre? Maybe I skipped few posts, but I didn't see explanation for this one

2. About zombie mutations. Is they're really become stronger or is it just Rocky and Entre become weaker cuz of their illnesses?

3. Swags mod said that Swag would probably leave camp and die somewhere in quite place, while trying to survive. Why would he leave people that he cares about? Im a little bit dumb and don't exactly understand his planned ending 8(

4. There was a moment when One-ler tried to convince Bitter to put him out of his misery, but he escaped that. And I was curious, if he actually killed him then, would Entre blame himself for that? And if so, would it be worse then he blamed himself when he killed Bitter by his own hands?

5. After Rockys planned death, would Swag blame Entre for this? I mean, emotionally shocked, blame him again about this apocalypse stuff, that Rocky wouldn't die if he wasn't infected and etc.

I hope I made myself clear cuz I dunno how to put some questions ughh😭😭

And again Im sorry if its too much questions!

PHEW THAT IS A CHUNKY LIST. i love it

1. guns are loud and the infected are drawn to loud noises so if you shot a gun you’d be ringing the dinner bell basically. i feel like maybe we touched on it directly? but if i’m wrong it’s probably bc it’s a common thing brought up in zombie apocalypse stories so we might’ve assumed ppl just Knew why none of them used or wanted to use a gun

2. they do become stronger! i actually have a whole list of mutations (and more can be added as ppl come up with them! it’s open lore basically)

i made a whole google doc explaining the actual truffula flu and the symptoms, risks, etc (content warning for if you’re sensitive to medical discussion?? i don’t know how to word it but i wrote it like ur typical online disease info page. also content warning for zombies bc. it’s entirely abt zombification.)

rocky and entre being weakened definitely didn’t help their situation but yes. it’s mainly bc the spiky zombie is faster and stronger than ur typical sort

3. this is kinda hard for me to answer bc i’m not the one who originally wrote it. i don’t rly know why it was planned for it to go like that. i guess out of irony? i know the original plan was for swag to be the sole survivor at the end, but that kinda clashed w other plans so it was changed. so maybe this was the compromise to that

i will say tho that. things had been discussed since that post was made and his story goes differently than was broadcasted. howso? you’ll just have to see :)

4. yes, entre still would’ve blamed himself because ultimately: this is all his fault. regardless of who dies how or where. they wouldn’t be in that situation if it weren’t for him. especially if it’s connected directly with the infection. especially if it’s right in front of him where he can’t ignore it

he wouldn’t have been AS devastated by bitters death if he weren’t the one that had to kill him tho, because the thing is: that was the first time entre had directly killed someone who was still “alive” (unless i’m forgetting some obscure shit i did or said idk it’s been over a decade) and not only that, it was someone who was still his friend despite what he’d done? and even more layers: he had worked so hard to get bitter to come out of his shell prior to the infection and actually be his friend and then this happens. and he has to be the one to end it. bc he was pressured into it

so honestly entres descent into immense self-loathing and all that would have been Very different from how we saw it if someone else had taken care of bitter

5. nah i don’t think swag would’ve like actively started pointing fingers at entre again at that point. like deep deep down swag can’t ignore that this IS entre’s fault and this WOULDNT have happened if not for his mistake, but…swag realizes in the story that it’s not gonna get them anywhere if he keeps holding on so hard to those facts. like if he keeps berating and belittling entre as payback for everything what’s actually gonna get better for that? nothing. all it does is give him temporary catharsis and even that gets cheaper and lasts less time every time he does it

entre wants to fix things so earnestly and tries and swag sees that and wants to help because obviously he also would like this to be undone or at least, cured. and they can’t help each other if they’re at odds. and so even if it’s really hard on him to lose rocky like that, i think at that point it’s just chalked up to “this bitch of a situation” and not “entre did this”

not forgetting the fact that at that point, entre is going to mean a LOT to him because of how their relationship has deepened. so he’s not gonna turn on one of the only ppl he has left

thank you for the questions!! 😊

[stevie-petey]

Maybe vecna will take pity? 😭Like man it just feels like a low blow to go after bug, it's too easy. She has SO many issues. Buttttt if we did, then I'd imagine at first it's just and empty house. Then it's her childhood house and her parents are fighting. Then baby Dustin makes an appearance. Then as it progresses it's Jonathan, Nancy and Steve.

I think I'd still make max the " final sacrifice" just because it'd add onto bugs guilt. Like this kid is suffering because of me, it should've been me. But I can't see bug letting that happen. She'd never let max be put in that position. It would have to be like vecna actively going after max, or he'd trick the group somehow like make it seem like he's going after bug just to get the defense around max down.

Maybe there'd be a scene where Nancy actually saw into the vecna victims mind, like what they were seeing. Vecna makes it seem like he's putting those kids out of their misery.

Or he'd do it to make Nancy feel guilty. She already kinda feels guilty for getting in between Jonathan and bug. Vecna's like, look at this sweet kid, see how they suffered, then you take their only friend and first love, oh Nancy how could you. He'd use that to weaken her mind and then he'd show her his plans.

Lets be real here, vecna would think bugs stupid. He doesn't understand why someone gives out such unconditional love so freely just to get hurt in the end. He'd see killing her as a mercy and not a murder.

oooooh dragging nancy into it ,,, evil and BRILLIANT !!! and if i was creative and brave enough id have bugs kindness be her greatest weapon against vecna BECAUSE he'd underestimate her and she'd use it against him but alas the thought of season 5 being a complete curveball i cannot

and yeah bug would 1000% NOT leave max behind in that episode. she wouldve stayed right by her side (but steve ,,, idk) it wouldve been very hard for her so i'll need to think of a good reason for her not to have been there tbh

bug getting possessed tho would be such a fun way to finally show yall how angry she really is and the strength it took her to become so kind. shes the quote "no one will know how much violence it took to become so gentle" :(

[risu5waffles]

Sombre and sTENtorious Came the Call

Welp, maybe our last go around for one of these, so let's do it right.

Cute enough early effort from brett169. It's got all those early LBP hallmarks, but you can see the creator is stretching to do something big wiv it. There are a lot of little secrets and scorebubble caches, and i do always love to see those. Unfortunately, it's ultimately broken in LBP3. i don't know quite what it is, but Collected Object enemies from LBP1 are never treated well in 3, and even before we get to the one blocking our path, we pass by enemies that look like they've shaken themselves apart before we got there. It's not even something wonky about being in a community level, like the creators have mucked wiv the objects or something; the Redcoat enemies in the PotC DLC get up to some really weird shenanigans. Come to think of it, if i'm remembering right there's a set of chattery teeth in the DC DLC that's bugged in a way that'll keep you from getting 100% prizes there.

This one was sure a little bit of a lot and no lie. Edgy little murder/mayhem platformer, but at least is its own thing, and not another Friday the 13th knockoff. i'd be lying if i said the level was all that good, but it has its moments. The paintball rain was a fun, old-school effect; and it was kind of... cute's not the word, but the way you can choose to put that guy out of his misery (and get a prize!) or torture him more was definitely something. The whole level is definitely something for sure.

Oh my gosh, this level. This level here? This was so freaking cool it's actually kind of silly. chronos had mentioned on stream that the rotating level thing was a bit of a trend in LBP1 for a hot minute, but i don't remember playing any that committed to the bit as hard as this one. You've got mazes. You've got traps. There are all sorts of mechanisms to help you navigate. There's that neat little contraption you ride, when you grab it, it puts out bumpers to stay in place so you can control when you fall? And all that's before you get to the surface of the planet, all the buildings up there, and you parkour(ish) to get up to the Moon, and ride a shooting star to the scoreboard? Like, what the actual fuck, tho'? How do you make something that goes this damn hard and is this damn cool?

We talked about this one a lot last time, and i don't know that i have more in the tank for it now, but i still think it's really good, even for its flaws.

We talked about this one a few weeks back, when we covered Librarian's Mansion 2, and it's still as charming as it was then. i really, really wish i'd had the chance to play through some of the levels introduced here, i imagine they were pretty fun. i got the chance to talk a bit wiv Goof-master, and they seem a pretty nice kid. Very excited to create. i hope whatever their future looks like, they don't lose that spark. To be honest, most everybody i've met through doing reviews has been pretty cool. i've been inordinately lucky in that.

This is just a little giveaway level i found, tho' i don't remember why i found it. i already had a mostly complete logic bit set. Ended up working out for the best, tho'; i didn't have the old Global lighting and water logic bits, because i never used them in a level, but damn if they don't look fine. It's one thing i always appreciated about LBP1 logic, since there was a stronger possibility the pieces would be visible in level, Mm went through the design effort to make sure they would look nice as objects, the logic pieces from LBP2 on are all very readable when you have them in a chip, and that is really important, but they almost always stand out like a sore thumb when you see them in a level.

It's cute and everything, and i bet it was fun wiv a friend; but if you lose your bike, you're just fucked, and that's no fun. Honestly tho', i'm way more interested in the creator. lust-for-1985? What does that mean? What does that even mean?!

i can't rag on this level too hard, and honestly it's a good example of why we shouldn't just go and tee off on someone 'cause we don't click wiv what they've made. POBFISH's bio tells us they've got MS, and (at time of writing) were having a time of it. Also, interesting and appreciated, they updated the bio wivout erasing the previous bits, so we see them start at 44yo, to 45, a jump to 50 and expecting 51. That kind of sits wiv you a bit. When did they write that. Did they make it to 51? Did they stop updating because they stopped playing because they were done wiv the game, or because they were done? The level is... i hope they had a good time making it and playing it wiv their friends. i didn't have a bad time wiv it; the fish-vehicle-thing was a hoot. But there really wasn't much in there besides that. Well, it's not in me to throw shade here.

The gameplay here isn't too much to write home about; i feel like it struggles to maintain momentum, and there are bits that just don't parse super well visually. But dang if i didn't love the environment. Excellent use of extra layers and depth of field in the cameras to give the feeling that it's really expansive. Lots of movement, and decorations. Very solid choices in materials. Just all around nice to spend time in, and that's worth admission alone.

i appreciate this one, but i just can't bring myself to like it. The pace is just all over the map, and the timing on the hazards feels just tight enough to rack up a lot of needless deaths. It's got a lot going on, and it feels like it stays pretty true its theme, but at the end of the day, it really wasn't much fun.

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And that's that. Still thinking of how i want to handle the DLC review bits, but unless Sumo gets the servers back up, that'll be our last TENspot. i'll be honest wiv you, but it's melancholy as heck.

Thanks everyone for all the support for this Archive project. And just for everything up til now. You've made a major impact on my life, and i could never repay you for it. Keep yourselves safe, and remember that you're loved.

[queerinthealps]

Hot stranger's eyebrow is raised, looking at Colin expectedly. "Oh shit he's waiting for me to speak", Colin thinks. He panics, trying to think of what to say. Ok well, this was completely his fault of course, so he obviously wants compensation. He'll be able to pay for the damage easily, but the issue is he absolutely cannot be late to the earliest training days of the new season. The best bet is to exchange contacts, of course. Colin has absolutely no ulterior motive here. "Can you give me your number?", he blurts out. Hot stranger looks taken aback, both eyebrows now raised. “Smooth move idiot”, he thinks. “It’s just I can’t be late, but I can pay for this, but I gotta do it later we can maybe meet up or I can send you the money I don’t know whatever works.”, he rambles. Hot stranger blinks at him like he has all the audacity in the world. “Um, excuse me? You don't think I have somewhere to be, too? You're just trying to get out of this”. " No that's not true I promise trust me I can easily pay for this-shit that sounds like I'm bragging but I do" "I can tell-you drive the tackiest sports car I have ever seen. I mean, lime green? Really?" And evidently you can't even drive it". Colin thinks he should be offended by this, but honestly at this point he thinks this man could say anything and he would agree. Well, almost anything. If he said the phrase, "Wales does not need to be an independent sovereignty", then he would have a problem. “Listen, you can take a picture of the license plate if you want so if I don’t reach out you can take it to the police. That won’t be necessary tho, because I promise I will. Also, lime green is a great color”. The man finally relents, eyeing Colin, clearly mulling over something. “Alright fine, but on one condition-you have to buy me a coffee, too.” Wait, what? The gears turning in Colin’s head must be evident on his face, because the man in front of him smirks, clearly amused. “Give me your phone”, he says, reaching his hand out. Colin obliges, and when the man hands his phone back he looks down and sees he has added his contact- Michael. Hot stranger’s name is Michael. He then hold his phone out to Colin, and Colin puts his name and number in. “Nice to meet you, Colin.” I’ll be in touch”. And just like that, he turns around, gets into his car, and drives off. Colin can only stare and think “What in the actual fuck just happened?” He walks back to his car in a daze, vaguely registering a female voice shouting “Oi!”, and gets in. As he puts on his seatbelt, he hears somebody knock on his window. He turns, and its..a nun?? He rolls down his window, perplexed. ”Hello there’,” he says. The woman wastes no time with a greeting. “Sorry about the pre-season predictions. If I were you, I would fake an injury this season to avoid dealing with the misery.” And just like that, she leaves. Ok, so that’s two bizarre things to happen to him consecutively today. Ever since Ted Lasso showed up, things have changed so drastically. Maybe that’s what causing so many weird things to happen. And Colin can’t help but feel that something big is going to happen to him this season, and he is both nervous and excited.

AHH OMG THIS IS SO GOOD