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liliacamethyst · 11 months

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Web of Shadow and Light (Part III)

Sequel to Webs of Fate

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 5.2 K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine

Part I Part II Part III

The Spider-HQ echo with an unsettling symphony - a child's piercing cries and the hushed whispers of concern from some of the multiverse's bravest Spider heroes. They stand clustered around the smallest yet most powerful disturbance they've ever encountered - a baby boy. His wails have been echoing through the HQ since Miguel left the room, leaving the baby and dozens of Spider-man behind. Each cry is a call for help that pulls at their hearts, demanding attention, challenging their patience.

After much deliberation and coaxing from the rest, Miguel gave his team an ultimatum - they have until dawn to find an alternative solution, before Gabriel has to be eliminated, before the universe collapses on itself. His voice was a cold whisper when he spoke, "Figure out another way by tomorrow morning, or..." Nobody dares to complete the sentence, not even Miguel, the unsaid words hanging heavily in the air. And with that Miguel was gone, and the baby immediately started wailing and hasn’t stopped since.

Now Gwen, with her brows knitted in worry, rocks the baby with desperate gentleness. Her blue eyes are bright with unshed tears, a look of sheer helplessness painting her usually confident face. Beside her Peter B. is attempting to cheer Gabriel up but his efforts as pointless as they are endearing. The usually funny and charming Peter B seems to be losing a battle of wits with a one-year-old. It would've been humorous, had the situation been any different.

The sight of the little baby boy weeping his heart out, oblivious to the chaos his presence is causing tugs at their hearts, binding them in a collective resolution - they must protect this child. The shadows and the light, entwined in this web they’ve all been thrown into. And the clock is ticking.

Hobie scoops up the little boy, cradling him close in an attempt to soothe his relentless tears. "See, the cow says muhhhhh," he coos. His tiny cries falter, curiosity momentarily replacing distress. He gazes at Hobie with wide eyes, intrigued by the cool looking man. "And the butterfly," Hobie pauses dramatically, "well, the butterfly don’t say nothin’." He continues his little game, while rocking the baby gently in his arms. "And the pig says-"

Miles chimes in with an eager grin, "Oink, Oink."

"Nah, bruv," Hobie laughs. “The pig says, ‘You have the right to remain silent!’”

Gabriel’s face scrunches up, and the waterworks start again. Hobie chuckles, "Fair enough, little fella. Cops make me wanna cry too."

Meanwhile Jessica Drew, clad in her black and white Spider-Woman outfit, her dark locks cascading around her shoulders, is leaning against the doorframe, half entering the room, her eyebrows raised. "Well? I assume he didn’t stop crying?“

Beside her Peter B. with his shaggy brown hair and five o’ clock beard just shakes his head.

“This is nuts. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING is working.“ Gwen states.

In the background, the cries of baby Gabriel cotinue, little fists flailing as he continued his tantrum. Jessica, arching an eyebrow, comments, “He’s still going at it?”

Hobie Brown, just gives her a quick nod. “Oh yeah, the kid has got a set of lungs.”

Suddenly, Pavitr Prabhakar, yelps as a makeshift toy, made out of wood and spiderwebs, hit him square in the forehead. "Ow! And one hell of arm throw."

Methodically, Jessica starts running through a mental checklist. “Diaper?”

Peter B. Parker nods. “Clean.”

“Food?” Jessica glances at Miles who holds a baby food jar and a bent spoon.

Miles, in his black and red suit, shrugs. “Kept smacking the spoon out my hand.”

“Nap?” Jessica's questions further.

The entire room answer in unison, clearly frustrated “Literally the first thing we tried.”

Pavitr smirkes at them. “Jinx.” But his joke is short-lived as Gabriels screams become even louder.

Gwen, then takes charge, “Ok, we have to do something,” her eyes flicking around the room with determination. She points to Jess, “You have to talk to Miguel. You’ve been around him the longest, maybe you can get through to him.”

Jess looks hesitant but nods.

“And Peter,” Gwen turns to Peter B who’s still juggling items in his hands, to entertain the baby and stop his crying. “Get Mayday’s toys. Maybe the baby’s just bored.”

Peter gives a thumbs up. “You got it, boss.”

“And Pav, Hobie,” Gwen instructs, her voice steady. “You need to rally the other Spider-people. We need everyone on board to protect this little guy.”

“Margo, you’re with me, girl. We are paying our old friend Lyla a little surprise visit. Something’s a little fishy with her.” Margo nods eagerly.

As everyone scatters into action, Miles stands there, looking slightly lost and raising his hands. "Hey, guys, you forgot about me! What am I supposed to do? How can I help?" he calls out to the rapidly moving group.

Pav whirls around and points at Miles, "You, take care of the little guy, newbie," he says, as Hobie thrusts the still crying baby into Miles' arms.

"Great," Miles grumbles, balancing Gabriel on his hip and looking down at the squirming bundle of tears.

He starts to bounce up and down gently, trying to imitate what he's seen in movies. The baby continues to cry, unfazed by Miles' efforts.

“Alright buddy, let’s figure this out together. I can swing through New York, so how hard can babysitting be?” Miles whispers to the baby.

Hours drag on and Gabriel's relentless cries continue to echo through the HQ. Despite his earnest attempts, Miles, armed with only his spider powers and limited babysitting experience, is unsuccessful in calming the baby. He’s tried everything he can think of – makinf funny faces, telling funny stories in a soothing tone, gently swinging him back and forth with his web-slinging skills, and even humming a little tune (it was Humble by Kendrick Lamar, but the thought counts, right?). At one point, he even tried to entertain the baby by creating animals out of webbing, but that didn’t work either. The baby is relentless, and his cries only seem to get louder.

In the meantime in Miguel’s office, the echoing cries penetrate through the walls. Migel is sitting behind his desk looking at some documents, while Jess stands in front of him.

“Please, Miguel, it’s a baby boy. How did you imagine doing this, huh?” Jess exclaims, her voice rising. “Did you plan to build some sort of machine to just vaporize him? Or did you think of strangling him with your own bare hands? I know you’re not a monster.” But Miguel's face remains stoic, his eyes never leaving the papers on his desk.

“And look,” Jess continues, pointing vaguely in the direction of where the baby’s cries are coming from, “this baby is already older, and nothing has collapsed yet. The universe is still here.”

“I can’t risk any more lives, Jess,”Miguel responds coldly, finally looking up at her.

“But what if there is another way? We haven’t even tried everything. We have brilliant minds here. Let’s...let’s figure something out that doesn’t involve.. that,” Jess pleads, her voice softening.

Miguel looks at her for a long moment but his expression remains unreadable. The cries of the baby continue to fill the air.

Jess then turns her gaze towards Lyla, , who is stationed nearby, her holographic interface flickering with data. “Lyla, what are the kid’s powers? Run a genetics test, a DNA test. We need something to work with.”

Lyla’s synthetic voice answers in an eerily calm tone, "I have already processed the genetic information, Jessica. Thanks very much, genius. As per my findings, the child’s power attributes remain undefined. In regards to the DNA test..."

Lyla hesitates just a fraction of a second, but enough for Miguel to notice. It's an unexpected response from an AI that's programmed to be efficient and direct. A strange tingle rises within him but he pushes it aside, refocusing on the matter at hand.

“is inconclusive.” Jess squints at Lyla. “Inconclusive? What do you mean? Is he an anomaly or not?”

“He’s an anomaly, certainly. However, the DNA analysis is...complicated,” Lyla maintains her composed tone. “Complicated how?” Jess presses on. “Just...unfamiliar and intermingled genetic markers,” Lyla responds vaguely. “The child is an enigma.”

"Miguel, please" she continues, turning back to Miguel, clearly frustrated with Lyla's vague responses that are not helping her case. Her tone is still serious, "this isn't some variation of a monster, this is a baby."

For a moment, Miguel’s gaze flickers, his usual icy aura briefly wavering. "It doesn't matter," he finally grunts, closing his eyes as if to physically shut out the argument. Jessica's voice turns unexpectedly brittle. "I didn't join the Society to kill innocent kids."

Miguel clenches his jaw hard. "We do what we have to do for the greater good. No exceptions." Jessica takes a deep breath, her next words coming out almost in a whisper. "What if there was my Gerald or a version of your-" she begins, but is quickly cut off.

"DON’T. Don't even go there, Jessica" Miguel growls, his hand forming into a tight fist. "And why the hell is it still crying?"

Jessica's gaze softens slightly. "That child, that little boy, probably misses his parents. Parents who are going through hell right now, searching for their baby." Miguel's fist tightens further, a spark of something, maybe regret, guilt, flashing in his eyes. Jessica presses on trying one last time to convince him. "He was found in 586, right? Maybe we can reconnect with Su-"

"No," Miguel interrupts sharply, his voice a final command. “Until tomorrow morning, Jess,” he finally says in a low voice, putting an end to Jess’ outburst. “That’s all. You can leave now.”

There’s a heavy silence, where the only sound is Gabriel’s distant crying.

Jessica looks at Miguel, her gaze piercing. "Think about what you’re doing, Miguel," she whispers and leaves the room, closing the door softly behind her.

In the heart of the HQ, Margo sifts through the labyrinth of Lyla's concealed data. She uncovers a file that captures her attention – the baby's DNA results. "There you are," she mutters to herself, an air of triumph in her voice. As she opens the file, her eyes widen in disbelief, "Oh no…“

"What is it, Margo?" Gwen asks making her way over to Margo.

Margo's voice trembles slightly. "So, while looking through the hidden data, I found the baby's... there was a parental match."

Gwen's heart skips a beat. “I knew something was was off with Lyla. Of course she knows more. Well, who are the little guy's parents?"

Margo hesitates, then blurts out, "Miguel and Sunny."

Gwen stops dead in her tracks, her mind reeling. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"

"The baby's mother is Sunny, and the father is Miguel," Margo reiterates, her voice steady.

Gwen eyes widen. "But... are you sure? I know Sunny's baby. I was there when baby Gabriel was born!“

"Yes, I'm sure. There were two parental matches for the baby in the spider DNA logs:Sun Spider and Spider-Man 2099. When was the last time you saw the baby, Gwen? Babies change quickly at that age." Margo confirms.

"Miguel and Sunny? That's not possible... how have we never noticed that there's something going on between those two?" Gwen's mind whirls with confusion.

"Oh, I noticed," Margo's voice holds a hint of smugness, "The way he was sneaking into her room at night? And the way he looked at her every time she set foot in a room, like a lovesick puppy. It was adorable. Wait, nobody else noticed?"

Gwen splutters, taken aback, "What? No, I... well, he's all 'we need to sacrifice ourselves to protect the multiverse. No more traveling for fun'" she imitates Miguel's voice with a teasing lilt, then she adds, "And Sunnys is literally the personification of a warm embrace."

Gwen's mind whirls but she continues, “ Woah, okay lets focus on the important part. I mean, I knew something was wrong with Lyla, but why... why would she do that?"

"There's more, Gwen," Margo says, her voice shaking slightly. "I found another thing in her data. It's... it's about how she's processing information."

Gwen frowns, "What do you mean?"

Margo takes a deep breath before explaining, "In simple terms, Lyla's been teaching herself new things. She's changing, growing beyond her original programming. Her code is self-evolving."

"And the data about the baby?" Gwen asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Margo sighs, "She's been... twisting it, making the baby seem more dangerous than it actually is."

Gwen's mind reels with this new information, the world around her seeming to tilt. "But why?" she finally manages to ask. "Why would Lyla do this?"

"I don't know, Gwen," Margo admits. "But we need to find out and warn Miguel. And soon."

Meanwhile in Miguels office, the wailing becomes louder, almost as if piercing through the walls, trying to reach something, or someone. Miguel's face betrays his discomfort, as if the cries are tugging at his walls around his heart. There's a weight on his chest, something unidentifiable that makes it hard to breathe.

Suddenly Lyla’s holographic interface hums. She begins to show the outline various strategies for eliminating the child. Her voice, analtytic but almost cheerful, fills the room. “So, we could create a temporal displacement field, effectively erasing the child from existence. Or perhaps expose him to a slow-acting molecular destabilizer..."

"Based on the trial," she continues unfazed by Miguel’s lack of response. "the device should work as intended, wiping out any of its DNA and trace. Be like the anomaly never existed." There's a hint of satisfaction in her words.

Miguel, until now staring blankly at the wall, finally turns towards Lyla, his complexion pale and his eyes wide.

His insides twist painfully, the mere idea of bringing harm to this innocent child becoming now unbearable.

“Stop,” Miguel chokes out.

“Apologies, Miguel. We must consider all options for preserving the multiverse. You out of all people should know that,”Lyla retorts.

But something within Miguel snaps. His ice-cold distant facade crumbles. Rising abruptly, his chair clatters loudly onto the floor.

Without saying another word, he strides out of his office. “Miguel? Are you listening? Where are you going?” Lyla calls after him, but her words are unanswered in the empty room.

Walking down the hallway, Miguel slows down as he passes the room where the infant's cries come from. He pauses when he hears Miles' pleas inside.

“Little dude, if you stop crying promise I’ll get you some cool kicks. Maybe some baby Jordans? Please, please just stop crying,” Miles pleads, his voice sounding desperate and utterly exhausted.

After a moment hesitation, Miguel pushes open the door and steps into the room. His gaze, sterner than ever, as he takes in the scene: Miles looking near defeat, his energy spent trying to soothe the wailing child, his spider suit rumpled and hair disheveled.

"Enough," Miguel comms sharply.

Miles looks up from where he's been pacing with the baby, his eyes wide like he's just been caught stealing cookies from a jar. “You,” Miguel points at Miles, who is holding the still-crying baby. His voice booms with authority. “Put him down”

Miles, slightly dumbfounded, obeys and carefully lays the child down on his makeshift bed. “I need you to return to Earth 586. Get some of his belongings - toys, blankets, anything you can find," he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"But Miguel--" Miles startsbut gets cut off immediately.

"Now," he says, his red eyes flashing dangerously. Miles opens the portal hastily and disspears to your universe.

The crying has subsided to whimpers, and Miguel finds himself kneeling next to the little one, who reaches out for him. As if on autopilot, Miguel’s hands scoop him up abruptly from the bed.

"Quiet, niño. "Miguel growls at him with a low and threatening tone. "I could just... do it right now." His irritation gets the better of him, and he bares his fangs at the little one. This sight shocks Gabriel into silence for a moment, his big, teary eyes widening at the sight.

But then, to Miguel's surprise, the baby breaks into a fit of giggles, the sound infectious and joyous.

Gabriel suddenly mimics Miguel, baring his own little teeth – two tiny milk teeth and the beginnings of baby fangs peeking from his gums, causing Miguel to stiffen in shock.

Caught off guard Miguel's hold slips and Gabriel lands back on the web-shaped bed with a bounce. The baby's laughter ends abruptly and is replaced once more with tears and cries.

Still in shock, Miguel stumbles back a step, but Gabriel's cries soon pull him back into the present. With a sigh, he picks up the little boy yet again andGabriel immediately snuggles into the crook of Miguel’s neck, his tiny arms winding tightly around his throat. Miguel swallows hard, unsure of what to do next.

Then, almost instinctively, he starts to hum a tune he thought he'd long forgotten. "Tú eres mi sol de la mañana, el sol que brilla..." His voice is barely audible, the words shaky. Gabriel's little body relaxes against him, a content sigh escaping his lips followed by a quiet yawn. He nuzzles closer to Miguel, his tiny breaths falling into sync with the rhythm of the song. "...alegra todo, mi corazón," Miguel coninues softly, his mind flooding with memories. He sees a bright, lively girl with the same curious eyes as the boy in his arms.

"Daddy," Gabriella asks, her large eyes bright with curiosity as she looks up at him, "why do you call me your morning sun? I'm not yellow."

Miguel chuckles at her innocence, his fingers gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He cradles her against his chest, looking into those eyes so full of wonder. "No, mija" he replies, his voice soft with affection "you're not yellow but you are my sunshine."

"But why?" She wrinkles her little nose, her childish curiosity making Miguel's heart fill up with love.

"Because, mijita," he begins, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, "just like the sun, you light up my world. You chase away the darkness with your laughter and your love. You are warmth, you are joy, and just like the morning sun, you are a new beginning, a promise of a brighter day."

Gabriella blinks up at him, her lips curving into a small, and she hides her smile in the crook of his neck. "I like that, Papi," she whispers, "Sing the song again, please?"

“brilla, conmigo, brilla que brilla, alegrandome esta cancion. Tu eres mi sol de la manana…“

Eyes closed, Miguel draws Gabriel unconsciously closer, his heart full, and for the first time he’s feeling a sense of contentment he hasn't experienced in years.

The moment is shattered by the sound of a throat being cleared, pulling him abruptly out of his peaceful trance.

Peter B is standing in the doorway, arms loaded with various dolls. "Wow, he's finally asleep," he remarks, looking between Miguel and the now sleeping Gabriel with a relieved smile. "I was starting to think that was impossible."

Without responding, or even sparing a glance in Peter's direction, Miguel turns away from the door and heads to the bed. He gently places the sleeping toddler down, pulling a small blanket over him. Once he's confident that Gabriel is settled, Miguel quietly leaves the room, his demeanor as frosty and aloof as ever, making no acknowledgment of Peter's presence.

Peter B is quick on his feet, rushing after Miguel. "I brought him toys from Mayday," he blurts out. "She won't miss them. She's not too good at sharing, but I guess she won’t mind in this case."

Miguel continues his stride, not giving Peter so much as a backward glance. "Que maravilla," he mutters under his breath, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Ignoring the dismissal, Peter B. reaches out and places a hand on Miguel's arm, stopping him in his tracks. Miguel raises an eyebrow and glances back at him half-heartedly, clearly not interested in a conversation.

Peter takes a moment, his gaze intensifying. "Hey, boss," he begins, his voice shaky yet determined. "We can't let anything happen to this boy, right?"

At Peter's words, Miguel closes his eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath.

Back on Earth 586, you're in the throes of a meltdown. Your little boy, Gabriel, is nowhere to be found. You've scoured the whole city of Nea Yorkey, every nook and cranny you can think of, but there's no trace of him anywhere. Desperation gnaws at your insides, and fury bubbles up, hot and fierce. Your mind is in turmoil, swirling with anger and fear, clouding your ability to think straight. One thing is crystal clear though: whoever dared to touch your child will pay dearly for their actions.

You're frantically trying to find a way to contact anyone from the Spider Society, while simultaneously considering every possible avenue to traverse the multiverse yourself. Alchemax - the multinational conglomerate known for its cutting-edge research and technological advancements - seems to be your only hope. As you're about to make your way there, a sound from Gabriel's room stops you in your tracks.

Your Spider senses, already on high alert due to the unexpected circumstances, seem to kick into overdrive. Every instinct within you screams that something is about to happen. Your heart pounds in your chest like a wild drum as you slowly approach the room.

Meanwhile, in Gabriel's room, Miles is having his own share of troubles. In his haste, he stumbles over a toy car that starts making an assortment of noises and brightly lit animations. "Ah, this stupid toy!" he curses under his breath.

A thought suddenly crosses his mind and he wonders aloud, "Wait, does he need a blanket?" Just as he's about to reach for a small bunny stuffed animal that lay discarded on the floor, an intense blast of sonic energy sweeps across the room.

Caught by surprise, Miles finds himself flung across the room, his back hitting the wall with a thud. Before he can even let out a gasp, a spider web shoots out, pinning him securely against the wall. There he hangs, suspended, his eyes wide with shock and confusion. His breath comes in shallow gasps as he attempts to comprehend what just happened. Well its safe to say he didn’t saw that coming.

Miles, still stuck against the wall, manages to blurt out, "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" you echo, incredulity lacing your tone. "You break into my son's room and ask me whoI am?"

Your mind races as Miles stammers, "Wait, your son's room? Wait, are you...are you a Spider-person aswell?"

Ignoring his question, you stride towards him, an aura of threat radiating off you. "Stop talking!" you command, "I ask the questions!" In your hand, a ball of solar energy forms, crackling with power and casting a glow across the room.

"Why are you here? Where is my son?" The words are more of a growl than a question, the motherly instincts in you sending waves of danger rippling across the room. "Your son is okay, please don't hurt me!" Miles pleads with a shaky fear laced voice.

Squirmy and visibly frightened, Miles stammers out his confession, "We-we took him...it was our mission... He's an anomaly...we needed to get him out of this universe, send him to his own, so it wouldn’t collapse and interfere with the multiverse...but he doesn't have one, and I'm so sorry..."

His voice dwindles to a murmur, words tumbling over one another in his haste. Amidst his ramblings, your icy inquiry slices through like a blade, "Who instructed you?"

A sharp wince contorts his face, betraying his fear. "Our boss..." he starts, his voice barely above a whisper, "Miguel... Miguel O'Hara."

The energy in your hand dissipates, leaving only shock in its place. It's almost too much to take in - the idea that Miguel, your Miguel, could have done something like this. "He's okay, we... we didn't know he was the son of a Spider-woman. I'm Miles Morales, by the way." he introduces himself, attempting to inject some normalcy into the situation.

"I'm Spider-Sun," you respond automatically, your voice sounding distant to your own ears.

"Wait … you?" Miles' eyes widen in recognition. "You're Sunny?" When you give a numb nod in response, he continues, "You look more like 'Stormy' if you ask me." Your gaze snaps to Miles, the intensity of your death glare immediately silencing his attempt at humour. "Sorry, sorry," he stammers, raising his hands in surrender. "I just...I've heard Gwen and Peter talk about you."

"They never stop talking about you," Miles continues, trying to regain his composure. "They always say you have such a radiant personality and how much they miss you. They take care of your son, don’t worry. Hes safe for now.”

"What do you mean he's safe 'for now'?" you cut him off abruptly, your voice cold and hard. Miles gulps nervously before responding.

"Eh...we have until morning to find a solution for this...anomaly," he stammers. You interrupt him, seething with a fury that makes him cringe. "My son's name is Gabriel. He is not an 'anomaly'," you spit out the words like they are poison, hating the way they make your sweet little boy sound like some kind of mistake.

"Eh, yes, for Gabriel," Miles corrects hastily, "because, eh... if we don't find an alternative, they need to, eh...eliminate..." He trails off, speaking so quickly and softly that you almost don't catch his last word.

"ELIMINATE?????" You scream and for a split second, Miles is sure he sees your eyes blaze with a terrifying, luminating light.

"We can stop them. We can talk to them and say it's your son," Miles says quickly, desperately hoping to calm you.

"I don't talk. Bring me to my son," you demand. Without wasting another moment, you order him to open the portal. "Y-yes, right away, Sunn... eh, Mrs. Sun, eh... Ma'am," he stammers, visibly trembling under your steely gaze.

It takes him two shaky attempts before he manages to successfully open the portal, his hands still unsteady from the encounter.

Back at the headquarters, Peter chases after Miguel into his office. "Boss, all I'm saying is, what if Lyla is wrong?"

Miguel is pinching the bridge of his nose, a deep sigh escaping his lips. The weight of the situation is quickly becoming too overwhelming and he feels himself teetering dangerously close to his breaking point.

Just at that moment, Gwen, Pav, Margo and Hobie burst into the office, their faces set withdetermination. "Miguel, there’s something you need to know. Please hear us out. Margo and I, we found something.Lyla is - ," Gwen starts but Miguel is quick to silence her with a raised hand.

Just as Miguel is about to speak, the lights flicker, casting an ominous glow throughout the room. Hobie looks around nervously. "Is that eh...normal?"

Peter quirks an eyebrow. "Did you forget to pay the electricity bill?"

The lights flicker even more violently, plunging the room into a dance of shadow and light.

With a violent burst, the door is flung open, and a brilliant surge of light blinds everyone. You stand in the doorway, an ethereal aura glowing around you.

"O'Hara!" Your voice thunders through the room, heavy with wrath and revenge. As Miguel turns around to face the source of the sound, a massive, lightning-tinged sonar blast slams directly into his chest. He's pushed backward, knocked off balance before he can brace himself for the attack. He tries to recoverr, to shift into defense mode but he doesn't get the chance. You're relentless, a solar goddess in human form, hurtling blast after blast at him. Miguel has no time to regain his stance, each attack landing with more force than the last.

Gwen makes to step forward, her instincts screaming at her to intervene, but Peter grabs her arm, pulling her back. "That's Sunny," he says, his voice a mixture of awe and concern. Hobie's eyes widen comically. He cocks his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "Our Sunny, eh? Blimey, I never knew she had it in her. That rebellious firecracker," he mutters, a distinct note of admiration creeping into his typically laid-back British drawl.

Miles bursts into the room, breathless and disheveled. He stumbles towards Gwen, his voice hurried and concerned, "I tried to stop her, but she was...she was furious. Woahhh, I've never seen Miguel get beaten like this before."

And he wasn't exaggerating. Miguel was fighting back, his fangs bared, his claws out and ready but he was no match for your rage-fueled attacks. You were right up in his face, delivering punch after punch at a brutal pace

"Where's my son, O’Hara? What have you done to him?" you demand, your voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.

At your words, Miguel's movements falter. His defense wavers, and he barely manages to gasp out, "Your son?" He doesn't dodge your next blow, doesn't attempt to shield himself or strike back. Instead, he allows you to continue.

Miguel is shocked. His reflexes kick in as he sees the next punch coming and he grabs your wrist, halting your next powerful punch aimed for his face. He locks eyes with you, his gaze holding an emotion you've never seen in him before. Is it fear? No, it's much deeper, more profound.

As he stares at you, your luminescent eyes gradually lose their fiery intensity, shifting back to their human form.

"I... I didn't know," Miguel stammers, his voice a trembling whisper. "Lo – lo siento. I – I didn’t know.”

His breaths are ragged, and you can see a war waging inside him.

"But...how?How didn’t I know?" His voice is choked, your wrist still securely in his grip. “Your son?” Miguel continues,his voice is barely above a whisper. His eyes search yours and all he sees is raw, untamed anger with an aching pain that pierces his soul.

“Yes, MY son!” your voice echoes through the room like a whip. “Did you think that you could just take him from me? That I wouldn't come for him?”

Miguel’s grip on your wrist loosens as he stumbles back. His heart feels like it’s about to explode as realization dawns on him. The dark curls, the small fangs the baby had bared at him –pieces of a puzzle start falling into place. His own blood runs cold.

“Where is he, Miguel? Where’s myGabriel?” your voice breaks as you say the name, and it feels like another punch to Miguel's gut.

“Gabr...” Miguel chokes. “No... no...”

His voice is barely audible, the air knocked out of him by the significance of the name. His knees buckle, and he falls on the floor. "NO."

“You, who I thought would protect any child, wanted to eliminate my – our – flesh and blood!” Tears, full of anger and hurt, stream down your face, but your voice doesn't waver one bit.

Miguel, still on the floor, looks up at you with tear-streaked cheeks. “I didn’t know. I swear on my life, on Gabriella’s memory. I-I wanted to do the right thing. I- I never, -Lo siento.”

There’s a moment of tense silence as you look down at the shattered man before you,the love of your life, the father of your child, who almost made the most horrifying, unforgivable mistake.

Just then, from another room, the faint sound of a baby's cries pierce through the heavy atmosphere. You abruptly yank your wrist out of his grasp and towards the door to leave.

Your heart clenches as you break into a run, following the pitiful cries. You don’t look back.

Miguel remains on his knees. He doenst follow you, he doesn’t dare to move, anchored by the crushing weight of what he's done, as the sounds of Gabriel's cries fade into the background.

"Gabriel," he whispers, the name escaping his lips like a vow. A promise of redemption. And with that single word, Miguel knows he'll move heaven and earth to protect his child.

Part 4 "Webs of Redemption"

Hello, you wonderful souls! I want to say a big thank you for your patience and kind words about this series. I really appreciate each of your sweet comments and messages – they mean so much to me. Thank you all for the insightful ideas and suggestions you contributed for part 3. I've incorporated as many of your concepts as I could because they're simply brilliant. I'm eager to hear more of your thoughts, criticisms, and proposals for part 4. I also want to give a special thanks to Jess, @wolfjessedragon . Her inspiration and amazing ideas were the driving force behind Part 3, and I couldn't have written it without her! love you guys, keep being awesome!

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luveline · 3 months

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hiii can you possibly write a poly!marauders x reader who is way too much like sirius 😭 i’m so so so similar to him it’s literally scary and we have the same birthday too??? same everything it’s crazy i think it would be so funny to watch them navigate through Two siriuses 😭

thank you for your request <3 fem!reader

Remus has been in love with Sirius since they were fourteen years old, so falling for you was easy. It was practically already done.

You’re sitting by the window with a tape player in your lap and headphones over your ears. Pretty mouth turned down, eyes lined with a smudged kohl, you look lovely when you sulk. Remus can’t stand to leave you alone.

He gives you a moment's peace, of course, but with James and Sirius entangled in a dinner-making argument and nothing left to do, he’s almost forced to sit beside you in the window seat. There isn’t much room, bless, but you don’t argue, leaning back into his arm and continuing your staring out the window.

“You okay?” he asks. He knows the music isn’t too loud. You loathe being snuck up on.

“Am I okay?” you ask, turning your head gently to the side, meeting his eyes through the fence of your lashes. Mascara lengthens them, has their ends kissing your brow as you widen your eyes slowly, playfully.

“Sitting all by yourself.”

“I’m not,” you say, the corners of your lips curling into a pleased half-smirk. You’ve too much affection about you to be truly smug.

“But you were.” He moves the headphones off of your ears slowly.

It’s a good thing Remus is such a flirt. You’d be hard to keep up with otherwise. He does wonder how James survives it; you and Sirius will flirt brazenly, almost darkly, a seduction in the smallest of things. Picking lint off of his shirt, wiping coffee foam from his lip. And Remus is quieter, not as shy as some might think him but without the darling charm (well, unless he wants it).

You hold his gaze. “I knew you’d come and keep me company, Remus… that’s what you’re doing, right?”

He laughs in your face, which isn’t to stay he’s laughing at you. He just can’t not laugh. You’re nerve wracking and sweet and his to flirt with. Plus, you hear him laughing and the majority of your facade melts away as you laugh yourself, the tip of your nose bumping against his sleeve. “Jerk,” you say.

You and Sirius are different in some ways, of course. Sirius can’t stand having air blown in his ear and you love it, shivering with delight as you curl into his arm.

“Hello. What’s going on here?”

James is climbing onto the window seat before either of you can tell him not to. There’s absolutely no room for him nor his muscly arms, his shirt getting caught on your knee and rising, an unreadable mess of limbs and fabric. A tan hand uses Remus as a lift. James straddles your lap, bringing his face up to smile at you lovingly. “Hello, lovely.”

“James, this is rather selfish of you,” you say. “Me and Remus were having a cuddle.”

“He had you all last night.”

“That’s not true. Sirius shared me with him. I was like a cherry pit.”

James makes a horrified, undignified shriek like you’ve jabbed him in the gut. “What the fuck.”

“You know full well I didn’t, Jamie, on account of my being the big spoon to your little one.” Sirius arrives, and announces his disgust with a wrinkle of the nose. “I can’t believe I’ve just said that out loud. Domesticity is becoming too much.”

James is a tall, tall guy, and he’s not skinny either. Remus gives up his seat before he’s pushed from it, and at least finds a new embrace in Sirius’ space, a hand behind his back, ringed fingers ghosting against his spine.

“Aw, Remus, what are you doing? …Come back,” James whines.

You laugh again. “You’ve stolen all the room.”

“Can I be blamed?”

Sirius wraps his arm around Remus' waist. One moment he’s being hugged, the next kissed, silky soft kisses pressed to his jaw as Sirius murmurs, “You could’ve stood your ground.”

But then Sirius wouldn’t be kissing him.

“Forget him,” Sirius advises, his lips parting over a soft spot near threateningly. “Who needs him? You have me.”

“It wasn’t like that!” James insists. “I just missed her when I was in the kitchen.”

“And I missed you, Jamie,” you murmur.

Sirius scoffs, to Remus’ delight. “What’s funny?” Sirius asks, pulling Remus’ head back by the hair, not rough or anything but intimate enough of a move that Remus probably has hearts for eyes as he answers.

“She sounds exactly like you, you realise?”

Sirius narrows his grey eyes. “Well, it’s not a bad way to sound.”

Remus has had enough of him, really, the flirting is fun but he misses his boyfriend, especially if James is going to steal the cuddle with you Remus had been aiming for. “I want some herbal tea,” he says, sewing his arms over Sirius’ shoulders, as much love in his touch and gaze as he can possibly fit. “Do you want some? I’ll make it for us.”

In the same moment, James is holding your cheek and asking what you’d like for dinner, whatever you want, honey, so close you can smell his aftershave lingering from the morning and the minty cherry hybrid smell of his favourite chewing gum. His weight rests on your hip. Remus can see you heating up from over Sirius’ sharp shoulder.

You and Sirius are also very alike in that you both fluster at being treated with care. Immediate melting. Cheeks hot to the touch.

“I don’t mind, Jamie,” you mumble.

“I’d love some,” Sirius says, ever so slightly hoarse.

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bigfatbimbo · 3 months

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silly low effort Vox x reader headcanons —

Silly headcanons because Vox is one goofy piece of shit. It’s very comical actually. Like if you live together he would come home and literally just bitch and bitch about his day. Even if he actually considered it a good day, that wouldn’t stop him. Sings very loudly in the shower in hopes that you’ll hear him and tell him how great he sounds. No one fishes for compliments like this man. It’s really funny how he does it because he like give you prompts. “Oh yea, this afternoons live broadcast was, or at least I thought, one of the better ones of the week. What about you? What’d you think?” And then he’d hit you with the most insincere smile and blink at you expectantly. I think he’d work best with a reader who doesn’t play into his shit. He needs a reality check to get his ego in order, let’s be real. But definitely not one that’s anything like Val; AKA overly critical and negative. Give him a good amount of praise but not in a yes-man type of way. He already has too many workers like that. Like a good sincere, specific compliment would knock him flat on his ass. I said in a recent shitpost that was super ticklish and I meant it! The back of his head where his wires are and the sides of his stomach are his most sensitive spots. If you spontaneously attack you by tickling him, he’ll literally loose his shit laughing and be so caught off guard. ”Holy shit—hah— stop! Stop it—“ He’d practically seethe through violent giggles. “—y/n—pfft—this isn’t funny!” And then he’d pretend to be all pissed off after you finally stopped, but in reality he liked the attention. He likes to keep his walls up and not be vulnerable but, given the right approach, I don’t think it would be that hard to fluster him. I saw a headcanon where his eyes can make heart shapes and I second this. When you make him blush his screen would just light up brighter and his eyes would turn to hearts. Then he’d be like “God FUCKING dammit! Shut the fuck up, already!” because of how obvious it would be. He’d have to put his hands over his screen and turn away from you. But he’d be very annoyed the whole time which would lead to this comical pissed off blushy rage. He gets really excited about things easily, leading to a bunch of excess energy and he’d probably get really loud too. This doesn’t only happen when you’re watching something he’s really invested in, although that is the more often situation. You could be playing a board game and he’d get unbelievably happy if he was winning. Hell, maybe your just listening, really listening, too one of his ideas for Voxtech. Usually the other vees kinda just go on their phones when he’s like this, maybe even tell him to shut up. Although that probably doesn’t bother him that much, he’d be genuinely taken aback if you listen. He’d probably stop half way through his excited rambling and notice you just looking at him. Tell him how cute he looks I DARE YOU. Que the angry blushing as he hides his screen. He’s also a huge complainer. Like HUGE he’s actually unbareable. He considers himself the least spoiled out of the Vees, and yeah, probably. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t. “Yeah, and the fucking press was all over my ass today about ‘safety’ or some shit. I played it off fantastically as per usual but god, they’re annoying.” ”Yes, Vox. God forbid they bother prince charming over here.” ”Exactly!” I also think he’d want your attention like 24/7 on the clock. Like if you even stop to talk to anyone else he’d probably cross his arms, tap his foot, and just fucking pout. Maybe he’d even sigh dramatically in your direction and check his watch because if you can’t tell, Vox is very high maintenance. All the Vees are in fact. He’d get jealous very easily too if your attention is directed at anyone else. ”Who are you texting? Is that a ‘good friend’ or something? Hm. You only texted me twice today.” I also think that he would like cuddling after a long day like with his screen resting on your chest and watching tv with you. He’d never ask though, so you’d just have to know when to offer.

He also would like it when you rub his back and treat him gently like that. He probably wouldn’t be used to gentle touch. Probably also falls alseep on you a lot.

a/n — Take these all with a grain of salt BY THE WAY. Because I titled these ‘silly’ headcanons for a reason.

This doesn’t include how terrible he would be (manipulative, selfish, etc) because I just felt like doing something light hearted without angst!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel vox #vox x you #vox x reader #hazbin vox #vox #silly low effort headcanons

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abibliophobiaa · 9 months

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Chapter Five: One Bed

summary: you and eddie have to share a bed, and things start to take a new turn. (7k words)

eddie munson x pregnant!reader || strangers to friends to lovers, unplanned pregnancy, and then they were roommates, forced proximity.

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

——

“Just a warning, these nights get loud,” Chrissy expressed, maneuvering around where you sat near the kitchen island, bouncing Melody on your thigh. “And just think, in a few months we’ll have another little girl here to add to the chaos.”

“Don’t remind me,” you groaned, already dreading the idea of getting her out once all was said and done. “I miss the days when we thought storks delivered babies to your front step.”

“It’ll be all worth it once she’s here.” Chrissy giggled airily at that, placing bowls of chips around the table, tutting when Melody’s hand reached out to try and grab some. “How are things going with you and Eddie? Living together, sleeping just down the hall from one another…”

“I don’t know what that look is in your eye, but it seems diabolical,” you mused, taking a sip of your water perched on the table beside you. “Him and I are friends.”

“Friends who seem very cozy as of late.”

“We’re living together and…so what if we enjoy the company of one another —” You paused as her lips curled into a devious smirk. “— not in the way you’re thinking. We just spend a lot of time together lately.”

“I think the way he dotes on you is sweet,” she said, reaching her hands out to grab Melody. Hoisted the baby up onto her hip. “You know he talked about you a bunch after Halloween. You must have made a good impression on him.” She sing-songed the latter half, a mischievous little glint in her eye that looked out of place on her sent your way.

Flashes of that night danced across your vision. Those brief introductions at the table. The way you’d spent hours talking and laughing with one another. The moment beneath the awning where you’d almost kissed. Food shopping with him. His fingers on your form as he undressed you, inside you as they drew out your pleasure, mouth hot and fervent against your own. The way he mapped your body later with his lips, how he’d lavished you with his words as he rolled you beneath him that second time, your hands tangled together in bed sheets near your head, eyes locked on yours as his hips rolled into yours.

The night was seared into your brain. Imprinted on your mind. Intimate in a way you’d reeled from, a spark different than anything you’d had with Paul — or anyone for that matter. A complete stranger, and yet something had felt so different that night. So ‘impression’ deemed too insignificant of a word to express what that night signified.

For one, it marked the beginning of something new, now nestled within, just beneath your breast.

“I just think it’s less complicated this way,” you added, glancing down at your midsection. “She’s most important. She needs both of us.”

“And what about what you want?”

“I’ve had enough run-ins with love to know it’s likely not in the cards for me,” you told her sourly.

“What if it’s just a matter of you not having met the right person?” Chrissy asked, placing Melody in her high chair. “You know, before I met Steve, I’d been dating someone else. My parents loved him. On the basketball team, town golden boy, involved in his church and charity. Perfect, by their standards. But what they didn’t know was that we fought — almost every day. He didn’t make me happy; or I thought he did, until I met Steve.”

“You never told me how you met Steve.”

“At a roller rink,” she giggled, glancing over your shoulder to where her husband and the father of your own child were drinking beers together in the living room. “He’d bumped into me. Literally crashed into me. We spent the day with me icing my head and him icing his cheek. But we talked for hours. And he was funny and sweet and charming and I just knew it was him. Right away.”

“That’s — that’s really sweet, Chrissy…”

“How does Eddie make you feel?”

And there it was. The question you’d been avoiding, because it meant admitting to the fact you simply weren’t sure. You knew you liked him, but liking him meant putting yourself in a vulnerable situation.

“We’ve only known each other a couple of weeks —”

“Time doesn’t define the importance of something, silly,” Chrissy said, dropping down onto the chair beside you. “Right now, at this very moment, how does he make you feel?”

You glanced his way. And, like he always seemed to, he had this uncanny way of knowing when you needed him. Ever present, with that seemingly constant glowing smile on his face from over Steve’s shoulder where he sat. A question burned behind his gaze, but you shook your head, and he relaxed back against the couch no longer on alert.

“Good. Heard. Seen. Cared for,” you rattled off, wanting to cover your face with your hands. Wanting to hide from the gnawing fear burning in the back of your mind over the reality of it all. “But it doesn’t matter, because what if we try and it doesn’t work and now Elena has two parents who don’t even like one another, or can’t even stand to be in the same room together?”

Chrissy curled a hand around your shoulder, those bright eyes of hers meeting yours sympathetically. “What if we imagined the reverse? What if none of that happens? You won’t know if you don’t try.”

Another time, another place, another day — those had been the words spiraling in your mind the day you left him back in his hotel room. Another person — someone who would offer him the rose-colored glasses, the giddiness of relationship, the joy of love. He was deserving of so much; the world, really.

“I’m not just saying this because he’s my husband’s best friend,” she started, voice lowering into a quieter whisper, “but he’s a good man. The best of the best. What if you opened up to the idea of…simple like? Not even love.”

What if you opened up to the idea…to simple like? Could it really even be simple? It seemed like such a juxtaposition to your current reality. Yet, the words knocked around in your head all the same, wonder already forming in the catacombs of your mind at the mere possibility.

However, before you could give it any life, the thought was disrupted by the doorbell, to be shelved away for later.

——

The arrival of the fondly named “kids” came with an air of chaos. Friends who traveled from near and far to come visit, all wrapped together in one room. Max and Lucas, on holiday here in Hawkins, now residing in California together.

Will and Mike arrived a little later, holding hands and a package of Oreos that you immediately opened and snacked on, much to their shared amusement.

El, who you had previously met, was visiting her step-brother Jonathan and Nancy in the city — the same woman you’d already contacted, thanks to Eddie’s suggestions, and were now waiting to hear back from.

Their initial reactions to finding out about Eddie being Elena’s father were met with amusing degrees of excitement and many questions — but overall, they were all over the moon for him. It made your chest ache to see him so happy, the way he proudly talked about his daughter before them all, the fondness behind his eyes as he spoke.

You remained at his side through it all, overjoyed to simply be there with them, laughing when they’d dove into a story about a time Steve, Robin and Eddie had taken the kids camping, and Eddie and Steve had the not so brilliant idea of trying to spook them before bed.

“To be fair, we were only fifteen at the time,” Mike explained from beside Will. “Which should really show you what these assholes are capable of —”

“Hey, watch what you’re about to say,” Eddie began, waving a finger in Mike’s face. “That is your mother and father you’re talking about.”

“Who’s mother?” you asked, laughing when Steve pinched at the bridge of his nose.

“Steve’s mom,” Robin explained, appearing in the doorway with Vickie. “And your guy over there is dad.”

Neither of you bothered to correct Robin on that comment.

“So maybe we’d told them a little campfire story about bears in the woods before bed,” Steve started, curling his arm tighter around Chrissy’s shoulders. “What’s the problem with that?”

“Well,” Dustin interjected, leaning out of his seat from where he sat next to his soon to be bride. “Here’s the thing — we were on high alert. Started stocking up in case we needed to fight off a bear.”

“Wasn’t our fault Eddie is an idiot and started growling outside of our tent and maybe got sprayed in the eyes with hairspray,” Max said, bursting into loud giggling when Eddie cringed beside you, as if recalling the memory like it had happened moments ago instead of years ago.

“That shit hurts, okay?” Eddie grumbled, and you patted his kneecap teasingly.

“The scream he let out,” Lucas added, and the rest of the group laughed in agreement.

“I do not scream.”

“You do, man,” Steve said solemnly, earning a glare from his best friend. “It was so loud. Thought the police were gonna be called.”

“Sorry,” Eddie began, rolling his eyes, “who was it that used Farrah Fawcett spray in the first place? Because that’s where these little asshole gremlins got it.”

“Hey — it works!” Steve shouted. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”

“Steve, my friend, I walk out of the shower and my hair looks like this. I don’t need products to enhance what I was naturally blessed with.”

“Bet you’re doubting your decisions to procreate with him now, aren’t you?” Mike joked, flicking his gaze between the two fighting men.

But you only laughed, because you weren’t doubting it at all, but instead thoroughly enjoying yourself. Especially now as Eddie interrupted their stories meant to embarrass him and suggested they maybe start their game before it got too late and they’d have to call it a night.

Eddie on a normal day was…breathtaking, beguiling, intriguing. Different from most you’d ever encountered in all the best ways imaginable. Appreciated for all he was simply because he marched to the beat of his own drum. He loved life and enjoyed it to its fullest. He never once put on airs, tried to be anyone but his fullest self. Had accepted Eddie Munson as Eddie Munson years ago.

You’d known as much from conversations with Steve, Chrissy and Robin over dinner. Eddie’s face bright red in a blush whenever they recounted stories from their younger years. And over the span of several weeks, you’d gotten to know it for yourself as well.

Eddie was Eddie.

Perfectly, wonderfully atypical.

But seeing him like this — in his element, surrounded by his loved ones, weaving a tale that left you enraptured. Left you leaning out of your seat, as if lured by some unseen vision, his words wrapping around your heart. Your mind.

Chrissy grinned to herself at the sight. A little flash of it you’d seen, twisting those pretty pink lips. But you’d chalked it up to the fact Eddie Munson was a natural born storyteller. Inspired by the many books his mother had read to him as a young boy, even now. Even so, what a lovely thing? To be graced with it so intimately like this, to see his inward love so outwardly on display.

Later, after the campaign had wrapped up and everyone left for the evening, you sat beside Eddie in the passenger seat of his car. Regarded his face illuminated by streetlights as you passed them by. Glimmers of dark eyes, full lips, those freckles cheekbones.

Long, torturous moments passed in silence, fueled by Chrissy’s comments and insinuations. Fueled by the questioning of what would happen if only you played the tape deck forward. Would you crash and burn or take to the wind and soar? Would you risk it all for the sake of your own want, or play things safe for the needs of the third party in this increasingly complicated situation?

“Are you —”

“Can we go somewhere, Eddie?”

You’d both spoken at the same time, laughing awkwardly as you’d done so. Rushed utterances of the first things that stumbled into your minds. Eddie’s ringed fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter, shifting onto the side of the road with his right blinker.

Once settling the car into park, he shifted in the seat your way, worried lines marking his forehead. “Is everything okay?”

“I just…” What did you want, though, really? “I’ve been having a hard time sleeping.” Not quite a lie, and yet not also the full truth as to your whirring thoughts.

“Do you want to go for a walk around our neighborhood?” he suggested, turning the car back on when you’d nodded. “I know you mentioned you were having a hard time a little while back, but I didn’t realize how bad. How long has this been going on?”

“Couple of weeks,” you grumbled out, leaning your head against the window. “Doctor said insomnia is another thrilling side effect of all of this.”

“I’m sorry,” he huffed out, though it was hardly his fault at all and you both knew that, drumming his thumb along the steering wheel. “You could have told me, though. I’d have tried to help you.”

You shrugged, shifting on the seat a bit so you were facing him. Noted the determined line of his lips, his bare arms moving as he steered. “Where are you going? This isn’t the way home.”

“I’m thinking we need dessert for our walk,” he said, the turn signal clicking as you waited to make a left turn into the parking lot. “Chocolate?”

“Mmm Oreo sounds really good right about now.”

“So I have something to ask you and I know it’s kind of out of the blue and last minute and I meant to ask you beforehand but we had Steve’s today and it kind of got pushed to the side.”

“Is this why you’re buttering me up with a milkshake?”

“Maybe.” He said, a little teasing glint in his eyes, the red stop light bathing his skin in the bright glow. “Okay, so, Wayne’s place is getting work done. Something with a burst pipe and he can’t stay there for a couple of days.”

“So you want me to stay with Robin or something —”

“No, no,” he urged with a hand on your forearm. “I just need the guest room for a couple days.”

“Oh, okay.” You nodded, considering. “I can sleep on the couch for a few days.”

“What? Sweetheart, no. I’m not — I’m not making my pregnant —” He paused, catching himself, swallowing thickly. “I’m not making you sleep on the couch.”

“Yeah, but I’m not taking your bed,” you argued, “so I guess we’ll have to share.”

The words spilled out in a rushed breath. You’d not even really thought about what you said until the words were already there, out in the open, exposed for the taking.

“I mean, we’re adults,” you continued, shrugging. “We can sleep in the same bed without it being weird.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding evenly, mulling over your words, “that was easy then. You’ll sleep in my bed. With me.”

And that — that had your stomach turning. Twisting in that giddy, roller coaster, butterfly type of way. The way that had your fingers curling around the edges of your seat as Eddie parked the car and rushed into the opened diner to grab the two of you your sugary treats.

He returned as your heart settled back into normal rhythm. Opened your door and thrusted your drink into the air, muttering, ‘For the lady’ with a bow that had your cheeks heating up.

It only took another few minutes to pull up in front of Eddie’s home, your door opening so you could hop out as soon as he’d shifted it into park. Tugging your hoodie tighter to your body, you walked along the sidewalk and waited as he hooked his keys onto his belt loop, locked the car, and joined you beneath the street lamp.

“After you,” he said, practically bouncing on his heels as you began your loop around the neighborhood.

“You know, there are so many stars here than back in the city,” you muttered after a while, pausing with your drink outstretched in hand, head tipped back to take in the sky. “It’s just another thing I don’t really miss about back home. I feel so much more…I don’t know, connected? To myself and those around me. Without all the hustle and bustle.”

“Never thought about that,” he breathed out, hand guiding you closer to him on the sidewalk so you wouldn’t stray too far into the road. “I guess it’s easy to take for granted when I see it all the time.”

“Did you know there are two to four hundred billion stars in just our galaxy alone?” You tilted your head over your shoulder, catching the way the moonlight illuminated Eddie’s features. “And there are something like hundreds of billions of galaxies. Fun things you pick up when you work at a high school library.”

“I did not,” he admitted, lowering his head to take you in. His eyes lingered on your face, on the lines of your lips, and you swallowed the thick knot forming in the back of your throat. “Anything else you learned while at my old high school?”

“The worst lunch days are definitely Wednesday,” you sounded off, sipping your drink, “O’Donnell always has mustard on everything while we have lunch and Elena hates it. Which means I hate it. Uhm, they definitely need a wider selection of novels, and their cataloging system could use some major work. Oh — and the vending machine near the nurse’s office has the best snacks.”

He laughed, a bright, happy sound that had you nearly bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Sounds about right.”

“You know, tonight was actually really fun.” You tipped your drink lid into his chest, smirking slightly. “I saw a different side of you tonight.”

He followed as you trailed onward again, the sound of his shoes pounding against concrete to keep up in your ears. “A good side? Come on now, sweetheart. Can’t leave a guy hanging like that.”

Nose wrinkling, you snorted. “I liked it. You had a very…commanding presence. The kids enjoyed it, too.”

“So she likes commanding —”

“Hey —”

“Kidding, kidding.” Eddie held up a hand in surrender, waving his cup in the air with a big flourish as you halted on the sidewalk in front of him to allow him to catch up. “Honestly, I’ve been doing that for so long, it’s become something I look forward to. Back in high school I’d run the club, and that’s when I ended up meeting the guys. Mike, Lucas, Dustin and Will. Took them under my wing a little bit — you know how it is, teenagers are shitty.”

“Teenagers are shitty,” you agreed, sounding a little morose. “I was lucky to have Micah at that point. So it never felt like I was alone. But those years can be isolating. I can’t imagine. I’m sure they were so happy to have you there for them.”

“Yeah, well…they’re now attached to Steve and I. Like our own little band of shithead gremlins. But we love them.”

“I can tell you do,” you said, thinking back to when Max had hugged him goodbye and he’d patted her head. Looked up at him like she’d admired him. “They love you too. The way they talk about you is really sweet.”

“Now they’re all grown up,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Which reminds me…Dustin is getting married in a week and he suggested today that I might ask you to come with me.”

He looked at you out of the corner of his eye. A nervous little bounce in his step. Noticed that he’d dragged a hair along his lip, trying to hide himself from you.

A knowing smile creeped along your lips. “Like…as your date for the afternoon?”

A date — you could do a single, solitary date with a friend.

He glanced down at his feet, exhaling deeply. “Yeah, exactly like that.”

“I’ll have to buy a dress,” you said quickly, putting the poor man out of his misery, “but I’d love to.”

“Okay.” He nodded, grinning softly to himself. “Ah, awesome. Perfect. Can’t wait.”

You continued like that for a while. Simply walking beside one another, talking about anything and everything beneath the stars. Simply basking in the presence of another person as the moon glowed brightly above.

Eventually, when you’d finished your shakes, you both decided to head back to the house, but neither of you seemed keen to separate for the night.

Eddie spoke with you on your bed, your feet in his lap, his hands rubbing at your sore calves, until you started to doze off against your pillow.

Stayed with you until you finally fell asleep.

——

Wayne was on his way out of the house for the afternoon when you whirled around, Eddie’s apron tied around your waist, your sous chef beside you with his hair pulled back. You’d been working together for an hour now, making penne alla vodka that you couldn’t help but lean over and smell the sauce that was currently simmering in a pot. It should be illegal to smell so good, you thought, hip brushing Eddie’s as you moved around him to grab the shredded cheese.

Tonight was the first night of your arrangement. Sleeping beside Eddie in his bed. Platonically. No funny business to be had by any means. Sure — Wayne would be working the night shift and gone for most of the time you’d be sleeping beside Eddie, but you’d cleaned out the guest room to allow for him to sleep in there, making sure the man knew this was his home as well as yours.

Not that you’d had any say; nor could you quite pinpoint the moment when Eddie’s home had become yours too. Found yourself saying things to him in conversation when out and about from time to time, simple remarks of “let’s go home” and “oh, it’s at our place” and even the night you’d walked under the stars with Eddie, back in the car, when you’d said “this isn’t the way home.”

And even so, here you were, hosting at the place you called home with Eddie.

Weird to think how a few weeks had changed everything. Nearly twenty-three weeks along, and living with Eddie for a little over a month now.

“You two went out of your way to do all of this for me?” Wayne mused, chomping at a piece of garlic bread (that didn’t make you run for the toilet this time, luckily enough), seated across from the two of you when you all finally settled down for dinner. “Didn’t have to do that.”

“You’re going into work,” you said, offering him a grin, “we wanted to make sure you were fed.”

“Thanks little lady. Ed.” He took another bite and picked up his fork, nodding his head your way. “How is my grand baby treatin’ you?”

“Pretty much moving all the time now,” you sighed, Eddie pouring you another glass of water when yours emptied. “Eddie will have to show you her room. He did an amazing job with it.”

“I’d love to,” he agreed, clapping his nephew on the shoulder. “And thanks for letting me stay with you two. Sorry to steal your bed.”

“It’s fine, seriously!” you huffed out with an amused snort, pushing your chair back as you finished up your plate, reaching over to grab Eddie’s as well. “Do you want me to put a pot of coffee on?”

“Nah, this here is fine,” Wayne said, polishing off the rest of his plate and adding it to the plates you began running water over. “I’ll grab some when I get to work. You two have a good night now.”

As Wayne slipped out for the night, you raised the dial on the radio Eddie kept in the kitchen. An older Frank Sinatra song was playing, hands buried deep within the sink, when he’d sidled up to you and began drying the dishes you laid into the drying rack.

You hadn’t even asked him to, but it had become a routine of sorts as of late. These little things he’d do, if only to spend a little extra time with you. That foot rub last night as you watched a movie; the lingering hug in the doorway last night before bed; helping you fold laundry on laundry days; the delighted way he’d rubbed the knots out of your shoulder after work simply because he said you deserved it.

You worked in comfortable silence. Each time you finished a dish, you handed it over to Eddie, and he placed them in their proper storage places. It wasn’t long before you’d finished, and the music still played between the two of you, a soft and gentle tune that had you humming to yourself.

Neither spoke as you shut the light after leaving the kitchen. Nor as he offered you the bathroom to change, and you slipped inside the small, dimly lit room with a shaky exhale. Hands rested against your lower back, feet carrying you back and forth along the carpet, eyes catching on your reflection in the mirror.

This was stupid — wasn’t it? He’d seen you fully bare before him before, and he’d enjoyed what he’d seen. And yet, the prospect of slipping into a pair of sleep shorts and a tee shirt had your heart racing. With shaky fingers, you reached down and plucked your sweater up and off your body, pausing at the sight of your form reflected back at you.

He’d liked you before. But you wondered what he thought when he saw you now, every day feeling a little less like yourself, body a home to someone else as of late. Then again, it didn’t matter, you reminded yourself. Just because you’d developed feelings for the metalhead didn’t mean he’d felt the same.

With a deep sigh, you snatched the Corroded Coffin tee you’d plucked from your dresser and pulled it over your head, and then reached down to tug on some pale sleep shorts. Once satisfied, you finished up your normal bedtime routine and slipped back down the hall, knocking on Eddie’s bedroom door for entry.

“Come in,” he called out, and your eyes immediately zeroed in on the bare chest that greeted you near his bedside table.

He was tucking away a pair of his socks into the drawer, head turning over his shoulder, eyes widening at your appearance. You mentally cursed, feeling self conscious.

“What are you wearing?”

“A shirt,” you groaned, rushing over to your designated side of the bed, wanting to get the night over and done with.

“Why do you sound upset?” he asked, dropping down onto the bed behind you, palm coming up to curl around your shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. “What did I say, sweetheart? I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me.”

He grimaced as you shoved a pillow over your head. “You just looked at me funny. I know I don’t look the way I did the night we hooked up —”

“Hey hey hey, breathe.” You groaned into your pillow, the sound muffled by Eddie’s laughter. “I looked at you ‘funny’ because there’s a ridiculously pretty woman wearing a shirt with my band’s name on it, who happens to also now be laying in my bed, okay? And remember what I said that night? You’re out of my league — that’s still true now.” He paused, feeling your shoulders relax a bit at his light hearted, if a little self deprecating, joke. “Come on, Buttercup, look at me for a second, okay?”

You rolled over in the bed, pillow falling with it, and he lowered himself down onto an elbow, running a constant and comforting line across your bicep. “Looking.”

“Just — you’re wearing that,” he repeated, toying with the hem of the shirt to stretch the logo across your chest. “The matter of my attraction to you has never changed, if anything it’s…grown because I don’t think you realize what it does to a man when he looks at the woman carrying his child, and now that same woman is laying in his bed.”

“Oh,” you squeaked out, cheeks heating rapidly. “Okay.”

“Yeah — oh, sweetheart. Wanted to make that clear, so there’s no confusion here.”

He rubbed at the back of his neck, tops of his cheeks flaming red, moving over to his bathroom. Pleasure swooped low in your belly — curled, tumbled and spread it as you caught him adjusting himself in his pants on the way.

——

“Nancy sent in one of my children’s books,” you said, crawling into bed on the second night, tugging the blankets up and over your shoulders. Eddie slid in beside you, head resting on the pillow, hair spilling in a halo around him. “She said it was really good. She thinks I should hear back soon hopefully.”

“It is really good,” he reassured, rubbing your arm comfortingly. “I wish you could see that. I’m so damn proud of you.”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, shuffling closer to him. “My ex, Paul, kind of — well, he didn’t think writing was something one could turn into a career. Kind of discouraged it, which is why I’d put it on the back burner for a while. It’s hard to think that it could ever turn into anything. Or it was…until I found out I was pregnant. And suddenly everything changed. I want to do the best for her, be the best for her.”

He thumbed along your bicep, offering you a soft smile as you continued, “One of the things I admire about you is how you’re just…unabashedly you. There’s only one Eddie Munson and he’s just who he is and you’re literally watching your dreams come true. It’s made me realize it can happen for me too.”

“First of all, your ex is an idiot for not encouraging your dreams. I hate how society says if it’s art you’re interested in it’s not practical and not valid. Sometimes I wish I could give a giant fuck you to all the teachers who said I wouldn’t amount to anything because I preferred music over school,” Eddie started, those umber eyes catching yours in the lamplight. “But I’m glad you’re trying because I don’t doubt for one second that you have a gift. I believe in you.”

“Can I hug you?”

“Always, Buttercup.” He shuffled even closer, his stomach pressing into yours, dark eyes glinting with vibrancy. “Looks like there’s some di —”

“Do not finish that sentence!” You laughed, shifting until you were comfortable enough, forehead pressing into the curve of his chest, arms looped tight around his waist.

His eyes softened then, lips settling into a firm line. “Look, I know — I know we didn’t plan for this to happen the way it has, but our little girl really has the best mom.”

“You really think so?” He hated the sound of your voice. The lack of confidence behind the tone. Felt his heart cleave down the middle.

“Absolutely. Why…do you doubt that?” Eddie frowned as you tugged him closer, fingers twined in the back of his shirt.

“I…my parents weren’t around much. Always too busy, too worried about other things than quality time spent with me,” you admitted, chewing on your bottom lip. “I’m afraid when she gets here I just won’t know what to do. Won’t know what she needs when she’s crying, or how to change her diaper, or how to tell what she’s thinking. I didn’t have an example of all of that, so what if I’m terrible at it?”

“Can I be honest?” Eddie asked, tipping your chin up with a finger.

“Shoot.”

“I’ve never changed a diaper. Or been around a newborn other than Melody. Even then, I’d kind of waited until she was less fragile to hold her. I’m scared as shit, too,” he said, locking eyes with you. “So we’ll figure it out together, okay?”

“Okay.” You weren’t alone. Despite everything, you weren’t alone. Eddie and you would figure everything out as a team — two people navigating the unknown.

“Also, we can’t change how we grew up. But we can make sure we try harder for Elena to give her the best.”

“I don’t know how you do it,” you said, pressing your fingertips against his sternum, feeling his pulse race beneath. “Always knowing what to say.”

He chuckled, a low, raspy tired sound. “I'm flattered you think that, but I’m just figuring it out too, you know? All I know is I’ll never be the way my dad was to our daughter, and the rest I’m sure will come along with her just being here.”

He paused, glancing down to where the two of you were connected, saying, “You have me.”

“You have me too, Eddie.”

——

Tossing and turning. Eddie felt you tossing and turning all night, annoyed huffs of breath falling from your lips every time you flipped over onto the opposite side to try and get comfortable. He’d realized quickly you never did, though.

“Hey,” he whispered, testing to see if you were presently awake. A displeased groan fell from your parted lips, body flopping back over so your face was mere inches from his on your separate pillow. “Can’t sleep?”

“I’m uncomfortable,” you admitted, mouth turning downward in a sour frown. “It’s not even like I’m not tired. I know I’m tired, but my mind feels all restless. And so is she.”

At that, Eddie pulled back the comforter and lowered his head to your middle, palm spreading over the hill of it. “Hey, behave in there, okay? Your mom is trying to get some sleep.” At your laughter, he shifted back onto his pillow. “Turn over.”

“What?”

“Turn over. I’ll rub your back and we can talk until you fall back asleep,” he said, immediately noticing the curve of your brow in confusion. “My mom used to do that all the time when I’d have nightmares. Figure it’ll work the same.”

“But you need sleep,” you argued, knowing he had taken an extra weekend shift tomorrow at the shop that he needed to be up early for.

“I’ll make an extra cup of coffee in the morning. Right now though, we both need sleep,” he stated plainly, “but I won’t be able to if I know you’re unable to.”

With an exasperated sigh, you rolled back over, hips wiggling very innocently as you got comfortable, and yet in a way that had Eddie swallowing the thick knot in the back of his throat.

The past few days, being so close, sharing a bed — he’d said it would be easy, a simply platonic situation, but he’d felt anything but. Wanted so badly so many times to lean over and kiss you, to see if he nudged that part of your neck he’d discovered on Halloween night you’d make those pretty sounds he’d strum from you over and over again.

But he knew better. Respected your wishes and boundaries. Knew he wouldn’t press the matter unless you decided you wanted to take a leap again. He’d decided it from that moment weeks ago now, where you had suggested the two of you remain friends for the sake of Elena. The ball would remain in your court; forever, if you’d decided that was what you wanted.

With a thick swallow, Eddie raised his fingers up to your trapezius muscles, fingers curling around the breadth of them, thumbs digging into the space below. At the first deep exhale from your lips, he rubbed in circles, watching as your body slowly melted into the blankets further, breathing becoming deeper.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“What’s your favorite color?” you asked, and his cheek twitched.

It became a game of sorts these few weeks. Various questions intended for getting to know one another. Either him or you would pick a question or a topic and talk. Sometimes for hours a night, simply listening to the other. Eddie could listen to you prattle on for ages — had known as much some weeks ago now.

“Red,” he said, palms sliding down the planes of your back, grin curling upward at the breathy moan that left you. “What about you?”

“I’m not really sure,” you admitted, curling your palm beneath your head. “It kind of changes every day. Lately it’s yellow, but tomorrow it might be cornflower blue.”

“Cornflower blue, huh?” he chuckled, fingers digging into your lower back.

He mentally berated himself when your hips arched backward a bit, nearly falling into the cradle of his lap. Now wasn’t quite the time to get a hard on. It had been bad enough having to slip out of bed before you woke each morning before you realized the effect you had on him — an effect that went far beyond normal morning wood.

“What is one thing you wish you spent more time doing as a child?”

Eddie paused for a moment, chewing at his bottom lip. “I…maybe I’d have taken more pictures with my mom. I’d always been an asshole when she tried, especially when I got older. They always came out so blurry. The few pictures left of her I have are like that.”

Your fingers reached backward to circle his wrist, pausing him in his movements. “I’d like to see them sometime.”

“Definitely,” he promised, resuming his massage. “What about you?”

“Mmm, reading more books, probably. Funny, seeing as I’ve worked in a library setting for a few years now.” Your head turned over your shoulder. Eddie’s breath hitched at the softness behind your eyes. “If you could become a superhero, how would you like it to happen? Like…what’s your origin story. I feel like I’d want to have, I don’t know, realized I was impervious to fire or something. Would be pretty cool.”

“Easy,” Eddie said, mouth tipping into a smirk, “I plug into my amp, get a little electrocuted, get electric powers.”

“A true rock god.” You giggled, and it sounded like wind through the chimes you'd installed on the front porch. A swift punch to his gut, a hand wrapped tight around his heart.

You continued like that for another half hour. His fingers dragging long lines over your back, your eyes closed as you tossed question after question into the open air. Eventually, you began to drift. Body pulled further and further into an oncoming rest, yawns spilling from your gently parted lips.

For a while, you remained silent, and Eddie wondered if you’d fallen asleep. But you flipped over to face him, closer now than you had been before, and curled your palm beside your face. Close enough he could reach over and brush his lips along your every knuckle. Wanted to, he realized.

“If you could change that night. Halloween. Would you?”

He watched the worry as it crossed along your features, the fear over his answer to your question plaguing your mind. The question you’d been building up to with all the lighter ones. Exhaling deeply, he reached over and brushed his fingers along the back of your hand, head shaking slowly.

“No, because I’d have never met you. And with Elena, it’s not what we planned, sure. But…in getting to know you, I care about you so damn much, Buttercup. I like waking up to you humming in front of the coffee pot, waiting for it to finish brewing. Or when you yell at me for tossing something colored into the whites. I like cooking with you in the kitchen and I even like our couch talks when I rub your damn feet.” Your eyes, glittering with unshed tears, flickered up to his face, and he brushed the moisture collecting there from your bottom lash line. “You’re one of the most important people in my life now, I hope you realize.”

“You’re one of the most important people in mine,” you whispered back, lacing your fingers with his. “I think the massage worked, by the way.”

He smiled, watching your eyes start to droop a bit. “Tired?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, fingers tightening in his.

A long sigh spilled from you, eyes shutting, and he immediately missed the sight of them. The glow of your irises in the dark, uniquely yours, and strikingly beautiful. Gentle fingers lifted to run along your cheek, your breathing starting to even out a bit, becoming deeper with every passing second.

“Can I ask you one more question?” It was spoken quietly, so softly Eddie had almost nodded off himself when you’d finally asked.

“Anytime.”

“Can you hold me?”

Hesitant, you sounded so hesitant, fear of rejection evident in your voice. Another reason why he hated Paul. Because you’d deserved the world and he’d gone and taken advantage of your heart.

“Always,” he reassured, heart racing as you rolled over and shifted backward a bit, his own body coming to rest along your spine. Like this, your backside rested in the cradle of his hips, your head rested along his bicep tucked beneath a pillow, and his arm swooped low around your belly. “Is this good?”

He ached with the warmth of it. With the way you leaned down and nuzzled your head further into his arm, the way your body fitted perfectly against his, how you felt so relaxed and comforted by simply being near him. Beautiful. You were so damn beautiful, like a fucking angel in his arms, and he realized how lucky he was.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” you whispered.

With you in his arms, his hand splayed over where his daughter grew, he realized what he really held in that bed.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispered back, dropping the softest of kisses to your temple.

His family — not the one he’d been born with, and maybe not the perfected image of one, but family all the same.

He’d never take that for granted.

——

please let me know what you think. it quite literally makes my day, as well as other creatives, so just throwing that out there. i also have just loved talking to you all every week. it’s been the best. also, stay tuned for next week, with chapter six titled ‘the date.’ getting closer to the end here. 🩷🥹

#daylight!eddie #lunaloveseddie #eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #dad!eddie munson x pregnant!reader

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weeping-for-a-ship-isnt-enough · 13 days

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Sick Days In (Mr. Puzzles/Reader)

───── ⋆ ⋅ ⋆ ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ⋆ ⋅ ⋆ ─────

When the Reader gets sick and bedridden, Mr. Puzzles takes it upon himself to help cheer them up (with questionable suggestions).

Header by: @crypticscarecrow <3

Of course— of course! Today just had to be the day, didn't it? Of course your body decided that today, out of the other 365 days in the year, this day, had to be the day you had to be bedridden with a stuffy nose, raspy throat, itchy eyes, and pounding headache.

Never mind the plans you had for today, no! Forget everything you thought you were going to do today, because today, you were going to be in bed suffering with the thought of doing much more productive things than this right now.

Amazing! Awesome! POGGERS! FANTASTIC!

Ugh.

With yet another sniffle, you roll over in your messy bed and stare up at the ceiling, thinking of game plans to catch up with things for tomorrow. You know the gang is patient enough to not berate you in your state, some of them even checked up on you and brought you helpful things; but even then you feel awful for not being productive at all. Even if it wasn't your fault, the guilt overrides the feeling of reassurance from your friends.

On top of that, the fear of missing out is making your situation even worse. You promised you'd help SMG4 with a new video (3 is probably already helping in your absence), go out training with Meggy and Tari (they're probably already having a blast in the training grounds), and (oh god) help Mr. Puzzles with a new script.

Actually, you cannot see him making a script without you, ever since his rehabilitation and integration to the group, he hasn't spent a moment without you. You were his co-writer, his co-host, his co-director, you were all of his co-s! He refuses to not let you have a role in what he makes now. It's rather endearing...

You throw an arm over your eyes, shielding them from the bright light coming through your window.

Honestly, you're surprised he hasn't even texted you yet, yelling where you were and being as dramatic as possible about your disappearance. Knowing him, he's probably terrorizing the group to answer him about your whereabouts, instead of— y'know, checking in your room? He gets so dramatic that he can't even think of the obvious sometimes. But really, it's just charming to you, you laugh whenever it happens. The thought brings a smile to your face, feeling a tiny shine of happiness in your foul and frustrating mood. Funny how it happens, he's not even here and he still brings a smile to your face.

You sniffle again, feeling the gross sensation of your stuffy nose running down before instantly sitting up and getting another tissue for yourself. As you blow into it, a sudden brute force quite literally breaks down your bedroom door with a loud SLAM and CRASH. The sudden noise gives your head a pound of pain, making you flinch and groan loudly as you try to rub the feeling away. When you look up at the remains of your door, you spot none other than Mr. Drama Queen himself, with that crazy realistic look in his screen.

"Fuck! Puzzles!" You curse with a deep frown.

The TV man practically lunges himself to your bed, grabbing you by the shoulders and gripping them as hard as possible (not enough to cause you pain, though). Ignoring the tired and pissed off expression you wear, he leans in dangerously close to you and begins to scream in your face.

"WHO DID THIS TO YOU!? I SWEAR I WILL FIND WHOEVER DID THIS TO MY NUMBER ONE STAR AND KILL THEM—"

"Puzzles, I'm fine— Fuck's sake, stop being so loud, please," you whine at the man, letting yourself be limp to fall back on your pillow. Your attempts are futile, however, because of somebody's hands holding you in place. His screen changes to his crazed-off look, the one that isn't realistically made with eyes and lips but a wide colorful smile and deep shadows above his eyes.

"Well, you don't look fine! You've been in your room all day! You had poor little ol' me worried!"

"Ugh— I don't feel fine, but I am fine. Just a sick day, dude."

"That's why I must find whoever it is that made you contract this awful virus. Nobody gets to make my star actor feel awful and get away with it!" He hisses, slightly shaking you front and back.

This man.

You roll your eyes with an amused smile on your face, you bring your hand to his arm, quietly asking him to stop shaking you. Thankfully, he gets the message.

"Nobody purposefully gave me anything, Puzzles."

"That's what they want you to think." He says with a disdained look. He finally let's go of your shoulders after sitting you up more straight, not even letting you fall back on your bed. Instead, he sits besides you at the edge of your bed, his body and screen facing you directly.

"But— mystery solving aside, how are you feeling?" Mr. Puzzles smiles normally at you, as if just moments ago he didn't go psycho-crazy about killing whatever imaginary person made you sick.

"Like shit," you huff as you fall backwards, leaning against the pillows and the cold wall. A helpful chill to combat that fever (but probably not productive). "I've taken everything for it but it won't take effect until a few more hours."

"Yes, a rather lousy state to be in... That just means I can keep you company until you feel better!" He says in a very chirpy tone, crossing his legs and gently folding his hands together on his knees.

You scoff a smile. "Thanks, but— shouldn't you be working on that script? I don't think you'd like to see me sniffling and— blowing my nose all day."

"Nonsense! I insist. There's nothing I would love more than to bring your spirits up! Even if just a little bit. We can work on that script later when you feel in a better mood."

Your smile only widens, making the corner of your eyes lift and your eyebrows furrow into a softer, appreciative look.

"See! It's already working." The TV gestures at you, obviously proud of the fact he can make you smile.

You hum in agreement, sniffling right after. "Yeah... Thank you."

"Would you like to watch anything in particular?" He offers with a tilt of his head.

"Mm... The Book of Life?"

"Done!" He brings a hand up to his dials and turns one to his left, switching the channel to the movie requested by his favorite star.

As the beginning logos appear, you hum in thought; glancing down at his gloved hands, then back at him, you smile and tilt your head. "Do you want to know why I'm sick today?"

The movie in his face screen pauses, with the symbol on the top right and static lines glitching the image, but he doesn't turn it back to his face. "Very much so."

"Cats." You say with an amused smirk.

"... Cats?"

"I'm allergic to them. I pet one last night and I guess I didn't wash my hands well enough." You nonchalantly shrug.

After a second of silence, Mr. Puzzles' shoulders rise as if he's taking a deep breath and clasps his hands together, pointing his fingers right at you. "... What did the cat look like?"

"Turn the movie back on, I'm not telling you." You huff and scoot a little more to the left, leaving room for Mr. Puzzles to sit on the bed with criss-crossed legs.

"Fine." He reluctantly complies, but deep down you know he never minds playing movies for you. Not you. Never you.

#mr puzzles #mr puzzles smg4 #smg4 mr puzzles #mr puzzles x reader #mr puzzles/reader #smg4 #smg4 puzzlevision #x reader #/reader #puzzlevision arc #smg4 tv adware #ayyy first fic posttt #hope you enjoy <3 #i keep changing and editing a lot of things AND I WILL CONTINUE TO DO IT

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rendezvouz-fling · 1 year

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Astro Observations #19

• I’ve noticed a pattern with Air and Earth risings and their dads not physically being there in their lives or being away for long periods of time and staying for shorter periods of time.

• People with Gemini rising and mercury at Leo degrees (5, 17, 29) or with their 3rd house in Leo tend to be very animated, expressive storytellers and are great at mimicking others! If they’re into singing then they might be good at imitating the original singer of that song’s voice.

• They’re also good at making impressions of other people.😂 Same goes for Leo rising with mercury in Gemini degrees (3, 15, 27) or people with their 5H in Gemini!✨

• Another thing about people with Leo in their 3H is that they WILL be over the top or dramatic when they see fit!! I have this placement and I literally pretended to faint when I saw my mom about to hit me while holding the pan she was washing with her other hand when I was a kid.🤣

• Capricorn moon kids aren’t the mini adults I see a lot of people stereotyping especially when they have Air/Fire in their charts. 🧐 Yes they might become very responsible as kids but they can also be the loud charming ones with the funniest laughs!😂

• Most 70s music/dance show hosts had prominent Scorpio/Libra placements with a dash of Aquarius energy! E.g. Dick Clark a 70s/80s show host from American Bandstand was a Scorpio moon/venus/rising & his sun was at 7 (Libra) degree while his rising was at 11 (Aquarius) degree!! And Don Cornelius the creator and show host of Soul Train throughout 3 decades was a Libra sun/mercury/venus with an Aquarius moon at 20 (Scorpio) degree!!🤎

• They also had inner planets at 28 degree!✨

• I’ve noticed some people with Fire venuses don’t get along with their dads that much, some of them had more of the ‘tough love’ type fathers.

• The reason most air moons seem to be emotionally aloof especially Aquarius moons, is because at some point in their lives they might’ve been shown that the only way to get by is by intellect and logic. They might’ve also been told as kids that they’re being too emotional and to stop crying/being upset.

• Another is because they’ve adapted to bottling up their emotions all the time that they might not know a way to express them openly and might just internalize it.

• Earth mars artists from the late 70s/early 80s were your go-to, classic R&B artists!! E.g. Patrice Rushen, Bobby DeBarge from Switch & Teena Marie are all Capricorn mars. Tommy DeBarge from Switch, Rick James and Donna Summer were all Virgo mars. Bunny DeBarge from DeBarge & Wayne Cooper from Cameo are both Taurus mars. 🍂

• If you feel like some placements in your composite don’t really add up with your relationship then check your Davison chart because I promise it’ll feel more accurate!

• Gemini suns with Sagittarius moons are very talkative and seem so feisty!😭

• Saturn doms have very attractive/prominent body shapes!

• Aquarius suns with Aquarius mercuries are funny without trying. ✋🏽😂

• Pisces suns with Aquarius mercuries and Aries venuses be literally taking the words out my mouth and say some of the meanest things!🤣

• Aries mercuries will literally say mean things before laughing and then hit you with the “What? It’s true.”😭🤣

• Fire mars men are built different!😭 Their height/weight might often trick people into thinking they’re soft but they are SO strong.

• Venus doms, how does it feel to get more beautiful every day?

• Mercurial risings kill me!😭 Virgo risings have a hilarious sometimes dry or more introverted humor while Gemini risings can be all over the place cracking jokes and exaggerating things lol.

• What’s with 5H suns and having a thing for verbal expressions. They’re literally the types to imitate a sound track when they’re explaining things.😭😭😭

• Some Gemini risings tend to have a signature laugh or people might point out/compliment their laughter often.

• They might also have them crazy laughs too and you’ll notice it specifically when you get close to them.🤣

• That one Aquarius moon family member 🤝 every other family member always going to them when they have problems with their technology or doing something online.

• Aries venus is that one cousin that will be spontaneous and very funny when you’re both good but will mean mug and say hurtful things to you/about you when you’re not on good terms anymore.😭

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hotchfiles · 5 months

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divine rush.

⋅☆⋅ mrsaluado's first xmas event ⋅☆⋅ masterlist

pairing: sirius x fem!reader.

summary: sirius is just very very nervous to meet your parents.

content warnings: maybe underage drinking lol but just fluff

word count: 1,4k

"oh my, you do not look well, pads." that was probably not the best way you greet your boyfriend as soon as you open the door to your home, but it got you by surprise how red and sweaty he looked, he wasn't the type to get sick and he looked absolutely feverish. "are you alright?" you touched his forehead with the back of your hand terribly worried about the boy in front of you.

"i'm fine! just... nervous." sirius replied, his teeth clenched as his eyes traveled to the room behind you. so that was it. you smiled back at him, holding his hand to finally pull him into your house, to meet your parents for the first time.

"you're quite charming, nothing to worry, babe."

"don't think being a good kisser's gonna work on your old man." you laughed out loud but you weren't sure he was actually trying to be funny, his eyes still roaming around your parents' house.

it was a decent middle class family house, not nearly as big as his own, or even the potter's one, where he had been living for the past year. still, it reminded him of his best mate's home in the best way possible: it felt like home. your little cousins were running around, no one telling them it was impolite to do that. most of your family were casually dressed and had christmas hats with the family's last name embroidered.

it was easy to see why you were so loving and understanding and for a second he envied you, the same way he envied james. he had spent so many years feeling like christmas was just a day family got together to make their highest efforts to look and seem better, more successful and richer than the others. worrying if his clothes were alright or if his mum was going to yell at him for it. arrogance was really the only things uniting his family and for a while he thought that was how it was for everyone.

"dad's been doing literal shots of spiked eggnogg, you could try the kissing." that finally got his attention back to you, a boyish grin taking over his beautiful face, following up with the quickest of kisses, his lips barely touching yours.

you nodded and were about to take him to the kitchen to meet everyone, especially your mum and dad, but your mother was quick to notice you both were taking a while at the door, going to you to see if everything was alright.

"merlin, aren't you dashing?" was her literal first words to sirius, excited her daughter had been dating such a beautiful boy, "where's the tattoos?" he was confused for a moment, his arms covered up with his coat, but he gave his hands so your mum could see it, his eyes looking straight at you trying hard to understand what was going on, you simply shrugged, like you had no idea and no involvment in that.

of course you did, you had mentioned to your parents he had quite a few and that he probably would be nervous about it so your mother thought the best way to make him ease up was just to put him on the spot immediately. good intentions, not the best execution.

still, he was getting less nervous by the second, your mother was a blabber mouth, she could talk with a rock, it felt you blinked for a second and she was already pushing him to the kitchen, taking one of the red embroidered christmas hats and fitting it on his head just before she herself introduced the boy to her sisters, who also had no problem showering him with compliments, you followed close behind, trying to hold in how amused you were and when you got to your dad, your mum went to his side, waiting for you to do your part.

"this is sirius, dad, sirius black, the boyfriend i've been telling you about." the fact you talked about him to your parents seemingly so many times had him die and come back mentally about three times before offering his hand so your dad could shake.

your dad gladly did, again, asking him all sorts of questions, about his tattoos, about motorbikes and music and what kind of food did he like. all questions about him and him only, not about his family, not about his blood, not about his name nor money. just him, what he liked, what hogwarts classes was he good at, what quidditch team did he support.

all training he had done as a child on how to behave correctly at family parties showed completely useless as the men of your family fought about who was going to win the quidditch world cup and the women tried to secretly talk about their sex life to one another but were all a bit tipsy on wine to really notice how loud they were.

your dad even offered you both eggnogg, and before any of you could drink it, he got a bottle of firewhisky, already half empty, and added barely a shot to each, his finger going over his lips asking for secrecy, but your mother obviously noticed it. "you're not trying to get the boy drunk, are you?"

"sweetums, let the kids have some fun, it's christmas!" he argued, knowing very well the amount of alcohol he had added wasn't going to do much but that it would be enough for him to create a cool father-in-law image.

you were in heaven, every time you felt sirius' hand brush on yours softly, showing you he was fine as he talked so happily to your family you felt your heart getting fuller and fuller of love for him. at the end of the night his coat was nowhere to be seen, he had leftover containers to take back to the potters and his arms were very very colorful after he decided to let your cousins paint his tattoos.

your parents offered the guest room so he wouldn't have to leave, although he would have to share it with other family guests, but he didn't want to impose so much just yet.

and when it was only the both of you, before he left, sirius took you in the most passionate and grateful of kisses. "i want this for us, doll face, so much."

"what do you mean?" you looked up at him confused, your arms over his shoulders.

"family... this freedom, kids running around, spiking the boyfriend's eggnogg... i hope we get to where your parents are." you could try to hold your emotions, you could try not to cry, but you knew it would be impossible, so you just let your eyes water and put your head on his chest.

you hoped so too, and hearing him say those things gave you a sense of certainty that one day it would be you both having your kid's partner over for christmas, and that thought on its own made that night one of the best of your life up to now.

#lari writes xmas #lari writes sometimes #marauders x reader #sirius x you #sirius x reader #sirius x y/n #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black imagine #sirius black scenario #still working on his fancast i just know it aint ben barnes

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lovingperfectionsblog · 2 years

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A Feisty Woman

Max Verstappen x Reader

Request: hi babes how about a fic where the reader is in a relationship with max, and she's like a bad, confident bitch who likes to do whatever she likes. she likes to dress up, show skin and whatever she pleases; but max is confident, he likes that about her, he doesn't mind that other people get to see who only HE sleeps with at night. And other people ask him about it, but he's like why would any of the stuff I fell in love with about her bother me.

Summary: Max gets questioned about you in an interview and gives a surprising response.

Warnings: Language, mentions of sexual activity.

Word Count: 1363

Authors note: I absolutely love men who just stand by their authentic partners and celebrate them for who they are and are protective of them is just absolute top notch for me <3 Slightly shorter than usual but I hope you all enjoy 😊

_____

“So Max, would it be okay if we moved onto something a little ore personal then?”

“By all means”

“Forgive me for saying this, but your relationship as seen some controversiy so far hasn’t it”

Max couldn’t help but laugh at the question.

“How did I know it was going to be about my relationship”

“You’re not exactly dating someone who generally follows the conventions around the paddock”

“What do you mean by the conventions around the paddock?”

Max knew exactly what he meant, but he wanted to hear him say it. He wanted to hear him find a polite way of saying he thought that Max’s girlfriend dressed inappropriately and seemed a bit too forward.

That’s what everyone said.

“Well, the other WAGs are slightly more, and please know I don’t mean this in a disrespectful way, but they tend to be a bit more conservative, less loud, less out there, more reserved you know?”

“And look how it turned out with the last woman I dated that was like that. I need someone who can take me on, someone strong, someone who doesn’t stand for any shit and takes what she rightfully deserves.”

“And it doesn’t bug you?”

“What? Dating a feisty woman? It most certainly does not, again, like I’ve said, I need someone like her.”

He had meant that. You were like no one he had ever experienced before and finally he found a personal who could truly challenge him in the best of ways. A woman who stood up for herself and her beliefs and was authentic no matter what. Someone who didn’t just, go along with whatever he said. Someone he was sure of. Someone who didn’t just want him because he was the Max Verstappen. Someone who honestly actually didn’t care about any of it.

Just of him.

“Oh, no, I mean, how she dresses and behaves?”

“Is there a reason I should be bugged be it?”

“Well, it isn’t exactly reserved is it?”

“And why is that something that should bug me?”

“Well, wouldn’t you want your woman to kind of just dress like that for you?”

“And not show all of that off? It would be an actual crime. And on top of it, there is plenty she isn’t showing the public. Plenty which is reserved just for me and our home and our bed.”

“Oh no, listen,-“

“No, you listen, what my girlfriend does is her business. All that’s important is that her and I are loyal to each other. While I’m here, lets actually properly get into this. She is an educated, confident, loving, witty, funny, charming, loyal, and passionate woman, and so goddamn beautiful, fuck, I could go on forever listing every good fucking quality about her, but all anyone is focused on is how she dresses and how much skin she’s showing. There are so few woman out there who are confident in who they are, Christ, there are so few people who are confident in who they are and we want to ruin the ones who already are? No, enough, I love her, all of her. She has literally encouraged me to be more sure of myself and honestly made me love myself more than I ever thought possible simply because she is brave enough to be who she is. Because despite what everyone else says and how ever many hits she takes in the media from journalists like you, she loves herself relentlessly and that is what matters to me”

“Max, I am sorry, I didn’t mean to offend-“

“No this interview is done. No more about my girlfriend yeah?”

Max didn’t even give the journalist a moment to respond, simply getting up to make his way back to the paddock, done with conversations around his personal life and more importantly, you.

He knew he was going to get an earful from his media team, knew that he was meant to invite the public into more of his life, to build a better brand away from the angry Max Verstappen on track, but no way was he going to do that if this is what you had to endure because of it.

And lord knows he wasn’t going to lose you because people were too invested in how you dressed.

_____

“So, I saw the latest interview” you spoke gently as you carded your fingers through Max’s hair, feeling him soften into you as he lay with his head on your chest.

“Jesus Christ” he was so thankful once he had returned to the hotel that evening to find you there, warm, safe, everything he had needed after a day like today.

“The liberal girlfriend who dresses too slutty” you laughed to yourself, shocked that this is all the media had chosen to focus on and pick apart, yet still feeling a slight insecurity creeping up, concerned that, despite all Max had said, he maybe felt the same underneath it all.

“God I fucking hate that word, hate that this is what you’re called” his grip tightened around you, trying to convey every ounce of protectiveness to you that he felt, and if that meant trapping you in his grip for the moment, then so be it.

“If you want, I can dress a little different from now on” you broached the topic with him, not exactly wanting to change how you portrayed yourself, but willing to if it gave him some reprieve. ‘

“Don’t you fucking dare change who you are because of some bullshit journalists who don’t know anything about you. I love you. As you are. Please, do not change a single thing about you and plus, you wear what you want because I know how to fight.” he didn’t intend to sound so forceful, but he needed you to know that this, who you were, was always more than enough for him and he never ever intended on going for less ever again.

“Plus, and as much as I hate them calling you a slut, it wasn’t the word I was referring to” he was looking at you now, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

“And what word were you referring to then love?” confusing on yours in contrast.

“Girlfriend”

“What are they meant to call me then?” God he loved feeling you laugh almost as much as hearing it.

“My fiancé” the seriousness was just as evident in his voice as the playfulness was, so much so that it shocked you into silence, although you didn’t want to push Max too quickly, you’d wanted nothing more than to marry him.

“Are you saying you want me to marry you there handsome?” neither of you averting your eyes, dancing along a thin line between seriousness and joking.

“Oh, it is definitely in the works I can promise you that” and it was a promise he was keeping, with full knowledge that the ring was busy being made and should be ready for him next week to collect.

“Sure you can handle your wife wearing such revealing clothing?” you gave a little side eye as you began to move your hand lower along his chest.

Max leaned in, lips brushing against yours, a poor attempt from him at preventing the shiver running down his spine as he felt your nails gently grazing his skin, desperate for the moment he felt them along the band of his underwear.

“I fully intend for the first month that we are married to make sure that neither of us wear any clothing at all” his eyes suddenly focused on the strap of your shirt, gently edging it down your shoulder.

“And I think we should start getting used to it now, don’t you think?”

#max verstappen #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #monaco #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you #f1 one shot #formula one x reader #formula 1 #Max Vertsappen x reader #Max verstappen #x reader

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welcometothejianghu · 3 months

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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 民国奇探/My Roommate is a Detective.

My Roommate is a Detective is a 2020 drama about the Jazz Age shenanigans of a terrible OT3: a useless noodle boy, a spoiled journalist girl, and a handsome thug-turned-cop, who together solve Agatha Christie mysteries in 1920s Shanghai.

I mean, seriously, have you ever wondered what Hercule Poirot would be like if he were a 6'2" Chinese rubber man? If he had a long-suffering sugar daddy from the wrong side of the tracks and a spunky sugar mommy who owned their shared apartment? The answer is, it would be a laugh-out-loud-funny series about a ridiculous and charming assortment of weirdos solving only slightly believable murder mysteries in charming period clothing.

This is another one of those shows where I'm kind of shocked at how not well-known it is, except I'm not, because I can see exactly the problems that keep fandom from descending on it like horny little vultures. Nonetheless, I think it's a good time that more people would enjoy if they gave it the chance. Here's five reasons why you should:

1. Equal parts smart as heck and dumb as butts

On the one hand, especially given its tone and tenor, this show has many surprisingly clever turns and thoughtful moments, carried along by some talented actors. On the other hand, [.gif of a guinea pig in a rollerskate being pushed merrily down a hallway]

This show is not a complicated intellectual exercise. It's an action comedy about a goofy sleuth, a rich-girl reporter, and the cop who should be the straight man in this trio, except he's as much of a goober as the other two are. If the promotional tableaus are giving you real "cover of a Clue box" vibes, you've understood the kind of pastiche it's pulling off.

The mysteries are preposterous. They're all the kind of thing that exemplify the Doyle line about how, when you've eliminated the impossible, whatever's left has got to be the answer, no matter how ding-dang improbable it may be. You know the type: tons of overly elaborate setups, unbelievably perfect timing, coincidental long-lost relatives, people hallucinating right and left. They're also very short -- most full cases take only 2-3 episodes to introduce, investigate, and resolve, even when interspersed with the larger goings-on in these weirdos' lives. The DramaWiki page for the show lists 23 separate arcs over 36 episodes, so you do the math.

And yet, it's way more thoughtful and clever than its doofy little setup would indicate. Its attention to detail surprised me on more than one occasion. Add to that a bunch of solid performances from an ensemble of real characters, and what you get is definitely more substantive than a junk-food waste of time. You can't turn your brain off while watching it, but you sure can turn it down, and that's great.

It also doesn't hurt that everyone is super attractive and wearing great outfits. The whole show's worth it for the wardrobes.

2. THE GIRL

Fuck the haters, fuck everyone, I am going to climb right up on my little soapbox and tell you all why Bai Youning is awesome.

She is insane. She's a troll. She's a clever little monster. Every other character's response to her is, oh my god, you are literally the worst. And she is! She has been spoiled beyond belief by her incredibly rich Crime Dad, and she has learned to leverage her uwu just a widdle girl status to get her whatever the hell she wants. She simply cannot hear it when someone says the word "no." She will look her future sister-in-law in the eye and point a loaded gun at her own head without blinking. Every ball she has is made of brass.

She's hardly perfect. During the course of the show, there are some times where her entitlement runs face-first into the brick wall of reality. She's not nearly as good at her chosen career path as she's been told (mostly by the people who get paid to tell her she's good). She's rarely prepared to deal with the consequences of her actions, especially when she can't just throw money at the problem.

So she learns, and grows, and changes. She's always going to be a stubborn bitch, but she can become a stubborn bitch with a more accurate conception of her relationship to the world around her.

She's actually a really good romantic foil for Lu Yao, who is equally stubborn and spoiled and obnoxious as hell. It is a pure brat4brat relationship, where each one thrives on comically enraging the other. What this means, though, is that when they actually start showing one another some vulnerability, it's really sweet.

Now: I'm pretty sure that you could not have made a female character in her position that everyone did not hate, no matter how cool you made her, because that is the fate of all girls who theoretically keep the two boys from kissing. (More on that next point.) If she were less outgoing and friendly, she would've been hated for being too cold. If she were less headstrong, she would've been hated for being a pushover. If she weren't as into the boy, she would've been hated for being frigid. I know the "god forbid a woman do anything" meme is a joke, but ... man, god forbid this girl do anything. She gets a level of hate entirely disproportionate to what she's actually like. As I said with Eom Dada, it's not always sexism, but sometimes, yeah, it's sexism.

(Real talk: Her character is also fighting both how she's definitely not written as well as the boys are and how the plot sometimes needs her to be artificially stupid and jealous for Straightness Drama Reasons, so that's a legit problem on a structural level. Also, she's dubbed by someone else and the boys aren't, which gives her voice an annoying not-quite-there quality that's hard to ignore. The deck is stacked against her real hard even before she steps onscreen.)

So here's my advice: Go into this show wanting to like her. Embrace her terribleness as a positive, intentional quality. Don't be mad at her for straightening up an endgame that was never going to be gay, even without her. Welcome her contributions to the chaos. Realize that she is exactly as entertainingly irritating as her boys are.

Truly, this is a story of three terrible people in love. They're all just awful, and you wouldn't want to be in a room with any of them for longer than you had to. Left to right up there, Bai Youning is spoiled and self-absorbed, Lu Yao is arrogant and lazy, and Qiao Chusheng is suuuuuch a fucking cop. If you're into the kind of dynamic that can only be described OT3: You All Deserve One Another, then this one's perfect for you.

3. Do you really miss '00s queerbaiting?

Like, really? Are you just super-nostalgic for being able to see the showrunners go, ha ha, girls, we know you're watching and we know you want these cute boys to kiss, which they never will -- but what if we pretended for just this one scene??? Do you just carnally ache for that with every fiber of your being?

Yep.

Now, why am I calling the occasional really gay moments between these two gentlemen "queerbaiting" and not "bromance"? Because these moments are a) obviously intentional, b) completely sporadic, and c) never spoken of again.

For example: There's a scene (which you can see a gifset of here) where the two of them are at a restaurant frequented by the cop, who brings a lot of ladies there on dates. When the waiter points this out, useless noodle boy says, I'm his date. The waiter looks mildly surprised by this, the cop says not to listen to his bullshit, and that's the end of it. The scene moves on. There is no further discussion of this comment. It does not affect their relationship.

That's the essence of queerbaiting: that little on-purpose nod to the homoerotic tension between the two, in a way that isn't a joke but also isn't not a joke, and either way is never going to happen. (In fact, the show is going to go out of its way to make sure that ship gets sunk, so, uh, get your fanfiction lifeboats ready for that.)

A true queerbaiting move is something that should make a difference in a relationship, but doesn't. It should make a difference that our cop is so comfortable in the noodle boy's personal space that he invades it at will. It doesn't. It should make a difference that noodle boy keeps getting real weird every time the cop has a date with a girl. It doesn't. Those are some real romantic moves the two of them keep pulling, and then nothing comes of them.

I had this show sold to me as being incredibly shippy, to the point of being even more so than its censored-BL contemporaries. And ... well, it is and it isn't. It has textually gayer individual moments, but it is much less pervasively gay. It's clear from the start that it's going to throw all its actual relationship points into its canon het romance. When it comes to these boys, the show is toying with you. It knows you want to see those boys smooch, just as much as it knows (and it knows you know) they're never gonna.

How you feel about this is entirely up to you -- and indeed, it may be a dealbreaker on the whole drama for you. If you are inclined to pitch a fit when your ship does not become canon, you'll be happier somewhere else. If, however, you see this as a delightful opportunity to do whatever the hell you want with the situation as it is presented, all the while enjoying little moments of startlingly blatant homoeroticism between two handsome dudes, well, here you are!

(I mean, if you want my take on it, what needs to happen is that the cop and the girl need to fuck while the useless noodle boy watches with asexual bisexual interest, and then they all need to snuggle with the noodle boy in the middle so they can both annoy him appropriately, but your mileage may vary.)

4. The multicultural extravaganza!

1920s Shanghai had a lot going on in terms of cultures and languages, and this show actually does a fair job of representing that.

By now, I've seen a number of shows set during this era, and they all at least acknowledge the international nature of the city -- usually by mentioning the French Concession and having a handful of evil Japanese characters. However, this is the first time I've seen a show go to such lengths to actually show so many non-Chinese characters onscreen, even to the point of making one a recurring character supporting the main squad.

Salim is the best. Whatever he is being paid, it's not enough. He's Qiao Chusheng's right-hand man, which means he is also the dude who most often has to put up the main trio's bullshit. (The actor himself is also a dude with a pretty cool backstory, which is another great layer.) He's sharp, he's loyal, he's patient, and he looks great with his shirt off. He's got it all!

Other non-Chinese characters include a white Jewish art collector (I'd issue a warning for period-typical antisemitism, except … honestly, it's mostly just confused), a sadistic priest who maybe is supposed to be Italian, a completely different priest who [last episode spoiler], and three whole sinister white dudes behind it all.

It's not just the world coming to China, though! A large number of the Chinese characters are said to have spent significant time outside of China, whether for business or for schooling. Near the end, when some characters are discussing moving away from Shanghai, they consider a number of foreign cities as potential destinations.

Here's a delightful detail: When Lu Yao and his sister speak English, they're dubbed by actors with posh British accents who sound like native (or near-native) English-speakers. This makes perfect sense, because both of the siblings did a lot of their schooling in the UK. When Bai Youning speaks English, she's dubbed by someone who speaks English very well but also has a noticeable Chinese accent, which makes perfect sense for her character's background. And Qiao Chusheng never speaks English at all, because he's a street tough who has no reason to know more than three words.

...This is also kind of weird to say about something literally made in China, but go with me on it: Everything's kind of got that Art Deco Orientalist vibe to it. It looks like China's idea of what Britain's idea of China during that period would have looked like. The result comes across less like what 1920s Shanghai would actually have looked like, and more what an ad for 1920s Shanghai would have looked like. It's a fascinating aesthetic, and more so for how it's mostly pretty subtle. The show isn't some visual extravaganza, but it's always very nice to look at, and I appreciate that in a show.

5. A wonderful horrible protagonist

A lot of mystery-themed prestige television involves an asshole genius detective who gets away with being a dick to everyone because he's sooooo smart, while all his long-suffering friends and colleagues spend a lot of time doing damage control for him because, sigh, he's an asshole but we need him, genius excuses all dickhead behavior, we'll always make exceptions for him because he's just ever so special. (Watch histrionic sage hbomberguy's video on Sherlock if you're unfamiliar with the trope.)

Lu Yao is an asshole genius detective, but one who winds up spending most of his time being an asshole to a) people who deserve it, or b) his horrible friends who will be assholes right back at him. When he is awful to the people who don't deserve it, the show smacks him pretty hard on the nose for it and makes him apologize.

This is a show where you'll figure out pretty quckly if you'll love it or hate it, because if you love Lu Yao, you'll love it, and vice versa. He carries most of the show himself, with his goofy charm and his incredibly bendy slenderman body and his ability to make the one competent person he knows both protect him and give him money.

Like so.

For my own part, I find him intensely charming, and I think a lot of this has to do with Hu Yitian's ability to play him as an affectionately bullyable weenie who needs to get shoved in a locker for his own good. He's the worst, and it's comically endearing instead of offputting because at the end of the day, he really does have a good heart. He's just also lazy as heck and disinclined to do anything that he does not want to be doing, and really, aren't we all?

As I alluded to in point 3, he comes across as real asexual. He's just not that interested in sex, and he is in fact pretty uncomfortable in situations where he finds himself the subject of someone else's sexual desires. He's perfectly capable of romantic feelings! I mean, not only does he get Bai Youning as a love interest, we actually meet one of his ex-girlfriends. He's just not partciularly horny about them -- which is even more noticeable as a sharp contrast to how extremely horny Qiao Chusheng is for just about everyone, but this exasperating little dork in particular.

(Like seriously, 90% of the time, Chusheng is about to explode with sexual frustration at Lu Yao's skinny oblivious ass.)

This isn't to say you couldn't get Lu Yao into bed, because you absolutely could, and he'd probably have a good time. You'd just have to remove all distractions from the room, lest his ADHD ass wind up running off to solve a crime mid-coitus.

Twiggy little nightmare man. Garbage-animal boy. Love him.

sidebar: A word about the ending

I'm going to be vague and talk about general vibes instead of specific events, but you should still skip this section if you want to remain completely unspoiled. Jump to the picture of Chusheng holding the sledgehammer.

Okay, so, a lot of people do not like the ending, and I'm including myself in that number. I honestly don't know if they got rushed and had to wrap everything pretty last-minute, or if they thought they might get a second season out of it and were leaving things open-ended accordingly. Either way, it's incredibly unsatisfying.

I think there's a clue that the show didn't actually want to end this way, and it's not actually in the text of the show itself. Every episode, between the last scene and the start of the credits, you get to see a couple still frames from the episode (usually some of the queerbaity ones). After the very final shot of the series, you get two images: the boys hugging goodbye, and Chusheng's upset face. That's not a resolution! That is at best a "to be continued..." ending!

But no, that's it. That's all, folks.

It's not quite an ending so bad it ruins the rest of the show, mostly because it doesn't feel finished, so it's less like you're watching a car being deliberately driven into a wall because someone thought that was the best route to take, and more like you're watching someone leave a car on the railroad tracks because they figured they'd have time to move it later.

As far as I know, there has been no noise made about a second season. These 36 episodes are the entirety of the narrative. It had the distinct misfortune to start airing in March 2020, which wasn't exactly prime time for planning sequels, and that seems to have been that. (There is a 2022 show called Checkmate that stars the two main guys in extremely similar roles, also adapting Agatha Christie stories, but it's apparently pretty meh? Somebody else who's actually seen it, go ahead and weigh in here.)

I'll say that if you turn off the episode right after Lu Yao gets out the handcuffs, you'll save yourself the worst of it the awkward and unsatisfying moments (though I'm impressed at your willpower to stop watching something five minutes from the end). That's not all of it, though. Structurally, there are several situations rushed to a resolution and loose threads left flapping untied in the breeze. I guess stopping before the last five minutes simply saves you the hope that it'll pull a good ending out of the fire, because it won't.

And let's be real: The more you hate Bai Youning and her romance with Lu Yao, the more you'll hate the ending. (Not that liking those elements will necessarily make you like the ending, of course, because I'm a fan of hers and I still think the ending is butts.) The ending is already like a pair of uncomfortable shoes; if the het romance especially makes you grind your teeth, the ending becomes a pair of uncomfortable shoes that also have a rock in them. A lot of the comments online indicate plenty of people dropped the show when they learned the het romance would be endgame. It's a pretty common dealbreaker.

Oh well. Bring on the fanfic, I say! Those of us who are used to taking a sledgehammer to canon are unafraid.

Smash it, baby.

Still want to see some of these mysteries?

Both iQiyi and Viki have the answer to your sleuthing!

It's not a perfect show -- as evidenced by my digression about the ending -- but it's a lot of fun. If you can handle the occasional foible and some eyebrow-raising moments, you're in for a good time with some attractive people that occasionally tastes very gay.

Every roommate crazy 'bout a sharp-dressed man

#my roommate is a detective #民国奇探 #rec post #i made this

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haesunflower · 11 months

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zb1 accidentally breaks something you gave them .....₊˚⊹♡

genre: fluff/comedy (it's funny imo)

pairing: reader (gn) x zerobaseone

about/tags: they accidentally break something you made/gifted

inspired by this quick ask prompt, yujin not here but he's in the quick ask, it's mostly cute don't worry, there's no angst

hides it for as long as possible : gyuvin & ricky

when gyuvin accidentally dropped the little ceramic mug you made together during pottery class he literally gasps out loud. he picks up the pieces quietly and stores it in a container so he could figure out how to piece it back together. when you ask him about where it went he sorta goes like "aha about that..." while scratching the back of his head.

meanwhile ricky got lucky with this one because he knows exactly where to buy the watch you gave him. when he gets to the store, he feels terrible when he sees the price tag – now fully knowing how much you paid for this. so instead of buying a replacement watch, he has it repaired (even though it comes out more expensive that way) just so that he can say that this is still the same watch you got him for his birthday. you never find out it was broken at some point.

tries to fix it himself: hanbin & taerae

after working on it for several hours, hanbin is still busy gluing all the major pieces of the vase you bought him when you suddenly arrive home. "y/n...you're here early ha ha" he laughs aloof and plasters a huge nervous smile on his face, hoping you're not too mad about it. you can't be mad at him because he's trying his best to fix it :(

meanwhile taerae is the complete opposite in terms of disposition and is 100% panicking about trying to fix the snowglobe you got him. rather than actually fixing it, he's staring at all the pieces wondering and contemplating where he went wrong. you find him on the floor next to all the pieces and materials he needs to put it back together. he looks up at you with big doe eyes and says "sweetie i can explain..." as if it's the worst thing you caught him doing. you giggle a little and help him put it back together.

comes clean and apologizes: gunwook & hao

he thinks honesty is the best policy, so when gunwook comes softly knocking at your door with the broken cd in hand you're a little dumbfounded. like, how do you break a cd mixtape in half?? he explains that he had to wrestle gyuvin's dog because he had it in his mouth. but he says that so deadpan you can't help but laugh at his face. gunwook is still looking at you like 😕 "no y/n this is serious and i'm sorry i wasn't taking care of it"

like gunwook, hao tells you right away because he doesn't want you to feel some typa way about it. he shows you the worn out shoes (rather, only the one for the right foot) you got him on your first year of dating, and how he must have lost or forgot to pack the left shoe while he was preparing to go back from Japan. you examine the shoe and you ask him why he still keeps it when the soles are practically falling off already. he says he keeps it as a goodluck charm and he's pretty sad he lost the other pair. you kiss him on the cheek because he's so cute about it :(

you're at the scene of the crime when it happens: matthew & jiwoong

you're chasing each other around the house for the remote when matthew accidentally knocks over the framed collage you made for him on your anniversary. you both look at each other like 😳 for a few seconds before he finally picks it up to examine it. "luckily, it's just the frame that broke y/n. very fixable" and while he's distracted you steal the remote from his pocket lololol

on the flip side, jiwoong's tactic is ~ distraction ~ when you hear a loud clash come from the garage. the motorcycle you gifted to him for your wedding fell to one side, causing one of the mirrors to break. but when you check up on him in the garage he's all like "hey baby what are you doing here?" whilst chucking the broken side mirror under the car so you don't see it. he's walking over to you quickly so you don't see the mess behind him, and says stuff like "new shirt baby? it looks great. let's go inside now" as he directs you to go back inside.

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matthias-the-tulip · 10 months

Text

my updated list of parts i hope they keep in the red, white & royal blue movie

(updated after i reread it in a day) (a lot of these are just funny lines that add absolutely nothing to the plot but they make me laugh)

• the MAGAZINE 😭

• “he has the personality of a cabbage.”

• “i want to hear you gush like he's your fucking prom date.”

• alex makes a long loud fart noise 

• “i'm going to throw up on you” at the stables (doesn't look like they're at a stables in the trailer 😒)

• “i'd rather be waterboarded” also at the stables (again, doesn't look like they're at a stables)

• “i bet he has a secret lovechild,” nora says. “or he's gay. or he has a secret gay lovechild.”

“it's probably in case i see his equerry putting his batteries back in,” alex says.

• midnight ice cream on instagram

• “i didn't know you wore glasses.” (henry's wearing a suit not pyjamas and alex is not wearing glasses what's that all about!)

• awkward fist bump on “this morning” (does not look like it’s a chat show in the trailer but also would a royal even go on this morning)

• star wars stan henry 🥹

• “not impressed, just surprised.”

“at what?”

“that you actually have, you know, feelings.”

• henry is beginning to smile…

• “do you MIND?” in the cupboard at the hospital

• “you're not the prince of me” 😭

• “i'd rather not be the little spoon.”

• henry's feet in a mop bucket

• “locked in a cupboard with your elbow inside my rib cage.”

• “i cannot believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are.”

• “are you psychoanalysing me? i don't think royal guests are allowed to do that.”

• “is that the time you threatened to push me into the thames?”

• “no booty calls.”

• “it was like you were trying to set him on fire with your mind.”

• june's (nora now i guess 😟) plot to murder woody allen

• “don't let the papers print lies about me after i've garroted myself with my tie.”

• “you are the thistle in the tender and sensitive arse crack of my life.”

• “yes, famously the most sinister of all animal sounds, the gobble.”

• “cornbread knows my sins.”

• the whole turkey situation really

• “buy a summer home in majorca with the turkey”

• MR WOBBLES

• “jabba” cakes.

• henry watching bake off

• “you're jeff goldblum”

• “yo there's a bond marathon on and did you know your dad was a total babe”.

“I BEG YOU TO NOT”

• “it sounds like you did your best.” 🥹

• the new year’s party being referred to as “the legendary balls-out bananas white house trio new year's eve party” (white house duo now 😭)

• “please do not attempt to steal my shine. you will fail and i will be embarrassed for you.”

• “says prince fucking charming.”

• get low playing at the new year’s eve party

• alex’s reaction to get low playing at the new year’s eve party

• “christ, you are as thick as it gets.”

• alex falling while running with june (nora now i guess 😟) cause he was thinking about henry

• “he's gay and you're hot, so.”

• “still waters, deep dicking.”

• “prince henry is a biscuit,” nora says, “let him sop you up.”

• they know each other's sleep schedule and alex gets in a bad mood when he doesn't talk to him 🥹

• “you're not going to kill him, are you?” she says. “probably not,” alex tells her

• “shut up, shut all the way up, oh my god”

• alex pushing henry up against a wall!

• “i mean, er, should we, i dunno, slow down?”henry says, cringing so hard at himself that one eye closes. “go for dinner first, or-“

• hooking one knee around the back of alex's thigh 😉

• ”i'm going to die,” henry says helplessly.

“i'm going to kill you,” alex tells him.

“yes, you are,” henry agrees.

• alex fixing his hair for him 😢😢😢

• henry singing god save the queen (king i guess) to make his 🍆 go away

• “i am going to do very bad things to you, and if you fucking ghost me again, i’m going to get you put on a fucking no-fly list. got it?”

• “you were jealous,” alex says. “you want me.”

• henry calling alex bossy 😂

• alex literally just insulting henry while he’s going to town on him

• “do you ever stop talking?” henry says. “such a mouth on you.”

• “hi,” he says, when he reaches henry’s eye level.

“hello,” henry says back.

“i’m gonna take your pants off now,” alex tells him.

“yes, good, carry on.”

• fucking eyelashes

• when he's done, he presses a sticky kiss in the crease of alex's leg where he'd slung it over his shoulder

• the mattress shifts, and henry moves up to the pillows, nuzzling his face into the hollow of alex's throat. alex makes a vague noise of approval, and his arms fumble around henry's waist, but he's helpless to do much else.

• the tip of henry’s nose catching on alex’s

• “for fuck’s sake, man, you just had my dick in your mouth, you can kiss me goodnight.”

• monocles for babies 😂

• “i don’t like that look,” amy says. “you look…sweaty.”

• “what in the rich-white-people-sex-dungeon hell?”

• the whole polo kit situation. henry slowly putting his boot back on the floor

• “i’ve thrown men in the dungeons for less.”

“hey, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

• paris!!! leaving directions to the cheese

• “you're a mad, spiteful, unmitigated demon, and I'm going to kiss you until you forget how to talk.”

• birthday floggings et al and the buttercream!

• alex’s heart going weird at henry on the boat and having to put his head in his hands

• “i don't give a damn what joanne has to say, remus john lupin is gay as the day is long, and i won't hear a word against it.”

• “i will staple your dick to the inside of your leg”

• “i did get both of the gay kings.”

• “deflowering the darling of the republic.”

• “i'm not ... historically great at talking about things,” henry says.

“well, i wasn't historically great at blowjobs, but we all gotta learn and grow, sweetheart.”

“wasn't?"

“hey,” alex huffs. “are you trying to say i'm still not good at them?”

“no, no, i wouldn't dream of it,” henry says, and alex can hear the small smile in his voice. “it was just the first one that was.. well. it was enthusiastic, at least.”

“i don't remember you complaining…”

“yes, well, i'd only been fantasizing about it for ages.”

• baby. (!!!)

• “i miss you,” alex says before he can stop himself. he instantly regrets it, but henry says, “i miss you too.”

• “i want to ... put my fingers in his mouth...” she moans, sounding horrified.

• just the whole karaoke bar situation. plz. toilet stall hookup!

• “bisexuality is truly a rich and complex tapestry.”

• o captain, my captain

• “if only you had known the mighty work of thine loins would be undone by a gay heir who likes it when american boys with chin dimples are mean to him.”

• the fruity truth: my favourite english author is jane austen.

• “when at wimbledon”

• “i want to see a cage match between your grandmother (grandfather i guess) and this fucking ghoul running against my mom”

• “and you are good. most things are awful most of the time, but you're good.”

• “he is truly a picture, wearing an expression of bewildered panic and absolutely nothing else.”

• “jesus tits”

• henry falling out of the wardrobe and just. sitting on the floor. (zahra finds him in the wardrobe instead :()

• “i thought you were getting into international relations or something.”

“i mean, technically-“

• “you're literally putting your dick in the leader of a foreign state, who is a man, at the biggest political event before the election, in a hotel full of reporters, in a city full of cameras, in a race close enough to fucking hinge on some bullshit like this, like a manifestation of my fucking stress dreams, and you're asking me not to tell the president about it?”

• all of zahra's quips tbh - “every time i see you, it takes another year off my life.” - “ask me if i'm afraid of the crown.”

• SEXUAL EXPERIMENTATION WITH FOREIGN MONARCHS: A GRAY AREA.

• EXPLORING YOUR SEXUALITY: HEALTHY, BUT DOES IT HAVE TO BE WITH THE PRINCE OF ENGLAND?

• FEDERAL FUNDING, TRAVEL EXPENSES, BOOTY CALLS, AND YOU

• history, huh? bet we could make some. (the emails plz like i need at least some of them read aloud over a montage or something)

• “some saucy tart once tried to impugn my virtue against an oil painting of him, and in the halls of memory, some things demand context.”

• I GUESS THAT MAKES YOU. THE MF. NORTH STAR.

• “i thought you might need to, like, have a catholic moment about this or something?” 😭

• “santa maria is watching!”

• skinny dipping!!!

• “philip is the heir and i'm the spare, and if that nervy bastard has a heart attack at thirty-five and i've got malaria, whither the spare?”

• alex's meltdown outside kensington. very important. - “how 'bout i just keep yelling and we see which of the papers show up first!” he turns back to the window and starts flailing his arms too. “henry! your royal fucking highness!”

• “jesus, could you stop being an obtuse fucking asshole for, like, twenty seconds?”

• “i fucking love you, okay?” alex half yells, finally, irreversibly.

• “what do you want?”

“i want you-”

“then fucking have me.”

“-but i don’t want this.”

• “a whole lifetime of fine. that’s not good enough for me.”

• henry nuzzling his nose behind alex's ear.

• alex laughs and grabs his head and aggressively kisses his cheek, smashing his face into the pillow.

• “next time we shall visit some of the george Ill pieces and see if they burst into flame.”

• DANCING TO YOUR SONG IN THE MUSEUM

• “i completely fucking love you” and the ring and the chain

• “once shaan managed to dislodge him from the chandelier”

• henry’s email about memories and grief and the first time he saw alex

• “jesus, be a gay beard”

• henry and alex in the car after the fake date

• “i will physically fight your grandmother (grandfather i guess) myself if i have to, okay? and, like, she's (he’s) old. i know i can take her (him).”

“i wouldn't be so cocky,” henry says with a small laugh. “she's (he’s)full of dark surprises.”

• “your spine's a ridge i'd die climbing”

• “check the fucking news, you horny little miscreant”

• “it’s about to be gay DEFCON five in this administration.”

• “then fuck it.”

• the big group hug

• oscar saying “give ‘em hell.”

• “you're my mean friend.”

• “jumping off cliffs is kinda my thing”

• I 😭 LOVE 😭 HIM 😭 ON 😭PURPOSE 😭 they can't leave that out if they do i'll kill someone

• “what are we even defending here, philip? what kind of legacy? what kind of family, that says, we'll take the murder, we'll take the raping and pillaging and the colonizing, we'll scrub it up nice and neat in a museum, but oh no, you're a bloody poof? that's beyond our sense of decorum! i've bloody well had it. i've sat about long enough letting you and gran and the weight of the damned world keep me pinned, and i'm finished. i don't care. you can take your legacy and your decorum and you can shove it up your fucking arse, philip. i'm done.”

• “for what it's worth,” he says to philip, “that is the bravest son of a bitch i’ve ever met.”

• “we banged it out last night” + high five

• “i've been gay as a maypole since the day i came out of mum, philip.”

• all the support for them 🥹

• bea pouring the tea on philip's lap

• “you know, i think all that cocaine i did must’ve really done a job on my reflexes!”

• henry pulls alex close and kisses him, whispers, "i love you i love you i love you."

• never 😭 tell 😭 me 😭 the 😭 odds 😭

• “my life is a cosmic joke and you're not a real person”

• “you are the absolute worst idea i’ve ever had”

• “listen, you've had your first big sex scandal. no more sitting at the kids' table.”

• how to love each other in plain sight

• “holding henry’s hand atop his own knee” in the portrait

• “all this fundraising for sobriety is going to drive me to drink”

• “i'm the prince of...here” 😭

• “you spent a month of your gap year talking to yaks in mongolia, h.”

• “i know it's a lot, but you give people hope. so, get back out there and be alex.”

• the super six 😭 (fantastic five now i guess)

• the picture of them on the cover of the magazine

• henry fixing june's hair 🥹 (NORA NOW I GUESS 😟)

#rwrb #rwrb movie #red white and royal blue #red white and royal blue movie #red white & royal blue #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #casey mcquiston

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rwrbficrecs · 9 months

Text

Readers' Choice Rec List Part 3 of 7

Part 1 | Part 2 The Royal Wedding by @dracowillhearaboutthis

@suseagull04

If You Hold Me Without Hurting Me, You’ll Be the First Who Ever Did by @omgcmere

@danieljradcliffe: I love a missing moment fic and this goes down as one of my all time favourites: The first night they spend at the lake house, before Alex wakes up with Henry's swimsuit tangled around his elbow.

Ghosted by @tintagel-or-cockleshells

anon: I feel like people pass over this one because of the Major Character Death but the author came through with a happy ending!

God Save the Blessed American President Mom by @zipadeea

@space--potat0

three grubs in a trench coat + gay brit wizard by @clottedcreamfudge

@space--potat0: This is so charming! Had me laughing out loud and also very hot. Literally the best of both worlds

kensington palace, 6:22am by @cricketnationrise

@space--potat0: This one was my favourite but honestly all their RWRB ficlets were incredible

Class(room) Warfare by @cha-melodius

@themundanemudperson: I loved Alex and Henry's banter in this professor!AU

blurry eyes on a Friday night by orionseye

@dot524: This is Henry’s POV of the White House ball. I felt like H was going through a lot that evening, and this fic captured it perfectly!

Nora & the Holidays by @adreamareads (series)

anon: i just think this series doesn't get enough attention. nora's judaism is hardly ever mentioned, let alone explored, and i think this is really cool the way nora shares this bit of herself with the other characters - education without pushing her beliefs on anyone. plus it's cute and funny.

In Your Orbit by @everwitch-magiks (WIP)

@tintagel-or-cockleshells: This fic has everything. Space. Kidnapping. Pez. Warning tags. It’s a really fresh idea and I love it!

#readers choice #rwrb fic recs #red white and royal blue #firstprince

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moonlightspencie · 11 months

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ok im not used to requesting yet so sorry if im doing this wrong but im sad so i need me some early seasons sam fluff, like reader jokingly calling him sammy and he starts acting all flustered likee ahhhh

i’m thinking like season 2 sammy. with their cute little high voices and happy little smiles (literally went back to watch some eps from this season right after being in season 13 and they were so baby)

pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

want to request some more? click here!

Sam rolled his eyes. “Why do you always have to pick up some girl. Can’t you…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dean said, holding up a hand in defense. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously, Dean,” Sam deadpanned.

Dean raised his brows, an amused smirk on his face. He turned to look at the girl they’d left at the table, then back to his brother.

“You don’t remember her? That’s Y/N.“

Sam’s eyes widened as he looked back at her where she sat, nursing her drink. He hadn’t seen her since they were fourteen and he had a massive crush on her. Her dad was a friend of Bobby’s, and there were a few occasions when she’d visit while the boys were staying with him. However, time had changed many things.

The awkwardly-cute girl that had a funny kind of charm had grown up.

“She looks… Different,” Sam stated at last.

“Still got a crush on her, little brother?” Dean asked with a smile, taking the drinks from the bartender with a wink. “Cute.”

Sam scoffed. “No, I don’t.”

Dean stared a moment. “Right.”

He quickly left, turning on the charm with her just to get under Sam’s skin. He was determined not to let his brother irritate him, especially because he totally didn’t still have a crush on her. It had been nine years since they’d even talked. That would be ridiculous.

He sat quietly, watching the two converse for a while before she set her sights in his direction. He swallowed, adjusting in his seat involuntarily.

“You’re awfully quiet over there,” she stated. “How was your time in college?”

He furrowed his brow. “How do you—”

“While you were over there flirting with the bartender, Dean gave me the run-down,” she stated with a smirk, though it quickly faded. “I’m really sorry about your dad.”

He sighed. “Yeah, thanks.”

“It’s good to see you, though. It’s been, what, ten years?”

“Nine,” he corrected quickly.

Dean raised a brow. “Counting down the years, huh?”

Sam rolled his eyes again. “Dean.”

“Aw, come on, Sammy. I’m flattered you remembered,” she said with a laugh.

He felt his face flush, not even caring that she’d called him ‘Sammy’. He’d never admit that he actually kind of liked it. Or really liked it.

He looked back at her, opening his mouth to speak, but was cut short by Dean shoving him out of the booth. He looked over at a cute brunette across the bar with a grin.

“I’m gonna go try my luck,” he stated for everyone to hear. Then, leaned in close to his brother, lowering his voice. “You might just get lucky, too.”

Sam sat back down, still glaring at his brother’s back. He didn’t notice the fact that she didn’t take her eyes off of him the entire time.

Not until he looked back at her and felt his cheeks turning pink once again.

She merely smiled.

“You’re cuter than I remember, you know? Those little dimples of yours are still killer,” she said with a wink.

He smiled again, not sure if the blush on his face or the butterflies in his stomach would ever fade now.

She took him in, admiring how flustered he could get so quickly, and put an awful lot of thought to Dean’s very loud whisper about Sam getting lucky.

#i LOVE early seasons sammy #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester drabble #sam winchester season 2 #sam winchester fluff

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what-gs-watching · 3 months

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"If that's a joke, I love it. If not, can't wait to unpack that with you later."

So, here’s a thing - winter makes me sad. I mean, it makes a lot of people sad, but also me. When I was younger I used to just cause a whole bunch of drama to get it out of my system but I’m an adult now and I’m still mostly fruitlessly job searching and I can’t really just go around starting fights anymore so I’m just sitting in my ennui, feeling unmoored.

Which made me realize: I need Ted Lasso. Desperately.

Wherein, a low level American football coach moves to England to coach actual football (aka soccer) and ends up creating something so beautiful it’ll make you laugh and cry until you just can’t anymore.

If you’ve never seen Ted Lasso, first of all - how dare you? And secondly, start it now. Like, literally right now. It’s everything you didn’t know you needed.

I will admit I didn’t get into it until my husband watched it and encouraged me into it because of my love for Jason Sudeikis. I tend to pick up unnatural obsessions for SNL alumni, I just want all of them to succeed, so I gave in and instantly lost my mind over it. I couldn’t get enough.

During the second season run, I literally had a standing weekly fifteen minute meeting with my engineers to talk about the latest episode and our theories on what would happen next, or what our favorite joke had been. There were MANY heated debates.

Before the third season came out, I made my family binge the first two seasons while we were on vacation. I remember my mom calling me after she and my dad had watched the series finale so we could talk about it - she’d never bought into a show like that before.

Ted Lasso just brings people together, and I find it absolutely ridiculous that this poignant, wonderful, life affirming show came out of a bit that Sudeikis wrote in 2013 for an NBC Sports commercial. It’s mind boggling.

You guys know, it’s all about the relationships for me, and that’s the entire show, really. Ted is unrelentingly positive and charming and understanding and the reason he likes coaching is because he wants to help his players be the best versions of themselves and wooooph throughout the show, you get that, for every single character, even Ted himself. It’s about loving each other and loving yourself and also somewhat about football and it’s just so fucking…delightful.

And I’m obsessed with all of the different dynamics. Ted and Beard, and Roy and Ted and Beard, and Roy and Jamie, and Roy and Keeley, and fucking Keeley and Rebecca! If you need to see a perfect incredible WONDERFUL female friendship, it’s Rebecca and Keeley fucking Jones. Someone needs to write a long-winded essay about these two, because dear lord, I want a best friend like that. Everyone wants a best friend like that. Like, I just can’t with all of the messy, hilarious, beautiful relationships. I want to be part of them all.

Also, it’s funny. Like, properly funny. Laugh-out-loud-no-matter-how-many-times-you’ve-seen-it funny. The bits are layered. And you’ll get something different out of them every single time. Nuance, gang. It’s all so nuanced.

The first season is absolutely perfect. You get to know all of the characters and you get a general sense of what’s up. Everyone is kind of charming and you’re immediately annoyed with Rebecca and charmed by Roy even though he tries his best to be threatening, and you think that Nathan is adorable and you’re pulled into Ted’s unwavering enthusiasm and Beard’s silliness indulgence and straight-man stoicism and Keeley’s adorableness. And it’s WONDERFUL! I’ve seen season one at least four or five times, likely more. It’s everything.

There are so many good moments. At one point, Ted says he’s having salads for lunch with Higgins who is communications director or something and as Ted goes to leave Higgins says “Cesar you later!” and Ted BURSTS back in through the door and just yells “YES!” and it’s hilarious every time.

When Ted and Beard realize that Roy is a bristling motherfucker who wants to hate everything, Ted says something like “wait til we win him over”, with Beard announcing “He’s. Going to be. Furious.” (And he was.)

It’s the little things in the first season that really endear you to Ted Lasso. It just wraps you up and makes you feel warm and appreciated, like there are people out there that are pure and good and they can make you feel pure and good too.

And then you get into season two and you start to see behind the curtain. Ted’s really not okay with his divorce (which, I still think is because his wife couldn’t deal with his optimism? Which is so insane to me and I can’t even, I never forgave her like, what the fuck is that) and in general and they tackle a lot of mental health issues and social issues and it’s a bit hard to get through.

But at the same time, season two has some of my favorite bits? Which is confusing??! The scene where Sam asks Isaac for a haircut - everyone gets a single cut from the captain once a season - and the entire team watches and whoops and freaks out and it’s like, an intricate performance and everyone is just so fucking thrilled to be witnessing it? It’s weirdly beautiful.

Ted and Beard teaching the entire team the choreography to NSYNC’s Bye Bye Bye so they can send off the team shrink in a ridiculous way? Incredible. When they finally get the dance right, they lose their fucking minds. It’s so JOYFUL.

The episode where Roy finally realizes he wants to join the coaching staff and he makes a dramatic trek to the stadium while “She’s a Rainbow” blares? The theme of that one was believing in rom-communism - to rouse the team Ted tells them “Fairy tales do not start nor do they end in the dark forest” and yo that’s so TRUE - and when Roy finally showed up on the pitch he said, “You had me at ‘coach’.” I cry every single time I see that one. I literally watched it twice in a week when getting the family into the show and I cried both times. Hard.

I think part of the reason this show is so resonating is because dark shit happens, but a lot of really sweet things happen too. There’s an episode wherein Rebecca’s dad dies and they’re all attending the funeral but it still is somehow achingly funny too, even though you learn some terrible things about Ted and Rebecca both in that one. They really ride the line of darkness and light and it’s messy and that’s life.

And then season three is hard. So much happens. And you know that you’re barreling toward the finale. There’s only 34 episodes in the entire series and it’s not nearly enough but they do try to make the most of their time.

Watching the finale season in real time was really interesting though, I’ll say, because the fandom was so nuts at the time. So many random theories and outrage over some of the story points. And at the time I did kind of agree, but seeing it all back to back now in my first true binge, it all makes sense. Everyone had their own journey and some of them were ridiculous and maybe we just wanted things to stay the same because that’s how we fell in love with the characters but that’s not the point, gang. Shit is forever changing.

I’ll never get over the moment when Roy finally relents to the diamond dogs. Or Jamie teaching him how to ride a fucking bike in Amsterdam. Or when the team comes together to help Sam put his restaurant back together after it’s completely vandalized. Or Beard explaining to Nate his background with Ted, and offering his forgiveness to Nate as a way to honor everything Ted has done. Or Rebecca calling Roy out on his shit, saying that instead of helping himself he’d rather “eat shit soup and then complain about the portions”.

There are so many little beautiful pieces. So many things that will pull at your heart strings and make you realize things that maybe have been niggling around in your brain but refusing to come forward because you were scared of them. Ted Lasso helps you be less scared of them. Ted Lasso helps you be less scared of everything, because it encourages you to accept yourself as you are.

In the final episode, Higgins says “Human beings are never gonna be perfect. The best we can do is to keep asking for help and accepting it when you can. And if you keep on doing that, you'll always be moving towards better.”

And that’s what all of us need to understand. This show will ingrain that thought into you, and it’ll buoy you, and you won’t even realize it.

So maybe now I’m feeling less ennui. Because I’m still laughing at the hijinx and basking in the wholesomeness and the amazingly perfect relationships and the belief. Ted Lasso makes you fucking believe.

#what g's watching #ted lasso #coach beard #rebecca welton #roy kent #keeley jones #comfort show #jamie tartt #be a goldfish

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