#’I will make the hard choice for you even if you don’t like what I choose’

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (13)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: the elections distracted me! This should have been up ages ago 💙 Anyhow, look at our boy pout up there. Darling never stood a chance.

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Darling gets closer to making her choice.

The holiday is already shaping up to be your most memorable one yet, and it’s only halfway done. 

Between all the commotion in the press about Ewan’s film, the lively spin-the-bottle game last night, and your… boys being more brazen in their affections, it doesn’t matter that you’re still half-limping and that one gorgeous blonde girl is testing the limits of your patience—Mallorca is one for the books.

Half of your vacation crew decided to head out into town for the afternoon, allowing you to see more of the local scene. Bethany, Phia, Luke, and Elliott have ventured off to see some shops moments prior, promising to rejoin the group with loads of goodies. So you walk the cobblestone streets with Tom and Freddie on either side, the lads promising to catch you should your ankle ‘betray you and make you faceplant on the street’. 

Because, as Freddie put it, they “can’t have the show’s rising star with a blow to her money-maker,” pertaining to your lovely face. 

You were able to finally remove your fracture boot that morning, after a long-distance call to your doctor, but you still have to slightly drag your left leg as you walk.

“Mate, if you could hurry up a little, maybe we can see more of the town,” Tom remarks with a cheeky smirk. He’s had an arm looped around yours the whole time, ever on the lookout. 

“Sure, let me just use my incredible powers of self-healing. Maybe we can check one of these souvenir shops if they’ve got a bionic leg on sale,” you deadpan, fighting hard to stifle a laugh. 

The fledgling weeks of spring bring a steady warmth to Mallorca. The sunlight is bright yet tempered as it casts its glow over the cobblestone streets, illuminating the quaint storefronts and cafes that line that town square. It’s a picture-perfect afternoon, so long as you don’t turn back to Ewan and Louise who are trailing a bit behind. 

But your curiosity wins over, and you see Ewan smiling politely as Louise gestures animatedly, completely absorbed in her tale. You immediately realise your mistake, a pang of something—guilt, longing, confusion… and jealousy, because who are you fooling—tightening in your chest. You quickly turn back to Tom and Freddie, who are too busy scheming to notice your reaction.

“So, do we let Ewan suffer, or do we intervene?” Tom asks, tilting his head toward the pair.

You can only shrug. “I think he’s handling it. It’s probably better to give them some space.” The truth is, you know Ewan well enough to sense when he’s at his wit’s end, and even though he looks like he’s about to throw in the towel, you don’t want to complicate things further. 

Who are you to deny Louise some quality time with your good buddy Ewan Mitchell? He is a stand-up guy, after all, and all of you are friends here. It’s a casual day out, nothing but a good time. 

And… you do need some time to let his confession sink in. He has given the power to you, and the only thing left to do would be to choose him.

You love him, you love him, you love him. 

So the choice should be easy, but why isn’t it?

Freddie smirks. “Space, you say? You mean you’re hoping he’ll finally snap and make a break for it?”

“Maybe,” you admit with a small smile. “Can you blame him?”

The three of you linger by a cafe, chatting to your heart’s delight. You catch sight of Ewan glancing your way, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. Hey, he mouths, staring you down until Louise nudges him, and he has to shift his focus back to her. 

“Honestly, though,” Tom continues, “what’s the deal with him and Louise? He looks like he’s drowning over there.”

“Maybe she’s finally wearing him down,” you say, half-joking, but you’re aware of how often Ewan gives too much of himself sometimes, especially to someone like Louise. The boy’s just too sweet and polite to say no. 

“I give him five minutes before he either leaves or starts shouting for you,” Freddie chimes in, his eyes dancing behind his sunglasses. “It’s a safe bet.”

Before you can respond, Ewan’s voice rises above the clamour of the street. “Actually, that’s not what I meant—”

“I can’t believe you thought that!” Louise interrupts, playfully punching Ewan’s arm, her tone a mix of disbelief and enthusiasm. “But that’s what makes you so unique! You always see things differently.”

What’s unique is the expression Ewan sports as a reaction, akin to a deer about to be hit by a Jeep.

“Unique?” Ewan repeats, a note of incredulity in his voice. He shakes his head, his mouth falling open, like he’s trying to find the words. Louise leans in closer, mentioning something about how cute he looks when confused. 

Well, she’s not wrong there. You have to hand it to her—she’s persistent.

“Why are we just standing around?” Tom suddenly says. “Let’s get some drinks. We need to fuel up for the gossip you owe us.”

“I’m in,” you say a bit too quickly, desperate for a distraction. You motion toward a quaint nearby bar with a bustling atmosphere. It seems like the perfect refuge, far from the intensity of the current situation. The bartender greets you with a grin, and Tom takes charge, ordering a round of brightly-coloured cocktails that seem to match the vibe of the holiday. 

Tom gives you a sly look over his glass. “So here we are, eh?”

“Here we are,” you nod, sensing something coming round the corner. 

“My god, this cocktail is amazing!” Freddie gasps dramatically, oblivious to the look you and Tom are sharing. “I must know what’s in this… Is that gin and… and what?”

“I myself would rather know,” Tom begins, leaning forward, “about the truth behind all the drama. The are-they-or-aren’t-they of it all. My missus has also been bugging me about it. All she talks about is you and your Ewan.” 

Freddie’s grin is huge as he raises his glass. “Bloody hell, cheers to that then! I know there’s something brewing, but no one ever tells me the details. What is this, a fight to the death? May the best Targaryen win? Lucky girl you are.”

Tom snorts. “Or may the right man win. Which, to be honest, is not Matt in this scenario.”

Freddie’s jaw drops in mock horror, clutching his chest. You may take the lad out of classical theatre for a while, but you can’t take classical theatre out of the lad. “Excuse me? Matt is a national treasure, he’s mature and reliable, and he throws a fabulous party. Might I mention how highly he speaks of you?”

Tom shoots him a scornful look. “Reliable. How riveting. Look, I love the guy, but Ewan’s practically half of her soul—”

You groan. “Can we not turn this into a debate? I’m actually trying to keep things simple now.”

“Simple,” Tom repeats, one blonde eyebrow arching. “Darling, nothing about this is simple, especially not since Ewan isn’t bound to that ridiculous PR setup anymore. Are you going to pretend that it doesn't change things?”

Freddie waves a finger. “It doesn’t have to change things. Matt’s good for her. I mean, they’re actually happy, and you need someone solid, love. Someone who isn’t going to fling you around emotionally, from the very little that I’ve heard.”

Tom rolls his eyes. “Of course, you’d think that. You get all your goss from Liv and she basically adores Matt.”

Freddie clutches his glass defensively. “Well I know for a fact that Matt is fun! And steady! You don’t need fireworks all the time to make something work.”

“But fireworks are the whole point, you know?” Tom insists. “You can’t reduce a relationship to sensible compatibility and call it love.”

“Love can be practical too,” Freddie says, looking at you. “Wouldn’t it be nice to just…breathe? To not have to worry about how he’s going to handle things every other minute?”

You wince, half-convinced by Freddie’s logic, but then Tom’s voice cuts in, softer, more serious.

“Sure, she could breathe,” Tom says, “but let’s not forget who actually takes her breath away.”

It hits you, the truth you’ve been dancing around with both of them.

Freddie gives you a sidelong look. “Alright, love, confession time. Say Ewan was still bound to that PR relationship, do you really think you could have handled not being with him? Watching him essentially be with someone else?”

You swallow, glancing down at your drink. “It would have hurt, but I would have had to handle it.”

Tom keeps the interrogation going. “And now? What would you do if he does end up with someone else? Louise seems to have her claws in him.”

You let out a huff, your next words decisive. “Look, if she can take him that easily, then he’s all hers.” Because that would mean all those heartfelt phrases about being so in love with you aren’t true. 

That’s the reasonable part of you. The other, less savoury part wouldn’t hesitate to get your own claws in Louise if she swoops in to take your man, petty catfight style.

“But see! See here,” Freddie exclaims in glee, “We’re talking about Ewan and she’s already stressed. She needs a break from the drama, Tom, and Matt is like… an oasis.”

Tom rolls his eyes but doesn’t let it go. “Sure, an oasis that leaves her wishing she were somewhere else half the time.” He sighs, his voice softening. “Look, Matt’s lovely, but he’s not the one. He’s not the one who can turn your whole world upside down, and I know you two. I’ve seen you together, I’ve seen you apart, and trust me, you’re so much better together. Hell, it’s better for all of us too! I simply cannot deal with Ewan moping around again.”

You feel your cheeks warm as you consider his words. It’s almost dizzying, trying to compare the two men, as though they represent opposite sides of you, each offering something you desperately need. They’re both right, in different ways. With Matt, there’s a sense of stability that you haven’t felt before. He’s steady, he’s sweet, and he genuinely adores you despite all of the tangled strings that have bound you to Ewan. 

But with Ewan… you want him, love him, with an intensity that is almost all-consuming. It’s the kind they write songs about, the kind that drives hearts crazy. 

Freddie drops the dramatics, his voice sincere when he speaks again. “Darling, Tom’s got a point, but just… be honest with yourself. What do you really want? Because whatever you decide, it’s your heart on the line. And you know, we’re here for you, no matter who you choose.” And then, as if with the flick of a switch, he turns his flair back on. “God, you could choose me, just so you don’t have to deal with this dilemma of yours anymore!”

You let out a breathy laugh, all the tension you’re feeling dissipating. “I just might!”

Tom mirrors your laughter. “Now that’s a dangerous idea. But hey, life’s short, right? You don’t have to have it all figured out right this second.”

Freddie grins, raising a toast. “To being a beautiful mess.”

You clink your glass with theirs, watching in amusement as they both begin bickering again over who’s really the better choice. As the debate drifts over to which drink to order next, a quiet but unmistakable presence makes its way to your table. Ewan stands behind you, his hands resting on the back of your chair. 

“I’ve been looking for you guys,” he greets calmly. 

Freddie doesn’t hesitate to take a playful jab. “Ah, Ewan! All by your lonesome now? Where’s your lady?”

Ewan perches on the last empty chair on your table, catching your eyes. “My lady’s right here,” he smirks, and he says the words with such ease that your cheeks heat. Everyone would benefit from taking lessons in the Ewan Mitchell School of Charm. “Fancy a walk, darling?”

You quickly glance at Tom and Freddie, whose raised brows practically tell you that they’re going to be chattering about this as soon as you’re out of earshot. “Try not to miss me too much, boys,” you wink at them, letting Ewan help you out of your seat and whisk you away. He offers his arm to you for support, and the two of you fall into stride, allowing the buzz of Mallorca’s streets to fill the quiet between you.

“So,” he starts, “I sure hope Tom and Freddie didn’t give you any trouble.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you smile, your tone lowering as you decide to tease him a little. “We would have invited you over, but you seemed to have plenty of… entertainment yourself.” You playfully wag your eyebrows at him, and he makes a show of groaning and turning away.

“Don’t remind me, my darling,” he groans. “I was so close to faking an illness and making my escape.”

You chuckle at his apparent distress. “Poor Ewan. It must be so hard being adored by a beautiful girl, isn’t it? Wait, where is she again? Did you scare her off?”

“Phia came to my rescue. They went walking by the bay or something, I don’t know. And about being adored, it only matters to me if it’s by you.”

You’re about to lean into a joke and call his bluff, when he adds, “Well, you… and my mum.”

“I thought so,” you giggle, his eyes holding yours with a familiar sweetness. But then his gaze is snagged by something behind you. 

“Is it just me, or does that cat look suspiciously like Sansa?” Ewan points to the front display of a rustic souvenir shop, and you immediately see a plush black cat with curious amber eyes.

You gasp softly, your hand tightening around his bicep. “I did leave Sansa back with my neighbour in London, right?”

“Are you sure? She’s right there, darling,” he plays along, grinning. “I think I’d recognise my daughter when I see her.”

“Your daughter, huh? The most you have right now is visitation rights.”

“Wait here, baby,” he presses a kiss to your temple, leaving you leaning against the wall across the shop. He disappears inside, emerging just moments later, the little cat plushie already in his hands. His expression is tender as he passes it to you. “Here. Figured you could use a bit of home.”

You take the little black cat, heart swelling at the sweetness of his gesture. “Thank you, Ewan. She’s perfect.”

He’s all smiles, his dimples deepening as he nods in response. 

You hug plush Sansa to your chest. “Now I wish they also had whippet plushies, so I can give you a piece of home too…” 

Ewan’s gaze softens, and he shifts slightly, his gaze dropping as he gathers his thoughts. “Darling, I hope you won’t think I’m just trying to score brownie points here or something, given the current situation, but honestly…” He hesitates, but makes up his mind as his eyes meet yours. “If I wanted to feel at home, all I really need is… to be with you.”

Your breath catches, and your mind is too focused on what you’ve just heard that your hold loosens around plush Sansa, causing it to nearly stumble out of your hands. 

“Ewan,” you say softly, your voice laced with an affection you can’t quite dampen. “You don’t play fair, you know that?”

He chuckles, a little self-conscious, his hand reaching for yours. “You know me, darling, and you know how I feel about you.” His thumb brushes over your knuckles, and the touch is light, almost reverent.

“So, no Sansa needed, huh?” you tease gently, trying to keep things light even as the weight of his words lingers. 

His smile returns, a little shy, a little playful. “You got that right. But maybe we don’t have to tell Sansa about this.”

You’re about to offer a witty rejoinder, when a cheerful shout slices through the air. “Ewan!” It’s Louise, her voice loud and undeniably eager, and you find yourself dropping Ewan’s hand. 

And either you’re not in her line of sight, or she just didn’t bother calling out to you too. What a delightful girl.

“Oh,” Louise finally acknowledges you. “That’s a nice… toy you’ve got there.”

“It’s a plushie actually,” you mutter dryly, wiggling plush Sansa in the air.

Ewan snorts at your deadpan expression, and much to Louise’s obvious annoyance, he drapes an arm around your shoulders, pulling you snugly against him. “I got it for her. It’s almost an exact replica of her cat, isn’t it, darling?”

Your eyes widen at his purposeful cheekiness. The lad has finally had enough of another girl trying to get a bite out of him. “Well, yeah…” you stumble on your words, “It does look like her.”

Louise pouts. “What a nice, friendly gesture.”

Ewan chuckles to himself, not letting her mood dampen his spirits. “I think it’s rather romantic.”

“Hold on,” Louise responds, appraising you with a raised eyebrow. “Aren’t you dating Matty?”

“Uhhh—”

“There you kids are!” Phia materialises out of thin air, an angel in disguise.

Oh, you could just kiss the very ground she walks on.

Everyone makes their way to the pool area the next afternoon, the group scattered all around the lush backyard of the villa.

Matt lingers outside your door, waiting for you to finish changing. He leans casually against the railing, his gaze drifting downstairs to Fabien and Elliott, who are hauling crates of beer toward the poolside. He whistles and shouts out a playful, “Save me some, lads!”

“Waiting on your woman, Romeo?” Elliott sings up at him.

Matt waves them away, spinning around to face your door. As he waits, his mind drifts back to a conversation he had with Liv the evening before. She’d seen right through him, spotting the quiet insecurities he tried to keep buried and urging him to go all in with you, to show you what he couldn’t quite put into words. And so, he decided he would; he’d pour everything into showing you just how much he cared.

He has the advantage in that he hasn’t hurt you the way Ewan has in the past, and he has absolutely no intention of doing so, not when being with you feels like the easiest, most natural thing in the world. 

To him, you are like the human equivalent of a shot of espresso, a musical laugh, a jolt of positive inspiration. He’s always felt this, but one night, many nights ago, this effect that you have on him became amplified.

And suddenly, you are all he sees.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way, especially not after you finally open the door. You don a forest green bikini that leaves little to the imagination, with a sheer white wrap tied loosely around your waist. 

Matt lets out a low whistle, walking up to you with a slow, playful swagger. You roll your eyes at him when he unapologetically draws his gaze over your bare skin, but he can’t help it.

You look so ravishing that he wants to push you back inside the room. As stunning as your bikini is, it would look even better off.

To hell with the pool.

“What do you think?” 

He has roused from whatever grey temperament he was stuck in, now that he’s had his espresso. “I'm a goner. Absolutely done for.”

“Flatterer.” You shake your head at him, taking in his broad, bare torso. “Well, you don’t look so bad yourself.” 

He smirks, his large hands kneading your waist. “I'm the luckiest man on the planet, and this is you after an accident, you say? My love, you're a vision in green.”

“You like the colour?”

“Mmm, if I didn't like you in it, I'd cause a fuss about how you're playing for the other team, my Alyna.” He swoops down and kisses the crook of your neck, the spot he is aware would tickle, eliciting a soft giggle out of you.

“I could never,” you say, swatting his arm. “They were just out of black bikinis at the shop.”

“Black... green... we both know you look the best without either of them on. I mean, we did establish that six times in one night, remem—”

“Matt!” you squeal, eyes wide and scandalised. He feels smug, because he made sure you would never forget that night. “You're such a dog. Come on, let's join the others. I can’t wait to finally dip my toes in the pool.”

He is one step ahead of you the whole time, paying special attention to your bad ankle. He knows he’s being too careful when you eye him strangely, but he doesn’t care. “I got you,” he says.

“I can walk, you know,” you huff. “I’d have been down here ten seconds ago if it wasn’t for you going all Mr. Protector.”

As you reach the final landing, Phia’s voice rings out, “Hands off my woman!”

“She’s got a point.” You tilt your head at Matt, lips pulling at the corners.

“Have I? I was just kidding,” she shakes her head, before mumbling under her breath. “I'm not Ewan.”

Matt huffs out in response, trying not to let it get to him. Phia takes your other arm, deaf to your protests. It’s silly, because they’re both aware that you can probably fend for yourself, but not if they have anything to say about it. 

Fabien, Elliott, and Harry are manning the grill out on the patio. Some of the ladies are cozying on their sun chairs. Ewan, Luke, and Freddie are smoking on a bench under a canopy. And Thom Yorke serenades the whole scene, the speakers emitting ambient music.

Matt’s always loved a good European excursion, but this one might be his favourite yet. Thanks to the girl who lets him fuss over her despite her feigned annoyance.

Your fingers dig tighter into his arm as the two of you lower into the pool. He relishes the moment and allows the ebb of the water to push him closer to his girl.

“Hold on to me.”

You roll your eyes, but wrap your arms around his shoulders anyway. “I'm fine, Matthew. My ankle’s almost healed back to normal.”

“Almost is the keyword there, my love. We can't take any chances. So... hold on to me, beautiful.” The late morning sun is a blanket comfort as you float on together, your laughter ringing out as he flaps an arm on the water and splashes your face. 

From the sidelines, Freddie lets out a loud, teasing whistle. Matt responds with a triumphant fist pump, turning to give him a cheeky grin. 

That might have been a mistake because his eyes landed on Ewan, seated comfortably to Freddie’s left, a cigarette burning low between his lips. His eyes are obscured by dark sunglasses, but he’s clearly surveying the scene unfolding in the pool with an air of nonchalance that doesn’t sit well with Matt. 

He would have expected Ewan to jump in the pool as well and make a show of laying a claim on you as he had before. But no. The younger lad just sits, and watches, the makings of a smirk pulling at his lips when Matt makes eye contact.

Since when has he been this self-assured? Perhaps you’re to credit for this renewed sense of confidence? 

Are you slipping away from him, and back into Ewan’s arms? 

Too many questions, and not even the pleasant haze of Spain can shake the anxiety out of him. 

But then, Liv strolls over, positioning herself in front of Ewan, blocking Matt’s view. She bums a cigarette from one of the guys, and as she turns, she gives Matt a subtle nod—a reminder of her advice from last night. Just show her, she’d said. Show her you’re all in.

Thank the heavens for Olivia.

Turning back to you, Matt softens, brushing a lock of hair from your face. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, feeling his doubts fade as you meet his gaze, eyes bright with laughter.

“Enjoying yourself there?” you ask sweetly.

“What’s not to enjoy?” he replies, his hand tracing slow, lazy circles on your back.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you glare like that before.”

“I was not glaring.”

“You so were, Matthew.”

“Oh, yeah?” he murmurs, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. Before you can react, he dips underwater, reemerging just inches from your thigh, where he plants a quick, teasing kiss that makes you yelp.

“Wha—Oh! Matt! Get up here!”

He surfaces, grinning, his arms winding around you again as he pulls you close. Your laughter mingles, echoing across the pool as the rest of the group cheers and jeers good-naturedly.

Just as Matt’s about to pull you in for another kiss, a loud shout breaks through the calm. 

“Cannonball!” Tom’s voice echoes from the villa, and before either of you can turn around, he comes barreling out, sprinting at full speed. With a triumphant yell, he launches himself off the edge, arms and legs splayed out like a human starfish.

The massive splash sends water arcing high, soaking you, Matt, and everyone within a ten-foot radius.

“Always one to ruin the moment, Tom,” Matt jokes.

“Had to make sure you two didn’t get too cosy,” Tom shoots back, swimming closer and clapping Matt on the shoulder. 

It’s all in good fun, sure, but then Matt catches Tom shoot a quick wink at Ewan, a flash of understanding passing between them.

So that’s how it’s going to be? Game on. 

It’s the penultimate day of the Mallorca trip and the group has rented boats to paddle out along the stunning coastline. Only 2 people are allowed per vessel and some pairs have already formed—Phia and Phoebe, Louise thankfully pulled away from Ewan by Bethany, Harry and Freddie…

And then there’s Ewan who strides over to you determinedly. Matt is a half-step behind, his expression expectant, but Ewan is quicker. “I’m with you today, darling,” he says, his tone leaving little room for question. His hand finds yours, warm and grounding.

Matt’s eyes flicker with disappointment but he’s never been one to kick up a fuss. He gives you a faint resigned shrug, then turns to Liv. “Guess that means you and I are a team then.”

Liv rolls her eyes playfully, pushing her sunglasses up and swatting his arm. “Don’t sound so thrilled. But I promise I won’t make you row the entire time.”

Matt’s smile softens as he looks at her, his earlier disappointment slipping into something more relaxed. “Fine, but I’m claiming the right to judge your rowing skills.”

“I’ll have you know I’m an excellent rower,” Liv insists, taking her spot at the front of the boat and casting a teasing glance at him. “You, on the other hand…we’ll see.”

As you and Ewan push off into the water, he throws a glance back at the others, and a spark of mischief lights his eyes. “Think they’ll survive?”

You laugh, settling across Ewan on the boat. “I think it’ll be a surprise if Tom’s boat doesn’t capsize.”

Soon enough, everyone’s boats are spaced out on the clear, serene waters, and there’s nothing but the occasional splash of oars, the birds squawking high above, and the warm glow of the horizon. Ewan rows steadily, having doggedly refused your offer to help, and every now and then, his eyes flick to you, a soft smile never leaving his lips. His gaze lingers, like he’s committing your image to memory.

As you watch the world, he watches his world.

“Feels like another reality out here, doesn’t it?” he says, his voice barely above a murmur.

You nod, watching the sunlight dance across the water. “It really does.” You pause, glancing over your shoulder to see Liv and Matt, already in animated conversation. “It’s nice to just… forget everything for a while.”

He smiles, tilting his head. “Anything specific you wanna forget?”

You smile back. “Everything, really. The pressures, the expectations… wondering what everyone thinks or wants.”

From a few metres away, Matt’s voice carries over the water, cutting through the quiet intimacy of the moment. “I’m just saying, Liv, you don’t have to prove anything. You can let me row.”

Liv laughs, her voice filled with playful defiance. “Matt, I am fully capable of handling this. Maybe it’s you who should be taking notes.”

“Oh, I’d hate to step on your expert skills,” Matt teases back, before throwing a glance your way, his gaze lingering a bit too long before he turns back to Liv, who seems blissfully unaware of his momentary distraction.

Ewan notices it too, and his grip on the oar tightens ever so slightly. But he says nothing, keeping his focus on you as he rows further along the shore.

He steers the boat around a small bend, his voice low. “They’re good together, don’t you think?”

You turn, following his gaze. It’s a simple, easy dynamic between them, one you know you’ve seen before, and for a moment, a pang of something unnameable twists in your chest.

“Yeah,” you murmur, a touch distracted.

Ewan catches your gaze, his eyes searching yours. “You seem… surprised. Or maybe… jealous?”

You laugh it off, shaking your head. “Not at all. It’s just—”

But before you can finish, a sudden splash interrupts you. Harry’s boat has tipped over, both he and Freddie flailing in the water, their laughter filling the air as they try to right themselves.

Bethany, a few feet away, doubles over, her laughter carrying over the waves. “Oh my god, Freddie, I told you to sit still!”

Harry, sputtering as he surfaces, grins. “Guess I got too excited.”

“So I was wrong,” you turn to Ewan, smirking. “It’s not Tom who capsized.”

Ewan just laughs, then adds slyly, “Here I was wishing it would have been Matt.”

After the boats return to shore, you’re all tired and exhilarated, the sun higher in the sky as you make your way up the beach. But the peace is short-lived. Fans, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, begin to gather along the shore, their voices excited, cameras ready as they shout greetings and ask for photos. The relaxed energy shifts as each of you is drawn into the swirl of attention, questions flying as you try to keep up.

A fan steps in close, slightly shaking in her nerves. “You… and Ewan?” she asks, the question open-ended but its meaning clear.

You chuckle awkwardly, caught off guard, opting to just wrap an arm around her shoulders as she takes a selfie with you. 

But the fan is relentless, her attention shifting to Matt, who’s standing off to the side with Liv, his gaze directed toward you even as he signs another fan’s poster. “What about him?” she says, grinning.

Ewan’s arm slips around your waist protectively, pulling you closer. “She’s with me today,” he says confidently, not minding the possibility of this fan taking to the internet after this encounter, with proof of her ship actually being together.

Ewan doesn’t care; he has no reason to hide how much he wants you. Not anymore. If his fans want a crumb, as he often reads online about him, then he’s going to give them a whole feast. 

With you as the main course in the Ewan banquet.

As the day comes to a close, you find yourself resting all alone in your room, stealing the group introvert mantle right under Ewan’s nose. Everything that has happened during this vacation plays in your mind like a montage, and somehow, it all feels like it’s building up to a grand finale.

But before you can lose yourself completely in your thoughts, there’s a soft knock at your door.

You groan to yourself as you walk over, but your protest dies as you find Ewan standing there, holding something behind his back.

“Hey, you,” he greets you with a smirk that’s more mischievous than usual. “Got a minute?”

Your heart skips a beat — it’s always been that way with him, that instant flutter, even now after everything. “Sure. What’s up?” 

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says, his grin widening at your raised brow. He steps into your room, pulling whatever he’s hiding behind his back.

When he finally reveals it, you blink, eyes widening. “You... bought these?” You can’t help but laugh.

Two brightly coloured superhero masks — one Spider-Man, the other Spider-Gwen.

“Yep, I saw a costume shop that had Carnaval masks… and these too, apparently,” Ewan says, looking pleased with himself. “I thought it would be fun. We’re getting away from the villa tonight. I figured we could use these. You know, masks for our incognito date night.”

It had taken one quick scroll on the internet for your group to discover that the paparazzi trailed everyone around town today, and Elliott even annoyingly revealed that he might have seen one or two of them lingering outside the villa’s premises. 

Vultures.

You laugh again, shaking your head. “Wait, you’re serious? We’re wearing these to our… date? Wait, why are we going on a date?”

He shrugs with a playful glint in his eye. “Why not?”

You hesitate for a second. It’s such a ridiculous idea, but in the best possible way. He’s always had a way of pulling you out of your own head, making you feel like there’s no right or wrong way to just live in the moment. 

Or maybe he could propose anything—anything at all—and you’d be beside yourself if you refused. It’s how you and him ended up having copious amounts of…. casual lovemaking, months after breaking up.

“Okay,” you finally say, ��but only if you promise not to laugh when I look completely ridiculous in it.”

“Never,” he says with mock solemnity, holding out the Spider-Gwen mask for you. “You’ll look amazing. Trust me.”

As you slink past the gates, the masks make you feel more than a little silly, but also oddly liberated. It’s like you’re in on another secret with him, something just for the two of you.

You look at him, smiling as you adjust the mask. “This is insane,” you say, your voice muffled behind the fabric.

Ewan smiles back, clearly pleased with himself. “I know. And it’s perfect.”

“Are you sure this isn’t just you practicing for an audition for yet another Spiderman reboot?”

He only playfully shoots air webs at you, his adorable pew-pew noises audible under his mask.

You chuckle softly, your heart warming at the sight of him. “So, what now? You’re just going to walk me through the streets like this?”

“Of course. You ready to go on the best secret date of your life?”

You laugh, feeling lighter than you have in days. “Lead the way, Spiderman.”

The walk isn’t long, just enough to enjoy the quiet of the night and the unexpected adventure of it all. When you finally arrive at the restaurant, you stop dead in your tracks, blinking up at the building in front of you. It’s perched on the edge of a cliff, offering a breathtaking view of the bay below. The warm glow of the restaurant spills out onto the street, and you’re immediately struck by how beautiful its facade is.

You look at Ewan, your surprise written all over your face. “This... this place looks amazing. How did you find it?”

“I have my ways,” he says, grinning. “Come on.”

He leads you up the stairs, and you both remove your masks as you enter, giggling to each other. You’re met with a homey, rustic atmosphere. There’s a dim light from lamps perched on the posts, the soft murmur of conversations, and the smell of fresh food in the air. It’s everything you didn’t realise you needed tonight—calm, peaceful, and more than a little romantic.

“I booked a private table for us,” Ewan says softly, glancing around for the waiter. 

The two of you are escorted to a table on the balcony, overlooking the bay. The moon reflects on the water, casting a silver glimmer over the scene. For a moment, you just sit there, both of you silent, taking it all in.

“Ewan, this is incredible,” you say, your voice quiet but full of admiration. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Ewan smiles, reaching across the table to take your hand. “You don’t have to say anything. And I promise this isn’t some ploy to get you to speed up your decision-making. I just… I just wanted you to have a night where you could forget about everything else.”

He leans back slightly, his eyes studying you with that gentle familiarity, like he’s waiting for you to say something more, but he doesn’t rush you.

You glance down at the simple sundress you’ve been wearing all day. You didn’t have time to change when Ewan mentioned the surprise evening out — there was no real thought given to a perfect outfit. And yet, as you sit here now, across from him in the warm candlelight, you don’t feel the usual self-consciousness you might’ve once felt. 

You feel more beautiful than you ever have before, because he sees you as the most beautiful person in the room. In any room.

“I don’t know how you do it,” you say, looking at him. “How you make everything feel so…” You trail off, unable to find anything adequate. 

His lips curl into a knowing, half-smile. “I feel the same about you.”

And you might not know it yet, but this night is when you choose him. 

Under the unprecedented rainfall, later on, you will realise that you never truly had to choose.

It’s always been Ewan, all along. 

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

I have no notes. The red mirage is still at play as I type this. Please distract me in the comments 🥲

The next chapter wraps up this trip :) We also might have a bit of Liv's POV...

Then it's back to LA or London, depending on who darling opts to go with 💛

[drenched-in-sunlight]

very opionated talk underneath the cut

this is what I get for keeping checking out the fandom tag, but oh well 😭

seeing the reasoning behind the “Marika and Godfrey would have been proud of Godrick for the grafting” take is so wild to me like… are we just going to ignore the fact that Nepheli - who is implied to be Godfrey’s descendants, said Godrick’s deeds “taint the very wind” and helped us beat his ass and it’s her who later becomes the rightful Lord of Stormveil ?

+ Roderika, who is thematically a reflection of the girl Marika was pre-Godhood, losing all her companions and being left alone scared shitless and heartbroken in a shack, blaming herself for not being strong enough, brave enough to go die with her friends, all because Godrick is making a mockery of Godfrey’s name and enacting the same tragedy that befell Marika’s people ?

Like, I can sorta see why people refuse to see the Living Jars in the Lands Between as Marika reclaiming a practice that was tainted by the Hornsent deeds, returning it into something done to honor the dead and let them be returned to the Erdtree to continue the cycle of life - death - rebirth (is scattering ashes of the deceased to the sea not a thing in many irl cultures anymore or am I going crazy), cuz if one has certain…views on her, it can be hard to see anything she does in a positive light (actually even if you don’t see it that way, equating jar innards made of dead warriors in a ritual to honour them with living ppl being cut up and forced to meld together as a form of torture is… a choice), but to completely ignore Nepheli and Roderika’s stories and their role in the narrative? 💀

Plus, where in the game is it even stated or implied that Godfrey being a battlefield maniac means he is ok with *read writing on hands* some guy sending his lackeys out to hunt Tarnished (Godfrey’s own warriors) and making them into unwilling extra limbs?

The guy that gives his all to fight the player by himself and compliments us on a battle well fought… will see honour in gaining strength via kidnapping ppl and stealing their strength, instead of fighting your own battles, honing your own skills and getting stronger on your own? Huh?

And even ignoring all that, Kenneth - a mere nobleman, not even demigod or anything, fr called Godrick a “jumped up country bumpkin” who fleed from Leyndell, holed up in Stormveil to hide from Radahn (why are we forgetting this…bro can’t even pass the Godfrey’s no.1 Stan vibe check) and then got beaten up by Malenia?

To add insult to injury, Godwyn’s body lying beneath Stormveil will literally stab anyone coming close to him (which is sth I have an interesting conversation with ppl on twitter about. there’s one person bringing up an interesting interpretation that Godrick probably took off with a relic of Godwyn’s body hoping to graft a piece of the Golden Prince onto himself, but Godwyn body was like “no” and infested the castle ground like a disapproving ghost 😭 but Godwyn is cool with us because he knows we have Marika’s sanction 😊).

Godrick… has no support whatsoever from Marika and Godfrey’s direct descendants, other than maybeeee Morgot who probably was only there to keep an eye on Stormveil - a place of importance to his dad and maybeeee a bit family pity for Godrick, definitely not because he’s proud of the stuffs Godrick is doing (he astral project there to scare us a bit then leave. We gonna kill Godrick? None of his business.).

And there’s also Godefroy who literally got locked up in a gaol… by a Leyndell Knight who later got the highest honour of Erdtree Burial after he passed away - specifically because of his feat in capturing Godefroy. Why are we forgetting Kristoff???

No one in Leyndell likes the Grafted guys, no one in Limgrave likes the Grafted guys, there are numerous items in-game expressing disappointment and sadness at the decline of the Golden Linage…. it’s a real damn no one likes you situation 😭

Then later on, Godrick got replaced by Nepheli.

So who are the ones being proud here ????

I’m not even a Godrick hater, I think he’s a fucked up, but compelling!, conclusion to the linage that Marika has with Godfrey - who is probably one of few people who actually knows what she used to go through.

I could even see the kind of pressure and struggle he must have gone through, humiliation after humiliation, hiding from and losing to Radagon’s children of all guys, carrying a legacy that is too big for him to handle. But to say that Marika and Godfrey would have been proud of him? Or that grafting is somehow a reclamation of the trauma Marika’s people went through and turning it into strength ????? He doesn’t even know that Marika was once not a God, let alone anything about her people’s suffering to reclaim anything ? That’s not his pain to reclaim ???

Someone else already did that. Marika herself. Rakshasa herself. You really do not have to give a man all the flowers for something women (who actually suffered and went through that trauma) already did.

[neverenoughmarauders]

Hi! what are your thoughts on the ever present fanon idea that James repeatedly asks Lily to date him before she finally concedes (he pesters her tbh)?

I feel like this throws a lot of people off of Jily as it just adds a bit of creepiness to the ship and makes it weirder for Lily to get with James considering this behaviour, after what must’ve been a fair amount of reckoning since he tormented her childhood best friend for years. Like even if Lily hated Snape at this point I don’t think she’d forget how James treated him easily and let James off the hook without a proper reckoning so adding pestering behaviour to that dynamic just makes their relationship more unlikely ya know. Honestly just tryna find reasons why fandom in general dislike Jily more than jegulus atp.

Hi anon

This idea that James repeatedly asked Lily out I think far precedes Jegulus. In my youth, the few fics I engaged with (often because my best friend kindly helped translate them) seemed to position it as a very cute thing - although it always annoyed me even then, because it has no basis in canon. The day and age where James persistently asking Lily out was seen as cute are over, and now this fanon idea is presented in favour of Jegulus or Snily.

Actually, as an aside, in general the marauders' story is one that has aged poorly... You can't really view the marauders without the lens of it being the 70s and during a wizarding world war - but people do and it completely changes everything.

How do I feel about it?

I feel the same way about this as I do with all fanon ideas that get presented as evidence. It drives me up the wall no end. We all get carried away with our own interpretations and that's fine, but if people cannot separate canon from interpretation of canon /headcanon from fanon, how can we have an informed debate?

Canon:

"Why are you so obsessed with them anyway? Why do you care what they’re doing at night?” “I’m just trying to show you they’re not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are.” ... “I didn’t mean — I just don’t want to see you made a fool of — He fancies you, James Potter fancies you!” The words seemed wrenched from him against his will. “And he’s not ... everyone thinks ... big Quidditch hero — ” Snape’s bitterness and dislike were rendering him incoherent, and Lily’s eyebrows were traveling farther and farther up her forehead.

My interpretation of canon:

The conversation between Snape and Lily to me indicates that it is a relatively new development (which means sometimes not long before/after the whomping willow incident). At this point I think it's hard to argue that James has asked Lily out - why on earth would Snape feel the need to point out that James fancies her if this be the case.

Canon:

“I will if you go out with me, Evans,” said James quickly. “Go on ... Go out with me, and I’ll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again.” ... “I wouldn’t go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid,” said Lily. “Bad luck, Prongs,” said Sirius briskly, turning back to Snape. ... “There you go,” he said, as Snape struggled to his feet again, “you’re lucky Evans was here, Snivellus — ” “I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!” Lily blinked. “Fine,” she said coolly. “I won’t bother in future. And I’d wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus.” ... “What is it with her?” said James, trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him. “Reading between the lines, I’d say she thinks you’re a bit conceited, mate,” said Sirius. “Right,” said James, who looked furious now, “right"

Also canon: Lily found James attractive at this point, despite not liking him very much. It was confirmed in an interview, in response to whether or not Lily hated James, but as we know even from the source text:

“How come she married him?” Harry asked miserably. “She hated him!” “Nah, she didn’t,” said Sirius.

My interpretation of canon:

James is being an immature d***. That aside, nothing about this dialogue suggests to me that James has ever asked Lily out before. Why? James looks FURIOUS at the rejection, he does not give off the vibes of someone who has routinely been rejected by Lily.

There's also the small stuff which doesn't by itself mean anything but which adds up, such as Sirius' and Snape's reaction. Sirius doesn't come across as someone who has seen this a hundred times. He's obviously far less affected or surprised by the outcome, but that's not the same thing. Snape completely loses it with Lily - why? It's not the first time James and Sirius has bullied him, but if it's the first time Snape has listened to James ask her out - worse still, use him to ask her out, he might be furious. He told her so, didn't he? James Potter fancied her.

My headcanon:

We know Lily found James attractive, and that James is shocked to be rejected. We also know Snape is nervous that Lily might be falling for James: 'I’m just trying to show you they’re not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are' Why? Probably because by now Lily and James have flirted a little on and off. If Lily spoke the way she spoke to James by the lake - if James routinely asked Lily out - then the conversation between Severus and Lily makes no sense.

If people want to like Jegulus, they can. Personally, I think Jily holds everything I want from an "enemies" to lovers trope, and if I want another trope it's usually best friends to lovers, and I've got prongsfoot for that. Or if I am feeling like I want both, there's always Jilypad <3

[grave-queen-jakrabitt]

An in depth guide for how to get into professional wrestling (as a fan)

As a long time fan of wrestling I’ve tried to get a few people into wrestling and have found a few problems people usually have with getting into it. I’ll be breaking those down along with terms newbies might need for interacting with the fandom, it can be really intimidating to ask questions if you feel like you should know things by default so I made this

The WWE and AEW aren’t everything: there are so many companies 324 smaller North American and even some Asian companies formed independent wrestling television. You can watch more wrestling than you know what to do with. If you can’t pay the 10$ a month (absolutely no judgement like be hard) the internet is a treasure trove of free wrestling even without the ole yo ho ho. But this leads to another problem

“How will I know what I like?”: You won’t unless you’re gateway was catching wrestling while channel surfing and thinking it looked cool. Try everything once but don’t expect to like everything. Find a few indie matches before looking for anything specific so you can find a little bit of everything, you might like the showmanship, the technical details, weapon based violence, it may change with your mood but if you’re making an effort to get into it you’ll find something just take your time

“Some companies have so much history it’s overwhelming”: unless you are a devoted little lunatic don’t try to watch everything from the start, I did that with progress wrestling and I would watch 10 or so hours of wrestling, I’m still 32 shows behind and they run monthly. Almost any show from any company is a good start but I’d say allow yourself to go back like 3 shows max unless you’re already aware of where you want to start

“Things in wrestling don’t make sense”: that is true but an important thing to understand is wrestling has its own internal logic like any show really, these can vary from company to company but it’s like inertia. You start at “okay so this is happening because it’s wrestling” and you get to a point where you’re choice to suspend disbelief carries itself to “fuck it this might as well happen this is wrestling” that being said

It’s entirely valid to not enjoy something a company does and please don’t just accept something or feel like you have to wait it out. Take a break, keep an eye on it try something new but don’t feel like you have to stay glued to a bed of sand paper. You will not enjoy everything done by a company

Bring a friend and be a friend: having a friend to watch with and help you learn is always good but don’t feel like you have to share their opinion about a person or decision, any good friend will be respectful of that.

rules

A normal wrestling match is usually won by one of 4 ways. pinning your opponent to the mat with their shoulders down for 3 seconds, submission, disqualification or knockout

Other small rules: being outside the ring means any potential victory (often aside from a ko for safety) are invalid, if a limb makes contact with the ring rope during a pinfall submission or hold it’s considered out of bounds and must be broken, if you are outside the ring there is usually a 10 count sometimes 20 if you don’t come back to the ring you get disqualified, ignoring a rope break or using an illegal move like small joint manipulation has a 5 count, don’t hit the ref, fishhook anything, bite, or hit balls. No disqualification matches exist

A tag team match: in its most basic has 2 or more teams of an equal amount, only one member of each team is allowed in the ring at once and the others have to wait on the apron, the other partner can come in when they make contact with their partner in the referees vision. A 5 count is issued for double teaming moves. Sometimes it’s everyone at once in the ring, this is a tornado tag match

Steel cage: they put a cage around the ring and you win by either normal means or depending on the match escaping the cage

lucha de apuestas: if you make any friends with any interest in lucha libre you’ll often hear this term it just means a wager match basically the competitors each put something on the line, their right to mask, their hair, a title, or their career.

Terms

Face/technico: the term used for a good guy, technico is usually reserved for Mexican lucha libre

Heel/rudo: bad guy

Over: if someone is over or getting over they’re ve a fan favorite or in the process of getting there

Heat: negative crowd response

Booking: how the show is being written and how people are being used in that process

Cultural differences in wrestling

You’d be able to find any kind of wrestling in most places if you look hard enough but it’s really interesting how different wrestling styles evolved

America: we have historically had a lot of carnival wrestling. How do you con a bunch of small towns out of money with wrestling? Fix them to be more interesting while still having enough skill to put the everyday challenges away without any suspicion. This became the rough and tumble 70s southern brawl style but until the 90s it really just boiled down to “be able to fuck people up so you don’t have to”

Japan: this is a tricky situation because there are really 3 main styles of Japanese pro wrestling. Strong style focuses on a lot of striking a resilience along with strong fundamental holds, kings road style was also very resilience based but had a more defined match structure and had a focus on throws like suplex’s and head drops. Most modern Japanese wrestling is a kind of blend of those, then you’ve got the younger brother and hardest for me to talk about bati bati. I’m admittedly not that well versed in its history but from my understanding it’s like if MMA and pro wrestling had a baby that didn’t suck. There are better resources than me to learn from.

Mexico: the origin of the highly acrobatic lucha libre actually has to do with a lot of old Mexican rings being modified boxing ring, the gymnastics of lucha are in service of minimizing bad landings. But there are 2 other important aspects to lucha, Your mask/pride and your family. In lucha your mask is your identity and your legacy, it’s essentially sacred. Losing it is often how careers end, if you’re not a mask wearing wrestler pride is the substitute. But the pride of your family is just as important as often times it’s a multi generational commitment.

Europe/the UK: I’m not slapping these together out of disrespect they’re just extremely similar historically. For a while British wrestling greatly resembled its American counterpart but too many bad actors ruined it for everyone and pro wrestling was briefly banned until being revived with a unified and more strict ruleset with world of sport in the 70s that 80s, taking more after catch as catch can. Where as it’s European brother found it’s stride in long grueling tournaments as a test of skill, a tradition still carried on mostly in Germany with WXWs 16 karat tournament, progress’s super strong style 16, and even the wwe uk title tournament

[unbreakablevuw]

“Please-", James’s voice cracked as he sobbed, his body shaking with the weight of it. "Don’t make me forget you.” Regulus felt his own tears blurring his vision, making it hard to focus. He could see the anguish on James’s face as the Gryffindor fought against the spell, desperate to reach the other man, his body quivering and shaking in exhaustion as he tried to break free. But the magic held firm. Regulus cursed himself for knowing these spells so well, for making escaping close to impossible.

Part of him wanted nothing more than to see James fight through, to rush forward and pull him into an embrace, to slap the wand from his hand, tell him to stop this madness. But he couldn’t. Regulus had always been a realist; there was no room for dreams or hope. This was the end, and he had nothing left to say, no choices left to make.

“Obliviate,” he whispered, barely audible through their sobs. The spell struck, and he watched as James’s face went pale, the warmth of recognition draining from his eyes. The memories rose, curling around his wand like a fragile, shimmering blue thread—a piece of James’s soul, soft and warm, holding on as if it could resist the inevitable.

He forced the memories into a small vial, sealing them away. Yet even now, they seemed to burn against his chest, as if they were still fighting him, screaming from inside his pocket, desperate not to be forgotten.

---

Later, in the silent gloom, Regulus watched the vial fall from his hands, slipping toward the ground as if in slow motion. His heart thundered so loudly that he barely heard Barty’s mocking laugh beside him. He didn't know. Didn't know the worth of the small glass bottle. Desperation clawed at him, and he reached out, his voice raw as he shouted, “No! No, please!”

But the vial shattered against the cold stone floor, the blue thread dissolving into nothingness before his eyes. The last trace of James drifted away, leaving only silence. Regulus stared, feeling hollow.

“It was all I had left of him…” he whispered, and in that moment, he understood what true emptiness felt like.

[sugarushwriting]

bad idea, right?

frat boy sunghoon #5

part(s): one two three four

gonna start off breaking y’all’s hearts, but then happy ending yay

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

you really thought things were going well between sunghoon and you. three months and you both still argue like an old married couple. kiss like it’s the first time. fuck like it’s your last day together. comfort each other like best friends.

maybe you both started this relationship or situationship too soon.

although you both never thoroughly said “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” to one another, he was yours and you were his. you both weren’t seeing other people.

or at least you thought.

you hadn’t seen sunghoon for about 4 days as you had to force yourself to stay away to study for an exam, and finish a 5 page research paper for separate classes.

sunghoon would’ve just distracted you with his good looks. so you made the difficult choice to stay in your own dorm, in your own bed.

currently it was saturday night, and as usual the frat was having a party to end the football season and begin the basketball season.

you had originally told sunghoon you wouldn’t be able to make it.

however, you had the best roommate who helped you study for the exam (which you passed the day prior) and helped you with your paper (you did all the hard work, she proof read and made sure you had all materials). so, you finished your paper a day earlier than you planned.

with a big smile, you hugged minnie and literally skipped to the frat house to surprise sunghoon. sadly it was cold as fuck, so you wouldn’t be wearing a mini skirt that sunghoon claims to hate seeing you in but he secretly loves.

you wore tight flare jeans, and a off the shoulder knit black top, with black boots. you rather be warm and comfy than cold and uncomfortable in clothes that your man (?) would rip off anyway.

but your heart sank when you searched for sunghoon throughout the party, his own roommates and friends not having seen him for the past 30 minutes.

you tried one last door quietly, and immediately cusped your hand over your mouth, holding in a gasp, shutting the door back.

inside, sunghoon pulled away startled, “what was that?”

“nothing baby.” a female voice purred and brought her lips down to the hockey player once again.

he kissed her a few times back, hands resting on her hips until he pulled away, wiping his lips.

meanwhile you, your vision blurred fighting back tears and a sob. running down the steps, you ignore jay and the others calling after you.

“are we done?” sunghoon said, pushing the girl off his lap, she pouting.

“hoonie, i thought we were having fun?” she tried her best to seduce the boy, but he pushed her hand away from touching him.

“don’t call me that.” he spat. “this stays between us, and you lay off my girl.”

“we’ll see about that, sunghoon. hopefully she’s still your girl after this.” the girl twirled her fake red hair in her fingers, biting her lip.

you ran back to the dorm, cursing at yourself for even liking a guy like sunghoon.

he was a fuck boy for sake. a hockey player. a frat boy.

then you cursed at yourself once again for leaving like a baby. why didn’t you go in there and yell at him? yell at her?

because you were vulnerable with someone for once.

walking into your dorm room, minnie was surprised to see you back so early, and her face fell witnessing the tears fall down your cheek.

“oh baby, what happened?”

you sniffled and let out the biggest sob, running into your roommate’s awaiting hug.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

sunghoon had a raging headache the next morning. after leaving whoever that girl was behind, he drank himself unconscious.

he didn’t like kissing lips that didn’t belong to you. but he felt he had to. to keep you protected.

however that didn’t last when an unknown number had sent photos of him and the girl in close proximity and the girl on his lap, kissing him.

not only to his number but yours as well. the unknown person literally created a group chat to rub it in sunghoon’s face.

after seeing those pictures, you showed minnie, who immediately deleted the text and blocked both the unknown number and sunghoon.

sunghoon drive himself crazy, nearly pulling out all his hair on his head when you didn’t answer his texts or calls.

“she blocked me.” sunghoon swallowed. “no, no, no.” he threw them covers off of himself, slipping on sweats and a random shirt, for once not caring about his appearance.

he quickly brushed his teeth and washed his face, before running down the steps of the shared house, ignoring his roommates calling for him.

he had one thing on his mind and that was getting to you.

his peach.

“peach, baby, please open up!” he nearly cried himself knocking on your dorm door. “i can explain peach, please!”

you laid in your bed, wearing a hoodie of his, crying while hugging a pillow.

minnie walked up surprised to see the boy at the door.

“can i help you?” she crossed her arms. “this is my dorm.”

“you must be minnie,” sunghoon choked out. “please, please let me in to see her. i need to explain.”

“why don’t you explain to me first?” minnie asked standing her ground.

sunghoon sighed. “i—i can’t.” he shook his head. “just know i was doing it to protect her. protect us.”

“how does making out with another girl protect you both, huh?” minnie shot.

sunghoon hung his head in shame. “i didn’t know someone would send her photos.”

“she knew before the photos sunghoon. she went to the party to surprise you after finishing her work and caught you in the act.”

sunghoon snapped his head up, mouth open, eyes blurry. “wh—what?”

minnie nodded. “she came back crying to me, blaming herself.”

“no, no, no, it’s not her fault! it’s mine. i shouldn’t have taken the blackmail seriously.”

that’s when you ripped the door open, stopping the bullshit. “oh please! blackmail? seriously sunghoon? that’s the best you can do! if you wanted to end whatever this is between us you should’ve just said so!” you spat.

sunghoon and minnie were taken back from your outburst. (minnie was secretly proud though).

“peach—,”

“don’t call me that! you lost your privilege when you put your lips on another bitch!”

you pulled minnie in by her arm and slammed the door in sunghoon’s face, heart pounding.

sunghoon raised his fist to knock but decided against it. he’d go to the ice rink.

on the other side of the door, you let more sobs fall.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

the next few days, sunghoon felt like a zombie. a recluse zombie. he went to class and to the rink, that’s it. no extra curricular activities, no parties, no gatherings, nothing.

you became a recluse yourself, which actually was your usual self. back to keeping your nose in the books, in your own world, ignoring men around you.

you hate to admit that you missed sunghoon so much. you missed his touch, smile, laugh, the little beauty moles on his face. the softness of his hair.

you missed the sex too, of course.

you sighed, unable to concentrate on the book in front of you as you sat comfortably in a chair in the student center on campus.

it was pretty quiet besides the few students scattered around on this floor.

trying to get back into your book, a shadow peeped over the book and you were startled to see karina.

“hi.” she waved, biting her lip.

“hi karina.” you looked at the girl confusingly. you hadn’t spoken to the girl in months, so what was up now?

“i heard what happened between you and sunghoon.” karina said and took a seat next to you.

you raised an eyebrow. well, rumors spread fast. “that was fast.”

“well i saw you running out the house party. it seemed you were about to cry. before i could run after you i saw sunghoon with another girl.” karina pouted and reach to hold your hand. “i’m sorry.”

one thing about karina was she was good at acting. you didn’t know if she truly felt sorry or was faking. you had to tread carefully.

“it’s fine, i’m way out of his league anyway.” you sighed, pulling your hand away.

“nah babe, he’s out of your league.”

yeah something was definitely up. the karina who you used to hang out with would have definitely agreed with the first statement and never made the second one.

later that evening, karina found sunghoon after his game and cornered him after he came out the locker room.

with a wicked smile, she looked at the boy who seemed to haven’t slept in days.

“aw, poor sunghoon. missing his peach.” karina mocked, stalking towards him.

“what the fuck do you want karina?” sunghoon spat. karina just stared at sunghoon with a smile. sunghoon wasn’t dumb. it instantly clicked. “you set me up didn’t you?” he narrowed his eyes.

karina slowly clapped. “took you long enough. who else would know your peach’s deepest darkest secret?”

sunghoon still didn’t know himself, but if it was bad enough to be blackmailed about, he would do anything to protect you.

“why me?”

“i couldn’t go after her, in no way would she dare kiss another guy in exchange for blackmail. plus, you’d be too hard to sway away from her. on the other hand, all it took was one kiss with another girl and poof. bye bye peach.” karina chuckled.

if sunghoon wasn’t a gentleman, he would’ve punched karina by now.

sunghoon scoffed. “all it takes is for me to talk to her and she would understand i was set up.”

“tsk, i wouldn’t do that hoonie.”

“don’t call me that.” he spat.

karina laughed. “unless you want me to tell a certain someone your dirty little secret, i would stay away from her.”

sunghoon looked at her confused, scratching his eyebrow. “wh—what dirty little secret?”

karina smiled. “oh, nothing. i just happened to talk to two girls. one named minji the other named, what was it?” karina tapped her chin, in a deep fake thought. she snapped her fingers, “oh, jiheon!”

sunghoon’s own heart dropped hearing two names he hadn’t heard in forever.

“you really were a terrible human being in high school and during your first year in university, sunghoon.”

“i’m not that same person anymore!” sunghoon exclaimed. “and the second one, i didn’t know she was—,”

karina cut off the boy, “do you really think she’d care about that?” karina stalked closer to him. “don’t think i don’t know you also only slept with my best friend in the first place was to get back at me.”

sunghoon’s nostrils flared, “ex-bestfriend.”

“ha, is that the only part you’ll respond to? why? because you know the other part is true.”

“was.”

“doesn’t matter.” karina crossed her arms. “i’ll be seeing you around hoonie.” she smiled and walked off giving him the peace sign with her back turned.

sunghoon leaned against the nearest wall, leaning his head back. did he just lose you forever?

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

another month passed, and the first time sunghoon had seen you was just now. looking in your eyes as he found you in the crowd at his hockey game.

he was currently in the penalty box for fighting.

“sunghoon has been getting in trouble too much lately. if he keeps it up, he won’t be able to play in the finals!” sunoo gasped.

“that’s if the team makes it then. they play worse when their co-captain is in trouble.” jay added.

you shook your head, sitting next to the group of boys closest to sunghoon.

you hadn’t wanted to come for obvious reasons, but sunoo and minnie both encouraged you. one, sunoo didn’t want to come without you.

minnie had told you, “if you still find yourself having feelings after seeing him, you need to talk to him. hear him out, and find closure.”

minnie was right. even if you had no plans going back to sunghoon (which honestly broke you), you needed to find closure.

“how long has he been getting in trouble?” you asked sunoo softly.

he looked at you with a soft expression and a sigh. “about a month.”

“he won’t tell us what’s going on in that mind of his.” jay said, resting his chin in his hand. “the boy usually is able to control his anger either by being on the ice or you know,”

“fucking other girls.” jake leaned from beside jay finishing his sentence.

jay shook his head. “i don’t think the boy has been laid in about a month. actually more than that. you were the last girl he was with.” jay turned to you.

the boys knew you and sunghoon were no longer together. they just didn’t know what happened.

you looked at the boys who all were staring at you. sunghoon still looking at you from the penalty box.

“are you gonna ever tell us what happened?” sunoo asked grabbing your hand.

you sighed in defeat. “maybe one day. i need to talk to hoonie first.”

eventually sunghoon was welcomed back in the game, and his team won it, sending them to semi-finals next weekend in the city next over.

the arena slowly emptied out, leaving you sitting on the bleachers. before sunghoon walked to the showers with his team, you told him you would be waiting for him on the bleachers to talk.

about 30 minutes later, sunghoon walked out, dressed nicely with his hair still damp.

you looked up with a smile and patted the spot next to you.

you both sat quietly next to each other, scared to talk first.

in the end, it was sunghoon who talked first. and explained everything. don’t the time he was cornered at the party, up to karina’s threat a month ago.

“i should’ve tried to explain—,”

“you did hoonie, i just ignored you.” you sighed. “i’m sorry.” you apologized with a smile.

“nothing to apologize for peach.” he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. his heart fluttered when you didn’t push him off and tell him not to call you peach.

even more, you called him hoonie.

“i should’ve known karina was behind it. i should’ve had more faith and trust in you.”

“it’s okay. i’m a frat boy with a bad rep.” he kissed your hair line.

what you both knew what needed to be discussed was your secrets that were threatened to be revealed.

you inhaled deeply, needing to get this off your chest to sunghoon. “i’ve only told karina—regrettably, and minnie.”

sunghoon tightened his grip of your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. “it’s okay, i promise you can trust me.”

you explained how you indirectly killed an old friend of yours in high school. “she was so drunk, i should’ve fought harder to take the keys away from her!” you cried into his chest.

“peach it’s not your fault.” sunghoon soothed you by rubbing your back.

“it is! if i would’ve just taken her keys, then she wouldn’t have been able to drive! i just—i tried to fight back, but i was more inebriated than her. turns out someone spiked many drinks girls had when they weren’t looking.” you clutched his shirt in your grip.

sunghoon let you cry for a good 5 minutes until you calmed back down. “i’m a bad person, hoonie.”

sunghoon shook his head. “not worse than me, peach.” he sighed. sunghoon was nervous to tell you.

he swallowed, and you waited patiently to hear what his secrets were.

“the first girl, minji, um,” he scratched the back of his head with his free hand. “minji was a sophomore, i was a senior in high school.” sunghoon sighed closing his eyes. “i was a stupid, stupid teenager, peach. i knew she had a crush on me, and so did my friend group. there was an ongoing bet on how many girls we could mess around with, which bases. bonus if she was a virgin.”

you gasped, “sunghoon,”

“i led her on, knowing she had a crush on me, telling her that i didn’t want anything serious. she let me take her virginity and then i just ignored her.” sunghoon said. “at first i didn’t care, i had told her i didn’t want anything serious. she followed me around and i got so mad, i don’t remember what i said, but it was bad enough minji ran away in tears. few days later she attempted to take her own life.”

you held in a breath. “is, is she—?”

“she’s alive. after that, i sought her out and apologized. apologized to her almost everyday for the rest of my high school years. don’t think she ever really forgave me, just told me okay and to move on.”

you held tighter. definitely disgusted by what he did to the girl, no way excusing his behavior. “what about the other girl?”

sunghoon’s vision threatened to become blurry with tears, but he stated to himself he had no right. if anything, he was angry with himself.

“it was my freshman year in college. one of my first few frat parties i’ve been to. i walked in on two people, quickly apologizing and walked out. turns out she was being assaulted. she was barely conscious, her mouth covered by the guy.” sunghoon spat the last part disgusted.

“sunghoon—,”

“don’t say it’s not my fault because it is.” he said. “i could’ve stopped it! i could’ve beat that guys ass for disrespecting a girl. for hurting a girl. if i just had paid closer attention, i could’ve stopped it.”

“sunghoon, it’s not your fault.” you said.

“it is!”

“did you give her to this guy, knowing she was barely conscious?”

sunghoon stared at you like how could you even imagine something like that? “of course not.”

“then no, it’s not your fault, sunghoon.”

“the girl says the same thing.” he sighed.

“you’ve talked to her after the assault?” you asked and he nodded.

“yeah, i testified as a witness. although i quickly walked out, i was quick to recognize the guy. i had seen him earlier in the night wearing the same jersey and jersey number.” sunghoon explained. “i took her out for coffee to thoroughly apologized, and she told me it wasn’t my fault only the guy who assaulted her fault.” sunghoon closed his eyes. “even though i understand she says it’s not my fault, i am still disappointed in myself.”

“where is she now?”

“she moved away. dropped out of college. haven’t spoken to her since.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you both arrived to sunghoon’s place after an intense conversation. you both had demons in your past that you all had to work on. but also agreed you both should’ve just tried harder to communicate.

it felt good to be laying in sunghoon’s arms, wrapped in his scent.

“just so you know, i’m making love to you tonight peach. nice and slow.”

you pouted. “aw not hard and fast? thought i found someone who matched my freak.”

“your freak? what about mine?” sunghoon laughed.

you playfully pushed his shoulder. “i match your freak!”

sunghoon quickly hovered over your body. “matching my freak would be letting me fuck you until you can’t walk in the middle of the ice rink.”

sunghoon leaned down to kiss the soft spot on your neck, immediately causing you to moan.

kisses trailed down to your exposed thighs as you only wore one of sunghoon’s shirts. nothing else.

“i will rent out the entire rink if that means i get to fuck you all over it, peach.”

sunghoon wasted no time to find his favorite place between your legs, your thighs immediately wrapping around his shoulders due to sensitivity.

you’ve missed his tongue.

it seems like sunghoon miss you, or shall you say cunt, because he inhaled your scent from below.

his tongue lapped up all you had to offer, his hands keeping your thighs now pushed apart. back arching off the bed, your fists gripping the sheets, you weren’t going to last much longer.

sunghoon knew your body like a map, and he knew you were close.

he removed his lips hesitantly, kissing back up your stomach, dragging the shirt with him to pull it over your head.

he kissed your lips once, nibbling at your bottom lip. “we’ll come together, peach.”

his nose touched yours, both of you looking into each other eyes, as you felt sunghoon trace his fingers over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its path.

as smooth as always, sunghoon pulled his pants and boxers off with ease, his shirt already being discarded. he eased in slowly to you, your body needing to readjust to the stretch.

“a month too long, peach.” sunghoon groaned once his full length was inside you.

“never again.” you groaned. “fuck sunghoon, please move. i don’t care if it’s fast or slow.”

your nails scratched his back, for sure leaving marks. his right arm wrapped around your stomach, leaving his arm as a barrier between the bed and your back.

sunghoon kept his promise as he fucked you slow. he had to be sure to get his point across. you were his. he was the only one that could make you feel this good.

his left arm kept sunghoon’s body from fully resting on yours, your eyes screwed shut, with your legs resting on each of his side.

this was the first time you and sunghoon ever took it this slow. not even lazy morning sex was this slow.

“hoonie, i—i’m close.” you moaned out, back arching more.

sunghoon bent down best of his ability to attach his lips to your neck. “come with me peach.”

soon you both came together, sunghoon not even worried about pulling out.

─── ᯓᡣ𐭩 ─── ─── ᯓᡣ𐭩 ─── ─── ᯓᡣ𐭩

authors note

≽^•⩊•^≼

the dirty little secrets could’ve been better but oh well

i love frat boy hoonie 🩶

[nezuscribe]

Hello! I am from a country in Scandinavia and I just can’t understand why people are so dumb when it comes to Trump. His economy plan is literally being contradicted by his other plans! He is taking people’s rights away! How hard is that to understand!? The fact that Trump was chosen will ruin countless of lives and will affect the world. He is literally a CONVICTED FELON and he gets to be the president of the USA? He is a criminal.

I don’t understand why people try and defend him. If only they had a brain in between their ears maybe they would stop for a second and realize that what he and they are saying makes no sense and that they are contradicting themselves. I shouldn’t have to feel lucky to be born in a country where I can actually get an abortion and have human rights.

And yeah sure Kamala isn’t the best choice, but she is/was certainly better. And I see the point about the other presidents have not always made the best decisions, but Trump being president is like giving a suicidal person a gun. What I mean by this is you don’t know if they are going to shoot them selves in the foot or if they are going take you down with them. Trump is like that one dirty cop in cop tv shows that always hides their friends crimes and their own.

I don’t live in the USA so I don’t know as much as a person from the there, but even I can see that this is moving backwards and not forwards.

please correct me if I am wrong on anything. I am open to criticism ^ - ^ and if you can’t already tell English is not my first language and I am no expert in politics, but my father taught (at least tried) me American politics when I was young.

-an anonymous Scandinavian ☆彡

this!! thank you so much nonnie!! there's nothing to defend with this guy, he is of no help to our country or the world

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

As an American, I need this. Please.

Skipping the queue to do this for you, because yeah. That's a solid af reason.

1k for TWATYTK:

---

If there’s one thing he knows, it’s that. Knowing what that’s like has informed so many of his parenting choices over the years. Eddie looks at his husband. He gets the religious, cultural side of it in a way Buck doesn’t. But Buck isn’t a stranger to a different genre of growing up without the necessary affection, either. More so than Eddie, maybe. 

Buck has a strange, contemplative look on his face. 

“And, uh, the open adoption part,” he says to Lourdes. “That’s so you know for sure?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, not quite following. But the way Lourdes’ face sinks, she does. She understands what Buck is saying. 

“Yeah,” Lourdes nods. “I can’t keep her. I know I can’t. But what kind of person would I be if I just… Didn’t make sure she was okay with people who love her properly?”

Eddie gets that, too. It’s the same thought process that led him to changing his will all those years ago. To changing what would have been the natural, assumed process of things in the case of his death. Chris would have been fine if Eddie died and he went to live with his parents. His physical needs would have been met. They wouldn’t have even been hard on him in the same ways they were hard on Eddie, for a number of reasons from different circumstances to ableism. But would they have loved him properly? Fought for him right? No. Eddie knows that wholeheartedly. No. 

Lourdes may not want or be able to parent this child. But she’s got that bone deep instinct that Eddie recognizes. The one where you’re desperate to make sure your child has it better and easier than you did. 

“She’s lucky,” Eddie says suddenly. Because maybe no one has told this girl that. Maybe she’s only been told that she’s fucked up. “The baby. She’s lucky.”

Lourdes blinks. Her face kind of goes blank.

“Not every kid has someone advocating for them like that,” Eddie explains. 

When Lourdes speaks again, her voice is a little shaky.

“Thank you.”

☆☆☆

They leave Pepa’s maybe an hour later. When Pepa and Maria arrived back from their walk, they did of course make Eddie and Buck tell Lourdes all about Chris. Even though Eddie is certain she’s already heard. It’s a bizarre matchmaking process that leaves Eddie with a poor taste in his mouth. Regardless, he’s glad they met Lourdes. Glad they talked to her. Even if he can be one person to make her feel like she’s not a screw up, whatever. He’ll take it. It was worth the rest of the discomfort. 

Buck is quiet as they leave. He’s got a very intense but distant look in his eyes. He’s thinking so hard Eddie worries steam is going to start coming out of his ears. Eddie feels guilty. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to be here. 

They don’t even make it down Pepa’s street before Buck pulls the vehicle over, puts it into park, and looks at Eddie. 

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks. 

“I change my mind,” Buck says. 

“What?” 

“I change my mind. We should adopt her baby.”

Eddie can’t be hearing this correctly.

“Buck,” he sighs. “Come on. You don’t have to do this because you feel bad or pressured.”

Buck shakes his head. “That’s not what this is. I really want to do it.”

“Okay, well,” Eddie huffs, a little exasperated. “You were adamantly against this a few days ago, remember? So I’m sort of confused here.”

“I can’t have a change of heart?” He asks.

“Not without me worrying that you feel backed into a corner or-or guilty…”

“I don’t!” Buck practically snaps. “I’m just fucking terrified, okay?”

Eddie feels a bit stunned. That’s not what he expected to hear. In this whole lengthy discussion, spanning over a year, about becoming parents again, Buck has never expressed fear. That’s sort of Eddie’s thing. Buck has always been the one who plows full steam ahead. Confident. Optimistic. Easy-going. But, Eddie supposes, they’ve never been this close before.

“Okay,” Eddie says gently. “Explain that to me.”

Buck takes a deep breath. “I… I liked that we had everything under control before, right?”

“Right,” Eddie nods. 

“But I… I do like the idea of helping her. Of having a little girl in October? That’s, like, so soon. That’s amazing.”

Eddie smiles a little. “Yeah, that would be pretty cool.”

Well… October 19th is less than four months away. So that’s… Scary as shit, actually? But Eddie could handle that. Of course that’s the part Buck is excited about. But, overall, yes. A little girl, sooner than they expected, does sound pretty wonderful. Even if Eddie had been super sure their next kid would be a boy. That hardly matters. 

“But, Eddie… We would have no control,” Buck says. “She could… She could change her mind. She… She could change her mind before. She could change her mind at the birth. In California, she has thirty days to take her back.” 

“Oh,” Eddie exhales, understanding. 

“I couldn’t… I couldn’t handle that, Eddie. How could I handle that? It was hard enough handing over the baby when I knew he wasn’t mine to keep, I…” Buck gulps for breath. “I don’t know if I could do it.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods. “Okay, I understand. And yeah, that would… That would be awful. It would.”

Buck breathes, clearly trying to bring himself back down.

“For what it’s worth,” Eddie says. “I don’t think she’d do that.”

“We don’t really know her,” Buck says. “I like her. She seems great. But we don’t know her.”

“No,” Eddie agrees. “We don’t. I just… I got a sense she’s really serious about setting that baby up to have a happier life than she’s had. Which is why she’d prefer two public servants to the wealthy church family.” 

“Right,” Buck mumbles. “Yeah, she did… She did seem that way.”

“But…” Eddie sighs. “I don’t think that’s the main factor here.”

[bullet-prooflove]

Trying: Clinton Skye x Reader

Tagging: @caffeinatedwoman @glazzyglaz @Racheluk @kmc1989

Companion piece to:

Downtime - You receive a phone call from Clinton when a case hits a little too close to home.

Two Weeks - Two weeks is too long to be apart.

Just How Much (NSFW) - Clinton shows you just how much he's missed you.

Good To Be Home - Clinton is happy to be home.

Love Letters - Clinton finds your love letter in his bag.

It's the undercover op that’s the last straw for you. When Clinton calls you from Baltimore to explain his case has evolved, that it requires him to disappear for a few months you lose your shit entirely.

“You’ve already been away two weeks working this case, I don’t understand…”

“You know I would come home if I could.” He had sighed as he stood at the window of his hotel room staring down across the darkening sky. There’s a storm rolling in through the west, already he can feel charge in the air as he grips the phone tightly.

“If you’ve changed your mind just tell me.” You say as you sit at the kitchen table with the fertility schedule in front of you. “You promised you’d do this with me but I’ve spent months jabbing myself in the ass for no reason.”

“Sienna.” He says softly, pinching the space between his eyes. “You know that’s not…”

“And now you’re telling me that the next time I see you will be months down the line, that it could be two months, it could be six.” You say, your voice breaking. “Why the fuck am I doing this Clinton? Why am I putting my body through hell when you can’t even be bothered to show up?”

You hang up then and Clinton, he’s left staring at the phone with his heart pounding in his chest. He doesn’t want to leave things like this with you, not when he’s about to disappear.

It’s past midnight when he gets home, the house is locked up but he can see the lamp illuminating the bedroom from the outside window. He knows you’re still twisted up about the situation between the two of you, that you won’t be sleeping tonight because you’ll be worrying about him.

When he lets himself in, he heads immediately to the bedroom because he can’t let this thing sit any longer. He finds you clad in leggings and your old academy t-shirt, curled around  his pillow. Your eyes are rimmed with red and the tears still stain your cheeks. In the bin reside the fertility drugs, the ones you’ve been taking for the past couple of months.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” You tell him as he lies down beside you. “There’s no point in trying if you’re not here.”

There’s an ache in his chest, one he feels acutely as his fingers interlink with yours. He’s always wanted a family, he thought  the two of you could have that together but his job it just keeps taking him away. It’s you that’s doing all the heavy lifting, the injections, the hormonal fluctuations, you’ve handled all of that on your own because Clinton, he’s just not there.

“I’m sorry.” He tells you, his thumb brushing away the tears that stain your cheeks. “I’m sorry that this has all been on you. I always meant to be here…”

“You need to make a choice.” You tell him and his heart breaks because he always knew it would come to this.

His job or a baby, it shouldn’t be such a hard decision but it is because all Clinton can think about are those cases in his desk drawer, the ones that he’s slowly whittling away at because of the resources his current position allows him to have. You must see the indecision on his features because your lips purse together grimly.

“Think about it while your away.” You tell him before you withdraw from the bed and head towards the bathroom. “Let me know what you decide.”

Love Clinton? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[darling-heffron]

Hello all, and welcome to the first chapter of Momento Mori!! I hope you are all excited for this new AU, I know Sol☀️ and I are very excited to be sharing this with you all. We will be posting chapters weekly and hopefully we will be able to keep on top of the workload ahaha. We will update you if this does change.

Also an overall disclaimer that this story will involve violence, gore, swearing, abuse, SA, death, non-con, family trauma, parental abuse, dead dove: do not eat, just a lot of bad things, please inform us if we have missed anything and we will add it. (We will not be adding this to every chapter, only if we think one needs some extra disclaimers, or if it going to be very bad, we will let you know. We will have a full disclaimer list on the masterlist when it gets posted.)

Also also, this work is purely fictional, based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters and no hate to the men who served in WW2.

Taglist: please let us know if you want to be added!

Chapter One: The Plan

“Do you hear me, soldier?” The Lieutenant bent forward as he screamed in Sam’s face, as if she couldn’t hear him. 

She tried her best to not recoil from him as his salvia landed on her cheek. Sam wondered what her father would say this time, another infringement in just one week. Surely, he would have some choice words for her, when doesn’t he? 

Sam couldn’t believe she spent her whole life trying to please that sorry excuse for a man. God, everything she had ever done had been for him. 

The tall woman thought she was finally earning the praise she so desired when he suggested she join the army. All for it to be about him and not her. God, how could she have been so foolish, constantly trying to please that man. 

Well now she had woken up, and Sam was angry. The blonde woman would not beg anymore, she was better than that. She would not let him treat her like she was gum on the bottom of his shoe. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” Lieutenant Jones boomed. 

“Yes, sir.” Sam yelled back, looking past the man. 

“The General will be hearing about this, Jackson.” She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. 

“Get your pack and get your ass moving, Jackson. I don’t want to see you back here until you are throwing up all over your boots!” Sam bit her tongue to keep from spitting back a retort, things were going to plan so far, she didn’t need her temper getting the best of her now.   

“Yes, sir!” Sam yelled, turning to grab her gear, hauling the heavy pack onto her back and slinging the gun over her shoulder. 

The girl moved quickly out of the barracks into the open expanse of ground that the base covered. She ran down the road into the open field, heading towards the woods at the furthest end of the territory. She couldn’t help the smirk that pulled to her lips. 

Everything was falling perfectly into place. 

Sam’s punishment had purpose, she had intentionally been sloppy all day; her bed wasn’t made, her uniform incorrect, she spoke back brazenly to her superiors, it all had snowballed to this moment. 

The blonde needed the punishment to be bad enough to get a full pack run, but it was harder than she thought. Sam had tried earlier in the week, but falling from the top of the class to the bottom was hard. She had made a name for herself for being the best of the best and so the officers turned a blind eye to her misdoings, thinking she was just having an off day. 

But when she kept up the behaviour for the second week, the officers started to notice. Sam noted that was the first time she had ever been yelled at like that by an officer. 

It wasn’t her first time being scolded, Sam’s father didn’t join the military for nothing. She had only ever known him as a cold strict man, she had never seen him smile once, not for her anyway. 

Sam didn’t see her father often though, Robert was a busy man and didn’t make time for his daughter.  

Isolated from a young age, Sam often was alone. Her own mother didn’t even make time for her, all Sam was to them was an accessory. She could count the times on one hand the amount of instances they were all together as a family. 

After her mother and father divorced, most families would fight over taking custody of their child, for Sam, she was forgotten about entirely.

Samantha’s legs moved faster carrying her towards the back fence, she checked her watch 1300hrs on the dot. She made it to the fence, slinging her pack off her back and sliding it through the cut hole at the bottom, she pushed it through to the other slide, following after it on her belly. 

She got to her feet brushing the dust from her clothes and bag before putting it on her back again. The girl needed to move away from the compound before she was spotted by one of the patrolling guards. 

If she had timed it right no one would realise she had disappeared, the next guard wasn’t due until 1330 and her Lieutenant wouldn’t be expecting her back for another hour. 

Woods surrounded the base, the dense brush hiding the whole facility. Sam slipped further into the bush, making her way towards the only main road close to the base. 

Before emerging from the bushes she redressed into more casual clothes, she didn’t need her whole attire to scream, ‘Hey look over here, I’ve just deserted and I’m running away!’

Sam stood on the side of the road, scanning up and down for one lone car. 

“Jesus Christ, what’s taking him so long?” Sam muttered to herself checking her watch for the millionth time. He was supposed to be here 15 minutes ago, if he wasn’t here soon she would have to move to plan B, and plan B was not her favourite. 

Sam sighed, her foot tapping impatiently on the tarmac. Screeching tires pulled her gaze down the street again. 

“Finally!” She said exasperatedly.

The girl watched the car zig-zag down the road. The man who was coming to pick up some army goods she had stolen for him was now careening down the street towards her. 

Why she used Craigslist she didn’t know but she was desperate for money and he seemed to be the only buyer interested in her items she had put up for sale, and he was offering her top dollar for it. 

Sam needed enough money to get her out of state and at least a few meals, then she was going to change her name and start a new life, one where she wasn’t tied to her horrible family or past. 

But now this guy was swerving all over the road, Sam watched the car speed from one side to the other. Everytime the car looked like it was just about to fly off the side of the street it swerved back onto the other side again. 

“Fucking hell, what is this crazy motherfucker doing?” Sam shook her head. The car never slowed as it came closer to her, in fact it seemed as if it was speeding up the nearer it got. 

“Hey, slow down!” She called, not thinking it would actually do anything, he couldn’t hear her yells from outside the vehicle. The car was heading towards her now, full speed, not looking like it was about to stop. 

“Fuck!” Sam screamed, leaping out of the path of the oncoming vehicle. 

She watched the events play in slow motion, the car screeched past her ploughing through the exact spot she stood only moments before. Sam crashed to the ground, her eyes never leaving the car as it sped past her. 

The blonde lay on the grass panting as the car smashed into the line of trees that bordered the road. Sam winced watching the collision, the whole front of the car imploded on impact with the trunks, the car halved in size. The whole front bonnet was now in the driver's seat. 

“Oh my fucking god!” Sam got to her feet running over to the smoking vehicle. She rounded the car to the front, the driver’s top half was sprawled across the bonnet, unmoving. 

The man clearly wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, his whole body impaled with glass, the pool of blood quickly spreading around him. 

Sam hesitated, she didn’t know what made her pause, her hand outstretched ready to check the responsiveness of the driver. But she didn’t want to touch him for some reason, he seemed off, everything about this situation seemed odd. 

She slung the gun from her shoulder, extending it forward, Sam gently nudged the man with the barrel of her weapon. The man didn’t move or react, so she tried again but harder. 

“Hey! Dude!” Sam called to him, trying to rouse him from his unconscious state. The man’s shoulders rose and fell, was he breathing? Sam couldn’t tell. She stepped closer again, eyes trained on the driver. 

“Sir?” She uttered under her breath. 

The man’s head shot up, his bloodshot eyes staring into hers. Sam stumbled backwards, the sudden movement from the person made her heart drop. A strangled groan or gasp left the man’s lips, it didn’t sound human, almost animal-like. 

Feral. 

Sam out of instinct raised her gun again, but it wasn’t loaded, all of the ammo she had was neatly tucked away in her pack. 

The driver’s eye never left hers, but he began to move. Surely all of his limbs were broken or injured, but the man wrangled his arms back to his sides. His movements were sharp and jerky, Sam had never seen someone move like that before. A loud crack nearly made her gag as she watched the man move his backwards leg back into place. 

“What the actual fuck!” She whispered under her breath. She took small steps back from the car, trying not to alert the man of her current escape. 

Ragged breathing from the driver grew louder, she watched in horror as he lifted himself off the bonnet, a long piece of glass from the windshield halted his movement forward. Sam’s eye bulged as the man pushed himself up, removing himself from the glass that was slicing into his flesh, fresh blood pooled underneath him. Questions flooded through Sam’s head but a louder voice spoke over them. 

‘RUN!’ Her mind screamed at her to move, but she stayed planted in place, watching the driver. 

In that same moment the man had gotten himself free, by the time Sam looked up again at him, he was standing in front of the wreckage. He jolted forward in a gurgling roar, Sam didn’t look back as she sprinted her way through the trees. 

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears and ragged breaths spilled from her lips. She ran as fast as she could from him. He pursued her quickly and she could hear his rabid noises following her through the trees. 

Sam darted and weaved through the branches, hoping that the uneven terrain would slow down her pursuer. The wire fence came into view, if she crawled back she could hold him off and get some assistance, it was nearly time for patrol so there would be someone in the field that she could call over. 

Sam threw her pack off her shoulder, pushing it through the cut in the fence as she had only done moments before. The footfalls of the rabid man grew closer, his snarls and screaming sending shivers up her spine. Sam used her boot to shove her bag under the fence, but it was stuck. Her now entrance to safety was blocked by the bulky army bag. Her urgency rose even further as the man was so close she could see him charging through the trees in the distance. Sam kicked harder, using both of her feet, looking over her shoulder constantly to find the man coming closer and closer with each passing second. 

“Fucking hell!” Sam cried, willing the bag to just move at her effort, “Please!” She begged, putting her full strength into her legs. 

The rabid man now almost to the fence as well, growled loudly making his presence known. The bag came free moving from the hole, Sam moved quickly sliding under the wire as well, not wanting to look back at how close he had come to catching her. 

The girl got to her feet moving back from the fence as the man charged at full speed, never slowing. The driver launched himself at Sam, arms stretched wide, jaw hanging agape. She had never seen anything like it, no person has ever acted this way. 

The rabid man didn’t get very far in his attack, the chain link stopping him in his path, he ricocheted backwards landing in a heap on the ground. But much to Sam’s surprise he was back on his feet in no time, clawing and yanking at the barrier between them.      

“Hey, you!” A loud voice called from behind her, pulling her eyes from the crazy driver that gurgled and groaned. A guard walked towards her, his hand on his hip, ready to draw at any second. She raised her hands to show she meant no harm. 

“Sir, I can explain.” She replied breathlessly, but the guard's attention was drawn away from her as the driver roared loudly. 

They both turned to see the man had found his way under the fence, he clawed at the ground ferociously. 

Sam cringed, she could see from here the man’s fingernails ripping away from his flesh. 

Before she could even warn the guard, the driver had wiggled his way in. The driver leapt like he did before when he was coming after Sam, but this time there was nothing stopping his attack, the guard didn’t even have time to draw his weapon. 

The rabid man’s body crashed into the guards tackling them to the ground. Sam stepped back towards the fence. The driver baring his teeth, teared into the guard’s neck, blood spurting from the carotid artery that he had found so easily. 

The guard wailed in pain, trying to get the man off him. More voices sounded from across the field; the man's screams of pain had alerted the other guards.

Sam watched, her back pressed against the fence, as the driver lifted his head. The man stood focussing on the guards approaching, standing over the man who clutched at his neck choking breaths leaving his mouth. 

The driver once more sprinted towards the guards who came closer, but Sam didn’t need to see the rest, she had to get out of there. Once again she slid under the chain link fence, tugging her bag through with her. 

Sam ran quickly back to the road, her gun bouncing over her shoulder. She examined the car but it was completely totaled, she wouldn’t be able to drive it anywhere. The girl didn’t waste any time, she swung open the back doors, noting nothing of use. 

“Guess its plan fucking B then.”  

Authors note:

What did we all think of the first chapter?! Please let us know in the comments. Also stay tuned as the next chapter will be out shortly, if you would like to be notified when we post please let us know and we can add you to the tag list!! Did we scare you? Are you creeped out? Do you like Sam? hehehheehe

Love Esra ✨

[blue-mood-blue]

I can pinpoint the moment that destroyed my life today:

It’s been a handful of weeks since Murderbot came within inches of having a new, organic governor module implanted in its head via infection - do you think, maybe, that’s also been hiding behind the redacted? Not the way everything else is, just as a deep-seated reminder of what it can’t afford to lose?

What a way to be told “I love you” - to be told “I will not lose you, I will not let go, I will do the hard part of holding on even if you don’t want me to”

[demigodofhoolemere]

Trying to find nice stuff for Wish but everywhere you go people are being painfully wrong in their interpretations of the movie

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Outdrawn

f/f contemporary romance

two cartoonist who’ve been rivals since uni, and now have competing webcomics online, have to work together on the relaunch of a cult classic at the comic press they both work at

they both struggle with art-related physical and mental health issues, and complicated families

[blueikeproductions]

Hasbro has always had a terrible ability to read the room, nor have they ever really truly cared about their IP that much.

The Marvel team submitted a fake script where half the cast died horribly by sheep droids just to see if Hasbro was paying attention. Their suspicions were confirmed when Hasbro didn’t bat an eye at the ludicrous script and just submitted some casual notes.

Hasbro REALLY wanted Optimus to die in the 80’s film, despite being warned multiple times not to do that. And naturally they were shocked when killing Optimus traumatized so many children, and had no choice but to bring Optimus back.

Hasbro couldn’t make up their minds on whether they wanted to renew Beast Wars and RiD15, so each series had their own way of referencing that. Beast Wars would have their cliffhanger endings end with “The End?” or “To Be Continued…?” because had the series been canceled in S2 specifically, …Megatron won. He hands down won even if he made the time stream swiss cheese at that point.

RiD15 wrote each season to be self contained, having a final bad guy they’d defeat and then ride off into the sunset. RiD15 didn’t commit to anything that big like Prime did probably for this reason. RiD15 was also bragged about by Hasbro in particular how well it did at the time, as like it or not, RiD was very successful with its target audience, and even the grumpiest veteran fan had to admit the monster Decepticons were cool, with Steeljaw being very popular. The popularity of Decepticons like Bisk and Springload are why they got toys at all, as Hasbro initially didn’t want to make toys of certain characters.

They were incredibly unhelpful in the development of Netflix WFC, forcing the writers to make all their outlandish ideas work. One such idea they insisted on before backing off was trying to make WFC canon to the 80’s cartoon… when absolutely nothing the show was trying to do made sense for the 80’s cartoon. It’s also pretty apparent the original intent for the toys was to adapt the movie and season three, but at the last minute they threw in Beast Wars, which is why you confusingly have Rodimus and Cyclonus in a Beast Wars line, but not including them in the cartoon at all despite using Galvatron… Beast Wars also wasn’t supposed to factor in the show was it was originally supposed to end with the Transformers awakening on Earth in the 80’s.

Hasbro really wanted a Legacy cartoon on Netflix, as they were happy with WFC… despite fans rejecting the show hard during Earthrise and the ratings in the toilet. Netflix understandably passed on making more since the other show didn’t do them favors.

So Hasbro reps being brain dead about the clear apathy and disinterest in EarthSpark from audiences since day one doesn’t surprise me. Even fans of ES have turned their back on the show to the point some TF YouTubers point this out when discussing the very abrupt transition from ES to CyberWorld and Wild King, that’s how bad it’s gotten. Like you don’t immediately fast track CyberWorld if EarthSpark was doing well, and Takara finally just going “Up yours, we’re doing our own thing” after years of failures post Animated.

I don’t buy for an instant EarthSpark is continuing on into 2026 alongside CyberWorld as the old planning document states, like do fans not understand plans change on a dime? I sooner see some final episodes already in the tank trickling out next year to coincide with what has been stated to be a last minute small extension to ES. Cyber Glow Megatron screams final power up in that context, but ES isn’t very great at advertising its toy gimmicks so who’s to say. But I think ES having a last minute extension sounds like they’re largely intending to abandon it after Cosmos and Scareglow Megs comes out. We already know they’re working on CyberWorld with new toys ready to go, the same with Takara working on Wild King, so any chance of guys like Terratronus, the Insecticons and Hardtop getting proper toys are next to none in their own cartoon’s toy line.

Age of the Primes is probably the only place these guys get something, at least some of the Terrans would make sense for Quintus’ toy. Though with how much Thrash and Twitch toys I see on clearance I’m skeptical.

So there was an interview posted today with Hasbro Entertainment president Olivier Dumont. Looks like more ES episodes are still coming:

Here's the article if anyone wants to read it. I have to say that ES being mentioned like an afterthought after Peppa Pig of all things is pretty damning considering how Hasbro has been treating ES lately.

[j-esbian]

i lost the post but i saw someone talking about how some of y’all act like being weird is a choice and like. YEAHHHHHHH.

that’s fine, it might be for you. but i just live like this and don’t know any other way. like yeah i’ve worked customer service, i can do innocuous small talk, but anything beyond that, i don’t understand what i’m missing. and it’s frustrating to see the tonal disconnect especially from people who are like “uwu embrace weirdness!!” where they’re like. dressing quirky and talking about bugs and listening to obscure music and eschewing small talk to ask Deep Questions on the first date and unlearning their tendency to not infodump. and generally have an idea of what Weirdness is supposed to look like. idk man some of us wake up and get out of bed and can’t figure out why the rest of their coworkers chitchat with each other but when they join the conversation it dies.

weirdness is value neutral. let’s stop trying to turn it into a badge because quite frankly, it’s not a choice for everyone. it’s fucking exhausting to never be on the same wavelength as other people and they’re going to react the way they do and label you the way they will without any conscious actions on your end. it’s difficult to talk about this without feeling like you’ll be dismissed as immature, a teenager whining “no one understands me” but the thing is. sometimes you don’t grow out of feeling alone and different, and there’s no good way to talk about it without feeling like people will think you’re just fishing for pity.

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else