#I lied I stayed up and made this anyways even though I should definitely be sleeping oops

[rafesdollette]

GHOSTED — childhood best friends

x BABYDOLL!reader

SUMMARY: almost eight years of no contact after leaving obx, you run into your childhood best friend at a New Years celebration.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

AUTHORS NOTE: bombpop series yay or nay?? i'm also tired and lowkey high off the paint fumes in my room so if something doesn't make sense, look away.

WARNINGS: mention of drug and alcohol addiction, kinda angsty

You never thought you'd come back, no one did. Leaving outer banks was tough on everyone that knew you, but Rafe struggled the most. So bad, that after six months of 'keeping in touch' through texts and long video calls, he cut you out of his life.

It all happened slowly. The rush to get off calls, one word responses to texts. Then one day everything just stopped completely. No explanation ever came either, which made it all worse for you.

Rafe didn't do it to hurt you of course, he wouldn't do that to you. He just couldn't take not seeing you in person or helping you sneak out of your house at night to go walk on the beach or doing stupid stuff to piss off Sarah.

He missed you dearly, especially the small silly things like saying "over the sun" instead 'over the moon' when you were happy about something.

So he took the solution he thought was best at the time, and just disappeared. But as he grew older, the more he came to regret his decision and realized his feelings we're much deeper.

He didn't care how many people told him he was 'too young' to know what love was at that time, he loved you. And there's probably a huge part of him that still does.

So that's why he's been staying cooped up at home since he heard you were back and visiting the island. He definitely wanted to see you, but what was he even supposed to say when he did? There was a plethora of things he wanted to say but he was never good with words, so he wasn't even sure where he was supposed to start.

He knew he wouldn't be able to avoid you the whole time you were on the island but he didn't expect to see you so soon, he hadn't prepared. He probably should have figured you'd come to the gathering for new years at tannyhill, it was always your favorite part of the year.

He's positive he looks like a weirdo right now, practically hiding behind Kelce to stop you from seeing him. “Dude just go talk to her, she won't kill you.” Kelce said, trying to nudge him forward.

“Hell, she might! She's probably still pissed.” Rafe mumbles as he continues to attempt staying out of sight.

“I doubt she's still holding that grudge, Rafe.” Kelce remarked with an eye roll.

Rafe knew he was probably annoying the hell out of his friend right now, but he couldn't help it. He was scared and anxious, which was new for him. He was typically very sure of himself but he felt an immense amount of guilt for pushing you away all of those years ago.

“Well, you're spotted anyway” Kelce said, nodding towards you on the other side of the backyard, looking at Rafe as Sarah pointed towards him.

“Shit.” Rafe muttered, hesitating for a moment before awkwardly waving in your direction.

He expected you to just wave back and get back to whatever you were doing, maybe even ignore him. But you walked back over to him. fuck.

“Uh, hi...y/n” Rafe said, avoiding eye contact

“Hey, Rafe.” You respond with a slight smile. You were glad to see him, despite what he did.He's not sure why, but a little bit of his tension relived when you spoke. At least you didn't seem too upset yet.

“So uh...how have you been?” He asked hesitantly.

“I've been...okay. I graduated high school a couple of years ago and now I'm majoring in fashion design. Not much is new besides that. How about you though?” He knew you would be doing good things with your life, you always said you would.

“I've been good too, nothing new.” He lied. Well actually, it wasn't a full lie. Nothing huge was actually new with him. He was just leaving out the part about his drinking problems and drug addiction.

You could tell that he was hiding something, but you didn't press him on it. You knew he wouldn't tell you anyway. Maybe with a little more time. “You've changed.” You said softly.

He didn't respond at first, instead looking away.

“Yeah, I guess I have..you've changed too.” He said, taking in how you had grown. You honestly looked exactly how he imagined you growing up.

“It has been a while, hasn't it? Eight years, at least.” you said

He nods in agreement “Too long…” he muttered. He knew he could've reached out again at any time, so why didn't he? He honestly didn't know. He had missed you, he'd thought of you often. But something had kept him from contacting you.

You noticed his distant expression and wondered what he could be thinking about. You thought back to the day you left, the day you both promised each other to stay in touch. And that promise remained, until it just...didn't.

At first, you waited for his message. Then you hoped for a call. But as months turned to years and still no contact from him, you figured he just didn't care anymore.

“Hey, how about we go for a walk on the beach? Like we used to?” He suggests. Though it was clear it wasn't really a suggestion, more of a demand since he already started walking towards his car and expecting you to follow.

“Oh, uh sure.” you agree, walking with him as he leads you to his car.

The car ride is mostly silent besides the occasional awkward small talk and the quiet music playing on the radio.

As you both walked along the shoreline, the only sounds were the soft crashing of the waves and your footsteps in the sand. It was all so familiar, but still awkward. Neither of you knew where to even start.

The silence continued for a while longer until he spoke up, breaking the quiet. “I'm sorry” he starts in a whisper “I should've given you some sort of explanation or not have ghosted you in the first place. It wasn't at all fair to you and I just...” he sighs, running a hand down his face. Why was it so hard to put his thoughts into words?

“Rafe...” he waves a hand, cutting you off before you can utter anything else. He just needed to get this out already, he's been holding it in for way too long.

You weren't expecting an apology, at least this soon. Rafe had never been the type to admit he was wrong, you knew that. So why he was apologizing to you, the girl he hadn't seen since he was thirteen, was obscure.

“I missed you a lot, okay?” He begins again after a moment of silence. “I know I should have just waited for you to come visit.”

“I really wanted to keep in contact with you, to call you or text you or...anything, really. But every time I tried, I would freeze up. I thought keeping in touch would still be like you were here. But, it wasn't. I felt like I had to do something to deserve hearing from you. And I couldn't think of anything.” He admitted, feeling pretty pathetic about the whole thing. He never had any kind of trouble talking to people, it was something he was good at. But now he was unable to even type a simple message to you.

You could see that he was really beating himself up over the whole situation, and you didn't particularly enjoy seeing that. “It's okay, Rafe. I understand.” You said, though honestly, you don't.

“No, it's not!” he retorted, getting irritated with himself all over again. “I should've done something.” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. Why hadn't he just sucked it up and sent you a stupid text years ago?

You didn't really have a way to respond to that. So you just continued walking until the silence became too heavy once more.

“Look.” Rafe sighed, stopping in his tracks and turning towards you. “I'm sorry. I've already said that multiple times, I know. But I truly am.” he mumbled, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “I'm not sure why I'm even telling you this, but I guess I was just hoping that...maybe we could start over?” He said slowly.

Start over? What did that even entail? You were torn. You missed the friendship you both had all those years ago. And the idea of rekindling it was nice. Still, the bitterness and confusion inside made it hard to fully trust him. “How would we even do that? I haven't seen you in years, we're practically strangers now.” You state.

He was expecting a little bit of resistance, but it still stung a bit to hear it from you. “I know it's been a long time, but..” he paused, searching for the words to make you understand, “look, I miss this.” he said, waving a hand between the two of you. “I've missed you, I've missed being able to talk to you. The last what, eight years? I've just.. I've been feeling like something has been missing but I couldn't figure out what. And now I realize it's...it's you.”

[larcenywrites]

how do creed/logan act if they find out their partner is expecting?

Tbh I think they would know even before their partner 😅 super senses and all, yk? So I went with that angle! It’s nothing special, but I could always do something more fleshed out for each one later on. Maybe like how I did my Tony Stark family stuff 🤔

Reactions to Pregnancy

Logan Howlett x Reader

Victor Creed x Reader

Warnings: pregnancy mentions obviously | like two sexual references but they’re more on the mild side

Logan

Terrified. He probably picks up on it before even you, or, at least, before you tell him, but tbh he might be the one to tell you 😅 that nose never lies, but pregnancy probably still doesn’t really cross his mind at first… it’s when he suddenly hears an extra heartbeat nearby, and a rapid one at that, that he actually has to connect the dots. And yet, he still won’t bring it up! He’s nervous, a little more tense than usual, but for now he’s probably choosing to, ah… not ignore it per se? Maybe he’s trying to come to terms with it himself before you find out… by ignoring it!

But he can’t ignore it anyway because now when hears you trying to sneak up on him from behind, it’s not just you anymore. It’s quite literally following him around and keeping him up at night, and maybe hearing a quick pulse naturally puts him on edge anyway. He’s probably damn near falling apart! Is he terrified? Yes. Anxious? Yes. Low key wondering how he could let this happen?? Kinda! But then again, he is the one who ditches the condom like once a month in favor of his little kink… He was already beating himself up a little about being a terrible choice for a father, but now he’s really cursing himself because he of all people should know actions have consequences!!!

Not to mention: What if he passes on his mutation?? Shit, there might be yet another genetically perfect killer on the loose soon!

With a sigh, he finds himself tapping a finger or two on your lower tummy in thought. He knows that, regardless, he’s doing everything he can to keep you- both of you- safe. And all this stress ain’t for nothing— in fact, it’s already made him a little attached to that unnamed heartbeat!

You’re probably not gonna notice too much difference in his usual behavior other than he seems more tense and unfocused lately. He always tends to be the big spoon, he usually ends a day with rubs and nuzzles, he’s always tuned in to what you’re doing— what will be different though is him being more reluctant to leave for missions (probably a little huffy about it even), and a whole lot more cuddlier than usual the night before! And in the case that you’re a fellow x-men, it’s not out of the ordinary for him to keep an eye on you, but it is definitely weird for him to challenge the set plan just to stay by your side, and the pot is finally boiling over when he starts telling you that you can’t come on missions altogether… which probably leads to everybody arguing! Hell, you may still not even know you’re pregnant at this point, but Logan has to say it because otherwise he’s really looking like the bad guy here!

Minus the fifty questions you probably have for him, he is relieved that this whole pregnancy thing isn’t just on his shoulders now. But now that you do know, he’s definitely relieved that he can be a little more affectionate without being questioned! At some point he definitely ended up nuzzling under your shirt and has decided to just lie there for probably the rest of the evening with his very tiny baby 🥰

And come on, Logan loves the students! Even if it is in his own grumpy way! He really shouldn’t be so worried about being dad material 😘

Victor

Again, he probably picks up on it before you do, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he knows what he’s sensing! But what he does know is that you smell delightful, and all he finds himself doing that night he first notices is rubbing against your shoulder and nuzzling into your neck. It’s easy to just laugh off his spontaneous cat-like affections, and even easier to succumb to the licking and nipping without much thought 😘

It’s rather late one night when he’s coming home, and while he always aware of each pulse that should normally be around, there’s definitely a new one… He probably thinks it’s a rat that got in the wall or something at first! Now on the hunt and prowling around, he’s a tad confused when he’s led to your sleeping form in the bed. Just as his nose never lies, neither does his hearing! He’s not dumb, he knew exactly what it meant as soon as he made it to the bed.

Eh, honestly he’s probably more surprised it hasn’t happened sooner 😅 He’s probably wildly inconsistent with protection, definitely has a breeding kink anyway, and has probably taken the condom off without you even noticing before… Even so, he still definitely didn’t plan it! Well- probably.

Still flopped over you with a big ol arm over your waist and nuzzling into your neck, he’s probably purring way more than you’ve ever heard him purr before. Enough to wake you up at 4 in the morning! You’ll have to lift his big ol head from your chest to get his attention, and he’ll just outright tell you! He’s one of the best trackers in the world, so there’s no reason to doubt him… that and it’s not every occasion that you’ll see him kneading happily at the blankets!

Ah- maybe he has done… questionable things, both when it comes to family and not-family… But, really, there's no need to worry! This hellcat is quite fond of kids, so while you may be a little anxious over the sudden news, Victor is unfazed enough for the both of you! Besides, he’s more than capable of keeping both you and a kid safe, and he’s had plenty of challenges in his 200+ years, surely he can handle raising a kid. Plus, he has a kid or two out there that he didn’t raise himself, so he’s probably pretty excited about this one ;3 But he does kinda hope he passes down his mutation…

The only downside as far as behavior goes is he’s now ultra protective and nosey (not that you could ever hide anything from him anyway), and now he’s dragging home tons of trinkets and jewelry and blankets and maybe even an entire turkey one time 😅

[moonstruckme]

Hi!! I just recently discovered your blog and I’m in love with your Spencer fic’s. :)) Could you perchance write one where reader is sick and Spencer takes care of her??

Hi lovely, thanks for requesting <3

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 792 words

“I’m fine,” you croak. 

“You’re not fine,” says Spencer, stirring honey into your tea. “You let this go too long without resting, and now it’s bad.” 

You inhale, looking like you’re going to disagree, but a coughing fit supersedes you. The force of it bends you over, and Spencer rubs your back, wincing. You sound like you’re hacking up a lung.

“Okay,” you say once you can, still coughing weakly. “You’re right, I’m dying.” 

“You’re not dying either.” A smile tugs at his lips. “You just need to rest. Is anything bothering you, other than your throat?” 

You shake your head. 

Spencer eyes you skeptically, passing over your tea. You’re infamous for this sort of downplaying. You’d been so good at covering up that you were feeling sick that even your FBI profiler boyfriend hadn’t been able to spot it until a couple of days ago, and even then you’d managed to convince him it was mild enough to go to work until he’d heard you coughing in the shower this morning. Spencer still isn’t sure if, when he’d come home today to find you flushed and miserable in the bed, you’d gotten worse or only stopped hiding it. 

 “Really, nothing?” he asks. “You don’t have any other symptoms?” 

You shrug. “Just other normal sick stuff.” 

“Tell me about them. How do you feel?” 

You frown, blowing on your tea. “Hot and dry. I feel like my entire body needs chapstick. And I’m tired, I guess.” 

Spencer frowns. He brushes a piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers stoke down your overwarm cheek. “You look terrible,” he says. 

You snort. Your cough latches onto it as an opportunity, and you launch into another fit. “Ow,” you wheeze, putting a hand to your chest. “Thanks, you’re really—really wooing me, Spence.” 

“No, I’m sorry,” he laughs, somewhat nervously. “I just meant that you look so sad, honey. I don’t like seeing you so sick.” 

“Me neither,” you admit. You take a scratchy breath in, deep as you can without it catching. You look like you’re savoring it. 

He feels his eyebrows draw together compassionately. “You should try to sleep.” 

“It’s barely six. I don’t want to sleep.” 

“You don't have to wait until it’s late to go to sleep. It might make you feel better.” 

“I know, I just…I don’t want to.” 

Spencer looks at you for a while, thinking of what to do with you. Your tea is still too hot to drink. He’d bought you cough drops on his way home, but you’d already had so many throughout the day that now you say they’re making your mouth feel sore and raw, and you don’t want to take them if you can help it. Maybe he could have you gargle saltwater…

“You should stay at your place tonight,” you tell him gently. “I don’t want to get you sick.” 

He knew you would say that. He’s practically moved into your apartment, though he keeps his basically as a storage unit at this point. Whereas Spencer has filled his apartment with enough things for one person (one towel hook in the bathroom, one nightstand, only one really good pillow on the bed), your apartment looks like you’ve always assumed you’d eventually share it. The first time Spencer came over, you already had fuzzy socks for guests, enough towels for an army, and two really, really great pillows on the bed. It made him realize that his apartment was really just a place to sleep; yours was a home. He never wants to leave, but certainly not while you’re like this.

“I won’t get sick,” he lies. (He definitely will. He’s already been exposed to you for days already and his immune system has never had his back.) “And anyway, how will I teach you chess from my apartment?” 

You groan. 

“This is really the best time,” Spencer says, going into the living room to grab the chess board you’d let him keep here. “You’ll never have more free time than when you’re sick. And this way, you won’t get bored.” 

“Sure about that?” you ask wryly as he comes back in, but you’re smiling. 

“Unless you want to try to sleep?” 

You look like you’re actually considering it. “When I was little and I got sick, I used to play mad libs.” 

Spencer feels his face screw up. “I don’t really like that game. They never make any sense at the end.” 

“That’s the point,” you laugh. A weak cough follows it. “Anyway, I’m sick. I promise I’ll let you teach me to play chess soon.” 

“You’re sick,” he allows, setting the chess board on the floor. Not that you don’t get what you want the rest of the time anyway.

[cobragardens]

The Golden Lion

For all that Aziraphale is the more frightened of the two of them, Crowley is the snake: he camouflages himself carefully, and his first instinct is always to flee.

Aziraphale's is to stay. He insists on facing the Apocalypse. He insists on facing the Second Coming. He insists on trying to make a difference. He doesn't want to go up to Heaven, but he does it anyway, alone, because he wants to stop the destruction of Earth (again) and keep Crowley safe.

He's very difficult to shame, too. He never gives up his innocent pleasure in eating, even though Heaven, Hell, and probably people on Earth all mock him for it. He's soft and he remains soft, even after Gabriel shames him for both his physical and metaphorical softness. That takes a lot of strength and an unshakeable character.

You know the gold ring Aziraphale wears as a badge of office, that functions as the counterpart to Crowley's snake tattoo? The charge on that ring is a lion.

The heraldic attitude of the lion is rampant (i.e., reared up): it stands on its hind legs with its forelegs raised, as though attacking, and its head is forward-facing: it looks forward, toward the future.

Obviously in popular symbolism, lions represent bravery, and that definitely fits Aziraphale. He's literally leaving the only person who has ever loved him to go make the universe a better place for that person and for everyone, and he's going alone amongst the people who have despised and shamed him his whole existence and tried to kill him at least once; those people are mfing Heaven and have been entrenched in their power for thousands or millions of years. It doesn't get a whole lot braver than that.

In Christian symbolism specifically, the lion represents Christ. (He's referred to in the book of Revelation as the "lion of Judah" because the heraldic symbol for the tribe of Judah was a lion and Jesus was said to be from the tribe of Judah because his [step]father Joseph was from Judah.)

Normally when a story draws a parallel between a character and Christ, the parallel is one of self-sacrifice. That's not what's happening here. When symbolism for Christ represents his self-sacrifice, Jesus is invariably associated with a lamb--the sacrificial lamb--not a lion. When that symbolism represents Christ's mercy or holiness or divine nature/ordination, the dove of the Holy Spirit is used.

But the lion is a symbol inherited from the Old Testament. It represents royalty, power, threat, and seizure from others by force. Jesus is symbolically depicted as the lion upon his return to Earth during the book of Revelation. The lamb is Jesus' self-sacrifice and death for the sins of humanity, but the lion is Jesus' return, powerful, royal, and triumphant.

Does Aziraphale's ring foreshadow his involvement in the Second Coming of Christ? Probably! Is it a symbol that Heaven is the proverbial (and biblical) "lions' den" where they should be doves and lambs? Maybe.

I think it more likely that Aziraphale himself will be the lion, on a righteous rampage like Jesus chasing the moneylenders from the steps of the temple, telling them "It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves." Because the ring is a signet ring, meant to impress a seal that legally represented the wearer as an individual. So the lion is linked to Aziraphale himself.

Aziraphale is soft. It is one of his very best qualities. And soft and weak are not the same thing: because he is soft, he tried to kill the Antichrist, a child. Because he is soft, he stood alone before a demon in defiance of the will of Heaven and demanded with no power whatsoever to back him up that the demon spare children whose murder God had authorized. He, an angel of God, worked with a demon to deceive the Heavenly Host and, as he points out himself, thwart the will of God. Even before that, because he was soft, Aziraphale gave humans the gift of fire and self-protection and then lied to God Herself about it. I mean it literally does not get any more courageous than that.

And I can't stop thinking about what that lion, and that softness, and the link between the two is going to mean for S3.

[yaksha-lover]

i’m obsessed with the thought of vil falling for someone who’s ugly. especially if it’s a forced proximity trope. triple points if it’s enemies to lovers!

there’s just something about a guy obsessed with beauty is shown that beauty doesn’t equal to value that melts me

omg i actually was obsessed with this concept a few months ago and i wrote a very short unfinished drabble (set in medieval au) about knight!vil falling for ‘ugly’ knight!reader but i didn’t think anyone would want to read about an ‘ugly’ reader 😭😭

i definitely agree tho the concept is so perfect for vil imo. like the idea of this guy who’s so fixated and obsessed with beauty (especially one who’s potentially been told that much of his worth lies in his looks) who ends up falling for someone very unconventional completely unintentionally. like theres’s a whole internal struggle in him that he doesn’t want to fall in love with this person. they’re an enemy, and unattractive at that.

but then he just can’t help but falling in love with their character; when they give hope to him and represent a goodness that he’d lost. someone who is called ugly and unwanted everyday by the world and manages to keep their head held high even if tears are pouring down their cheeks.

i think that’s a quality he’d admire a lot; kindness even when the world has been unkind. he wants to be good like that too. in a way, you’re like a mirror of the kind of goodness he wants to see in himself. you’re made fun of and put down at every turn and yet you do not let that stop you from being nice. whenever someone mocks vil, he can’t let it go, he can’t let himself be kind because it hurts and that’s the only protection he’s found.

also the idea of consciously thinking someone is unattractive but unconsciously starting to notice their eyes and lips and desire settling in- help-

unfinished drabble under the cut 👉👈 (also its fem reader bc i think medieval gender roles and the idea of ‘ugly’ woman x hot man couple is kind of important to the theme lol - aka this is just jaime x brienne rewritten but anyway-)

Vil truly believed you were ugly when he first met you. He almost never truly meant the term, but in this case, it was appropriate. Most everyone you encountered agreed. He could tell by how you’d stayed stone-faced at his cruel taunts, apparently used to it. Your features were just a bit too extreme, too out of place, too different. He’d used your appearance against you, scratching at every insecurity you’d thought of and probably some you hadn’t. Still, you hadn’t gotten angry as he’d hoped. You didn’t seek to harm him, even when he knew he’d struck a sore spot.

He persevered, but you’d never given in, despite his hopes that you would become blinded enough by anger and pain to give him a chance to escape. He admired you, in a way. It seemed as though life had beaten you down long before he’d come along, but a hardened rock had emerged from the erosion.

Sometimes his words would cut too deep for you to ignore. You never did anything rash, to his dismay, but he could tell they affected you. He didn’t feel bad; why should he? He was your hostage, and you his captor. Even if you were performing your duty, you were getting in the way of his own responsibilities, his life.

Vil was surprised to learn that you were a high-born like himself. Well, not exactly born to a family of his status and wealth, but a high-born nonetheless. He’d realized that he should’ve been addressing you with your Lady title, but you’d fought at soon as he’d tried.

No matter my origin, you know that no man sees me as a lady, Sir Vil.

-

They came, and they cut off his hair. One of them taunted him for being a beautiful husk. So they’d cut a deep gash across his face. Now your outside matches your inside, ‘Sir’, they’d mocked.

Vil had wished they’d cut off his head instead.

Later, after you’d managed to convince them to let you treat his wounds, he’d bemoaned to you.

Now we’re both grotesque, he’d said, a pair of freaks.

You’re not ugly, you just have a scar, you’d replied. You turned away from your task to face him. You’ll never know what it means to be ugly.

Even with his bitter remarks, you treated his wounds all the same. When he was too afraid to face himself in the reflection of the lake, you’d been the one to peel away his bandages and force him to look.

See, you’d said, not a monster, just a man.

He’d wondered if you were an angel at that moment, a saint. Or maybe you were a witch destined to lead him astray. He hadn’t really cared either way.

[angel-kyo]

Pay it no mind

Part XIV

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself. There is a mention of reader being injured, and I guess everyone is ooc here, but thank you for bearing with me.

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII

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

A week. Seven full days of silence. When was the last time you had gone this long without any contact with Satoru?

No calls. No messages. Not even a glimpse of him. You had learned from Ijichi that he had been sent on a mission to a distant part of the country just a couple days ago. In other words, there was nowhere to see him.

Initially, it had been a relief. After he left on that fateful night, and you allowed your feelings out. It was only then that it hit you: you had never cried over his rejection. It had hurt, and you had grieved in some way, but maybe by immediately pretending it had never happened, you had prevented yourself from accepting heartbreak.

The truth was just too scary to accept, so you had told Satoru the same lies you had been telling yourself for the past months. ��It was just a crush’, ‘It has passed’, ‘I’m over it’.

“Liar,” you muttered to your own reflection on the bathroom mirror. Dark bags were starting to form under the eyes that returned your gaze.

Your back was sore and your sleep had not been the best during the last few days.

At first, you had been upset with Satoru, and then upset with yourself for not being able to just dodge the hit and play it cool.

Satoru must have known how much of an unpleasant memory it was for you. Why did he have to bring up the rejection again?

He was not that dense, and neither were you. Your friendship had often felt as both of you stepping right on the line between friends and lovers. Sometimes one of you would lose balance and almost fall on either side of it. Even if both of you denied it, none of you had a similar relationship with anyone else. Still, you believed he had given you the definitive push the day he rejected you.

If he could not feel the same, you could respect that. In fact, you had vowed to just forget it. But why did he have to kiss you while being aware of the hold he had on you?

It’s probably nothing to him, that’s why.

You remembered what Shoko had told you once.

“He is a bit selfish when it comes to you,” Shoko said softly, putting her head on your shoulder.

It must have been summer with how hot it was, and you could see droplets of sweat forming on Shoko’s forehead. You and she were sitting on a bench, outside of a convenience store. She had sent Geto and Gojo for drinks inside.

Satoru had initially said that Shoko and Suguru should go, but Ieiri had refused, saying she was getting a heatstroke and needed to sit down, with you to keep her company. Gojo rolled his eyes but let Suguru pulled him into the store anyway.

“Are you really feeling unwell?”

She only smiled.

At the beginning of your friendship with Suguru and Shoko, Satoru had wanted for all of you to get along, but he was not particularly appreciative of you spending too much time with either of them without him. He had loosened up quickly, though, but Shoko and Suguru were an exception. If he could keep you by his side, he would.

He could not take it back. All he had said and done; all the ways he made it look like there was more to it when there was not.

He can’t take any of it back, and neither can I. Paying it no mind is not going to solve it either.

You looked at your phone. You had sent Satoru a message earlier, just to make sure he was okay. Not that you should worry; he was strong, and if the world had not yet collapsed under curses, he was probably still alive. However, it was not like him to stay away from you this long with nothing but radio silence in between.

I guess I did kick him out, so I can’t blame him.

You washed your face and went to bed, not bothering to take your phone back to the bedroom. You needed to sleep, and the only person you cared to chat with at the moment had not even read your message.

***

“Okay, this one is it. Just try it out.” Satoru patted the mattress of the queen size bed he had found at the department store you were currently at.

You sat down. “It’s… It’s okay,” you said.

To Satoru, you did not sound impressed at all. “Just okay?”

You nodded. “Comfortable.”

“Is that how you try out a mattress? Do you sleep sitting up, [name]?” he asked smiling as he laid down on the sample bed.

You looked around. None of the other clients were really looking at you, too focused on their own shopping to care, but still…

“It’s kind of embarrassing.” You directed your eyes back to Satoru.

“It’s not, and it’s the only right way to do it,” Satoru said smiling and patting the mattress again so you would lay down too, which you finally did.

“And?” he asked.

The ceiling lights of the store were a little too bright, but if you focused only on how the mattress felt, it was indeed comfortable.

You had just signed the lease for your first apartment and getting some furniture was the next thing on your to-do list to become an independent person. Among the basics, having something to sleep on would be nice. That is how Satoru had accompanied you shopping for your first mattress.

“It’s more than okay,” you admitted.

“You should get it then.”

“How much is it, though?” Your eyes widened a bit after looking at the price, and you got up from the spot immediately. "Forget it. It's one zero too much."

I wouldn’t be surprised if they charged for just trying it.

Satoru, on the other hand, could not have looked more unbothered even if he tried. This was why going shopping with him and a budget in mind was useless.

“If this is the one you like, I would not mind…”

You shook your head. “No way. I have a budget, I just need to stick to it,” you reassured him. “Besides, this one would not even fit in my bedroom.”

Of course, he would not mind lending you money. He might not even ever ask you to pay back, but this was your quest for independence. You would rather not to lean on his resources. It was the same reason you had declined Yaga’s offer to crash at the school dorms, even though now that you were starting your teaching career there, it might have been convenient. It was going to be nice to have your own space, plus, now that all your former classmates had left, the dorms were too empty and too full of memories at the same time.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” A store clerk had spotted you and landed next to you. The woman was quick to compliment the model ‘you two’ had chosen.

Satoru had sat up and was now looking at her. When she looked at him more closely, her words halted, and a light blush appeared on her cheeks.

Right, that’s the effect he has on people.

You mentally thanked Satoru for being so good-looking that people would become speechless on his presence and allow you to speak instead.

“Actually,” you started, “this is not quite what I’m looking for.”

“Oh, well…” She seemed to have recovered from the momentary shock of first meeting Satoru’s face, “We have some other options that are preferred by couples. I will be glad to show you…”

You and Satoru shared a small smile. Another one, huh?

“We are not…” he said.

“We are friends,” you stated.

“Oh, sorry.” Her smile looked sincere, “Then is there anything you are looking for in particular?”

“Are there any�� smaller options?” you asked hopeful. Maybe she had some cheaper ones too.

She nodded politely and asked you to follow her to another area of the store.

“Smaller?” Satoru had stood up to follow you. “How will we both sleep in it?” He was smirking.

You elbowed him, and he was kind enough to pretend it had hurt.

“Don’t say anything else that will confuse the lady,” you hissed and he chuckled.

That day, Satoru pretty much ended up picking your bed. It was not as big as he had wanted it, but it was comfortable enough and, to your delight, within budget. The only downside to Satoru was that it would require a bit of effort for both of you to fit in.

***

“Fancy seeing you here.” Satoru sat across from Shoko at her table in the school cafeteria.

She had decided to take a break from reviewing files at the infirmary and usually, she would not go to the cafeteria, but you had pulled her there so many times that her feet had carried her there almost automatically.

She looked at Gojo’s face. “You are back.”

“Got back last night.” He took out his phone and Shoko saw him check something on the screen and put it down on the table. Was it her imagination or he seemed tired? Tough to say without seeing his eyes, but he did have a duller aura around him right now.

Shoko raised her cup of tea to her lips and eyed Satoru’s phone.

“New phone?” she asked.

Satoru had leaned back on his chair and a adopted a more carefree expression. Even if he was a grown man, Shoko would have said he looked just the same as when they were highschoolers.

“Yeah…” It was impossible to tell, but Ieiri also thought his eyes were looking around the cafeteria, and she had a hunch on what he was searching for, or rather, who. “The other one broke down. It’s the same number, though.”

His phone had broken down three days ago, it slipped and the screen turned pitch black. It had not shut down immediately, though, and it still rang when Ijichi called him, but if he could not see the screen, it was no use keeping it.

Satoru had not really cared at first, only getting a cheap phone to communicate through the end of his mission. Ijichi had gotten a more suitable replacement ready for him when he got back, and it was only after setting it up and retrieving his backup data, that Satoru realized you had actually messaged him days ago.

Unlucky.

He had not replied yet, figuring he would see you at the school anyway and could maybe set things straight between you two. However, he had not encountered you across campus, and when he peeked at your class, your students were being looked after by a first-grade sorcerer he had seen around a few times, filling in the substitute teacher position.

He wanted to ask Shoko. “Say, Sho-”

“[name] took a couple days off,” she interrupted him while placing her cup back on the table and encircling it with both hands.

Can she read minds?

Shoko could not, but knowing Gojo, it was taking him long enough to ask about you.

"Oh."

She looked at him. “They...”

Shoko wanted to tell Satoru you had paid her a visit after one of your missions that week, but she was not sure you would have wanted Gojo to know.

Ieiri had been surprised at first when she saw you that day. A lot of blood always made it difficult to perceive at first glance how big a wound really was. After a closer inspection, she realized the injuries on your torso were not too concerning, not for someone with her abilities at least.

But if they were a regular person and I was a regular doctor, they would have probably been bed-ridden for a while, she thought.

She had had you in walking condition after a couple days, but it still bothered her. Getting injured during missions was the norm for sorcerers, especially younger ones, however, she knew you were experienced in battle. A scratch here and there was expected, but she had seen you returning more beaten up lately.

They are taking on more difficult missions, that was what she wanted to tell Gojo. She was not sure whether you were trying to get promoted or if for some reason they were actively assigning you missions above your rank.

The cup Shoko was holding was warming her hands.

A thought assaulted her mind: There is no predicting the higher-ups.

If you had upset one and now had a target on your back, Satoru could help you out, could he not?

“What is it?” Gojo tilted his head looking straight at Ieiri, or at least she felt this time he was looking at her.

“Nothing. I think they will be back tomorrow.”

Satoru had thought about visiting you, but seeing how that turned out last time, he decided to wait.

Giving you space was the right call in his experience. Usually, no matter what the problem was, you could talk it through when you both had had some time to mull it over.

But, in this case, how much time did you need?

The whole situation was like nothing you and him had faced before. Fighting over snacks or over a joke that went a step too far was one thing. The look you had given him that night and the way you called him selfish, that was completely different, and it had haunted him since he left your apartment.

Satoru grabbed his phone and finally replied to your message. He hit 'send' and offered an attempt of a smile to Shoko.

“If I asked for advice, would you give me some?”

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

Note: I almost forgot my iconic note (even though I'm the only one who thinks it's iconic). And the note is... there is no note, just my love. <3

Thank you for reading!

Next: Part XV

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz @luciledreamz @avidreadee123 @moonmalice @ratscandaler @sadmonke @allie-jay @username23345 @spin-garden @ashehateaccount @kayzens @blehtotheblehtothebleh

[1toreyouapart]

The Lies We Tell

Summary that tells you nothing: Sometimes everything you ever wanted has been right there, within reach, all along.

CW/TW: Angst, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, fingering, PinV, pet names, friends with benefits, more to come as I actually get things written out.

Masterlist

Why Do Men?

Quinn pushed the food around on her plate, barely listening to the man across from her. He was attractive enough, seemed kind. But good God, he was boring. From the moment she walked in he droned on and on about him and what he did for work, how much money he made. His big flashy car he had. Right now she was really hoping that Noah had asked her to stay with him instead. In fact, she had been sure that he would. Instead, he had rushed out of that bathroom and she hadn't seen him since. Not even when she knocked on his door before she left.

Him telling her she had shitty taste in men still stung a bit. Mostly because it was true. And who was it that picked up the pieces after every failed date? Every brief relationship that failed after three months? Noah. Always there to pick up the pieces and put her back together again. She was willing to bet he already had a whole thing planned for when she got home tonight, too.

"You're one of those goth girls, right?"

Quinn snapped out of her head. What the fuck was this guy on about?

"Excuse me?"

"I'm asking because you look like one. Tattoos, dark hair. Dark clothes." He leaned forward. "Bet you're into some kinky shit, too."

Her stomach turned. What the fuck? Did he really just say that? It didn't matter so much that she wasn't goth. Though, she definitely had more gothic tendencies than not. The sexualization of goth girls, however, was too much. It was vile. It was disgusting. God. Noah had been right.

"Mmmm. This date is over." Sighing, frustrated, she got up, pulling out her wallet. "Here's my half."

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that. It's just a question."

"Be like what? Bored out of my mind because you can't shut the fuck up about how great you think you are? Or irritated because you seem to think that goth women exist for your pleasure?" She threw the money down on the table, laughing. "See you never."

Satisfied she walked away, pulling her phone out. Everything in her screamed at her to call Noah, not an Uber. Noah would be there faster. But she didn't want to hear his "I told you so" just yet. That might set her off even more and she was trying not to cause a scene.

The cool night air hit her skin as the app told her a driver was on her way. 15 minutes until her ride arrived. Cursing she pulled up the text thread with Noah, debating texting him that he had been right. Just then, however, her date appeared in front of her, angry.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? You're not even that pretty, anyway."

Quinn's stomach churned, her palms going sweaty as she glanced up and down the sidewalk. There were people. Lots of them. She should be safe, right? Fuck. What had Noah taught her? He had tried so hard to teach her how to defend herself. Now that the time may be here she couldn't remember a thing. Steeling herself for what may happen she lifted her chin, meeting the man's eyes.

"I said the date is over."

"You know, you should be grateful I even gave you the time of day. I make more money in a year than you ever will in your life."

She laughed. Genuinely deeply laughed. This guy wasn't going to attack her. His ego might be bruised, but that's as far as it would go. The type of guy that used his wealth to get sex. If he even actually made that much money.

"Says the grown ass man crying because the girl that 'isn't even that pretty.' Do you even hear yourself right now?"

"Whatever. Good luck finding a man that'll put up with you."

She watched as he walked off, ignoring the tiny crack in her armor that last comment had made. So many failed dates. Nothing lasting more than three months in the last seven years. Maybe he was right and there was something just inherently wrong with her. Her track record definitely spoke to that.

Her phone lit up, letting her know her ride had arrived just as a vehicle with an Uber sign in the window showed up. Thank fucking God. All she wanted right now was her pajamas, a movie, and her best friend.

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

[the-great-papyru]

I request a treat... flowey and Papyrus hanging out? I just love their friendship

whoops this is late

anyway, teeny tiny ficlet for you! (no real plot.)

“FLOWERY!! SHOULD THE NOODLE WATER BE ON THE FLOOR?”

“WHAT? No, why is it on the floor?!”

Flowey cast a quick glance over to the pot that was SUPPOSED to be cooking noodles. The lid was SUPPOSED to be on. The lid was NOT doing its job. It seemed more focused on the monumental task of staying on the rapidly overflowing pot than it did actually keeping the BOILING LIQUID from escaping.

“Turn down the heat, TURN DOWN THE HEAT!” Flowey shrieked.

“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT! SHEESH!” Papyrus strode over to the stove, absurdly, insanely calm, and turned the fire off at much too slow a speed.

As the overflowing bubbles settled down, Flowey let out a groan. He put a vine—it was a complete travesty that it was the closest thing he had to a hand—to his head. 

“Well, THAT was a complete disaster.”

“DON’T TALK LIKE THAT, FLOWWEY! I’M SURE THE NOODLES WILL TASTE AS GOOD AS THEY ALWAYS DO!!”

“And that’s a good thing,” Flowey deadpanned.

“OF COURSE!!!”

Flowey groaned again. “Why weren’t you watching the STUPID pot anyway? We were so close to GETTING it this time!”

Papyrus crossed his arms. “HAVEN’T YOU HEARD THAT A WATCHED POT NEVER BOILS? IT’S CONCERNING YOU DON’T KNOW THAT, WHAT ARE THEY TEACHING YOU KIDS IN SCHOOL THESE DAYS?”

“I don’t KNOW, Papyrus. I-I’m not a kid.”

Papyrus touched a gloved hand to his chin. “REALLY? HMM. COULD HAVE FOOLED ME. CLEARLY YOU ARE A MASTER AT PRETENDING-TO-BE-A-KID-WHEN-YOU-MOST-DEFINITELY-ARE-NOT-ONE-NOR-ARE-YOU-TRYING-TO-CONVINCE-OTHERS-YOU-ARE. WE SHOULD MAKE YOU AN AWARD!!”

Flowey tried to put on a hard stare. “We should definitely not do that.”

“TOO LATE!! IT’S ON MY BUCKET LIST!! OR WILL BE, AS SOON AS I GET A BUCKET. IT’S SURPRISINGLY HARD TO FIND A WHOLE ONE DOWN HERE.”

Flowey smirked. “You don’t even have half a bucket list yet? What, do you fall asleep in the middle of writing?”

“OF COURSE NOT!!! EVIL NEVER SLEEPS AND NEITHER DO BUCKET LIST WRITERS!!”

“What does that even mean?”

“IT’S A MOTIVATIONAL QUOTE!!”

“Really? A quote from who, again?”

“FROM ME, OF COURSE!! THE GREATEST MOTIVATIONAL QUOTE OF ALL IS ALWAYS ONE FROM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!! NYEH HEH HEH!!!”

“Does that include the stupid one about the pot not boiling?”

“YES!! THOUGH I WAS NOT THE FIRST TO SAY IT, I MADE IT GREATER BECAUSE IT WAS SAID BY ME!”

Flowey couldn’t stop the grin fighting its way onto his face. Papyrus’ positivity was like a measles outbreak. Annoyingly quick to spread and hard to get rid of. He hated it.

“It doesn’t even make SENSE! How would that work?”

“WELL, YOU SEE. YOU LOOK AT A POT. AND IT DOESN’T BOIL. BUT IF YOU DON’T WATCH IT—”

“Okay, I get THAT! But you know perfectly well that WATCHING something isn’t going to make it not boil! That’s plain stupid. You’re not THAT stupid.”

“I WOULDN’T BE SO SURE!! HAVEN’T YOU READ ABOUT THE DOUBLE SLIT EXPERIMENT?”

“Papyrus, that’s quantum physics! A pot is not a PARTICLE!”

“HMM… MAYBE YOU’RE RIGHT. BUT TELL ME! HAVE YOU EVER WATCHED A POT BOIL?”

Flowey didn’t know how to respond to this. Obviously he HADN’T, he didn’t have the patience for that. But that didn’t mean anything! Flowey was not superstitious. He believed in facts, like one and one being two, and grass being green, and the ability of monsters being able to summon magical bullets to fight each other as a greeting. Facts!

So he lied.

“Obviously I have.”

“REALLY? WOWIE, LOOKS LIKE I MISJUDGED… YOU WOULDN’T MIND DEMONSTRATING, THEN?”

“What?”

“WELL, IF YOU’VE DONE IT BEFORE IT SHOULD BE A PIECE OF CAKE! METAPHORICALLY. PLEASE DO NOT TURN THE POT INTO A PIECE OF CAKE, I HATE IT WHEN THAT HAPPENS! SUCH A HASSLE TO CLEAN UP.”

Sure. Fine. Wasn’t hard. He’d just watch the pot until it started boiling. Easy.

Papyrus turned up the heat.

Flowey waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

“Is it supposed to be taking this long?” Flowey asked impatiently, not taking his eyes off the pot.

“IT’S BEEN 37 SECONDS, FLOWYE.”

“So it should be boiled by now!”

“DEFINITELY NOT. GIVE IT A FEW MORE MINUTES AT LEAST.”

Flowey groaned for the third time in the last 5 minutes. But he could do this. He could endure boredom! Sure, his inability to cope with boredom was what had driven him to literal murder in the first place, but he elected to ignore that fact. Completely. Utterly. Absolutely. He distracted himself by sneaking a glance at Papyrus.

The very millisecond he did so, the water in the pot began to boil. 

“You’ve got to be KIDDING!”

“I TOLD YOU, DIDN’T I?” Papyrus’ face was straight. But Flowey caught the twitch of a smirk in the very corner of his mouth.

“You rigged it! There’s no way!”

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD NEVER STOOP SO LOW AS TO RIG SOMETHING JUST TO PROVE A POINT! I’M WOUNDED YOU THINK SO LITTLE OF ME!” Papyrus clutched a hand dramatically to his chest to really nail in the point.

Flowey searched Papyrus’ face for telltale signs of a lie and found none. Not that he ever did. Whether this was because Papyrus never lied or because he was just that good of a liar was yet to be decided.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter!”

Flowey concentrated, and tugged the string letting time go forward so it snapped backwards and he was back in the snowy cold.

He better get the recipe right this time.

[dw19791967]

That Type of Girl Part 1

Pairing: Dean x reader (Eventual), Sam x reader (Platonic)

Warnings: language, unrequited love, slight angst, some fluff

This is the first fic I have ever written, all mistakes are my own. Please be gentle on me!

_____________________

I had never been the type of girl that men would look at twice. I have always been on the heavy side of the scale. I have a big gut, small ass, and ok sized boobs. After struggling with my confidence for a better part of my life, when I hit my 20’s I stopped caring about what others thought of me. But I would still wear clothes a size or two too big. But I felt confident (for the most part). I didn’t give a rats ass what most people thought of me, which definitely helped when it came to hunting. 

My life changed forever when I met the Winchesters. Sam was like the big brother I never had. Dean…well, that was a different story. Everything in me knew the moment I met him, that he was something special. The way he could make me laugh, make me smile, make me feel appreciated. No one had ever made me feel the things he did. But I knew he would never see me as more than a friend, and after some time I was ok with that. I knew a man like him would never even consider being with a girl like me. 

“What ya thinking about Y/N?” said Sam. We were currently sitting in a roadside bar after we finished our most recent hunt. Of course Dean was busy flirting with some gorgeous blonde, leaving Sam and I to our own devices.

“Just thinking about what life would be like if we weren’t hunters.” I lied of course. I was thinking about why couldn’t I be the type of girl Dean would turn to for more than friendship. Something I thought about pretty frequently.

“Do you really want that type of life ?” Sam stated with a curious look on his face. 

“Hell no, I’m not made for normal. Just always like to think about where I would be ya know? Would I be married, have 2.5 kids, and a full time job or would I be a crazy cat lady.” I giggled.

“Well considering you're allergic to cats you definitely would not be a crazy cat lady.” Sam was laughing.

“You’re right Sammy, guess there goes that day dream.” I said. I couldn’t stop watching Dean. I really needed to find something else to occupy my time.

“You know I see how you look at him.” Sam said.

“I don’t know what you mean Sammy.” I replied.

“Y/N you should tell him how you feel, you never know he may feel the same way.” Sam looked at me with an optimistic grin.

“Yeah right Sam, I’m going to the restroom then I’m heading out. You boys can stay and have some much deserved fun.” I got up to head towards the restroom, if only Sam knew how deep I was in.

______

The following day after returning to the bunker the night before, I got up around 6:00 to make the boys breakfast. It was something I did every now and then, even though I made a pretty shitty cook. I rolled out of bed and put some shorts on. I had an old AC/DC shirt on (I didn’t bother wearing a bra since the shirt was baggy), threw my hair up in a messy bun and was ready to get to work. I made my way to the kitchen as quietly as I could. Evidently I tend to stomp when I walk in the bunker halls (according to Sam), so it is something I am trying to work on. I got the eggs and bacon out. Scrambled would have to be it for today because I don’t have the patience to try anything else. Sam made his way into the kitchen as I was finishing up with the bacon.

“Well good morning sunshine!” Sam sang.

“Damn Sammy can you keep it down somewhat, you know how I feel about being happy first thing in the morning.” I covered my ears.

“Oh yes so sorry grumpy pants” Sam laughed.

“I’m pretty sure you are like the only person I have ever seen to be so excited at 6:30 in the morning.” I finished putting some eggs on a plate for him.

“Well why are you up so early anyway? You made us breakfast?” Sam asked.

“Well yes you big giant, I did. I felt like doing something nice even if I am a grumpy pants.” I sat his plate down in front of him.

“Well I appreciate it and I’m sure Dean will too. Where is Dean?” Sam took a bite of his eggs.

“Pretty sure he is still sleeping, I’ll wake him up on my way to shower. How does it taste?” I asked.

“It is actually pretty good, way to go Y/N you have finally learned how to make eggs!” Sam was laughing. I enjoyed the teasing banter we had with one another, it made me happy that we didn’t always have to take things so seriously.

“Haha very funny, looks like now I will have to cook more often.” I stated as I walked out of the kitchen.

Heading down the hall I stopped at Dean’s room. I opened his door slightly, he was sprawled out over his bed snoring loudly. Blondie must have tired him out last night. I usually don’t like waking him up because he has such a hard time sleeping. Especially lately but I knew he would be pissed if he missed out on bacon. I made my way over to him.

“Dean” I whispered.

“Dean I made breakfast” I patted his shoulder.

He rolled over and opened his eyes. Looking at me in a way that almost made me blush.

“Hey sweetheart, what time is it?” he asked.

“7:00” I stated.

“Damn I actually slept in some, that was amazing.”

I’m sure it was, I stated to myself. Damn my jealousy.

“Well I just wanted to let you know there is eggs and bacon, Sam said that I actually learned how to make eggs so guess that means they are good this time. I laughed. “ I’m gonna take a quick shower then I will meet you back out there” I said.

“You had me at bacon” he got up and stretched. 

“Well good morning sleeping beauty” stated Sam.

“God it smells amazing in here” Dean said with a grin.

Dean loaded up a plate with tons of bacon and a few scoops of eggs.

“Damn this is awesome” Dean moaned.

“Would you like me to give you some alone time with that?” Sam laughed.

“Sammy, she seriously knows how to make my damn morning. This bacon might be the best I have ever eaten.”

“Well she has been up since 6 working on it so I’m glad you are enjoying it.” Sam was reading something on his laptop now.

“What would we do without her?” Dean wondered aloud.

“What would we do without who?” I stated as I made my way back into the kitchen. I had taken a quick shower and changed into jeans and a flannel. Baggy of course. I never wore tight fitting shirts. My hair was still a little wet but I wanted to make sure the boys were taken care of before I moved on with my routine.

“You sweetheart, you are seriously too good to us.” Dean stated, staring at me. 

I blushed, “Well I would do anything to make your guys day a little better.” Sam looked at me with a knowing look, please dear lord do not let him say anything.

Sam continued reading something on his laptop without saying a word. 

“Well I’m gonna head to the library to check out this book I need, do you guys need anything?” asked Sam.

“I’m good, thank you though Sammy.” I stated.

“Unless you are stopping at the store, in that case we need pie.” Dean said while stuffing his face with more bacon.

“Of course Dean, I will make sure to get your precious pie.” Sam said while laughing.

With Sam gone, I struggled to find something to say to Dean but the silence was killing me. 

“What time did you guys end up coming home last night?” I asked. I really didn’t want to know but yet I needed to.

“Uh not too long after you, it was kinda a bust.” stated Dean.

“What happened to Blondie?” I asked without even thinking.

Dean looked up at me, “She was talking my ear off about her ex. I told her if she couldn’t stop thinking about him then she probably needed to talk it out with him.”

Good I thought to myself, I knew he deserved a good time but I am glad he struck out. I really need to stop thinking like this.

“Well I am sure you will have better luck next time” I said with a smile. It took everything in me to muster that up.

“Nah next time we need to work on finding someone for you.” Dean stated.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well I know it's been awhile since you have found a guy for you, so I figured I could help you look.” Dean said with a shrug.

Did he seriously think I wanted to find someone? I really was not the love them and leave them type. I tended to get too attached. So I just took care of things on my own. Plus it was hard to find someone to spend the night with when you are desperately in love with someone else.

“I’m really not interested Dean. I would rather just drink and make a fool of myself.” I laughed.

“Come on Y/N, I’m sure you could use a night of romance or whatever you want to call it” Dean looked at me.

Anytime I had even considered taking a guy home they would make comments about my body. Which usually ended with my fist bleeding and the guy laying on the bar floor.

“Dean, do you seriously not remember the last time I looked for a guy, he ended up calling me a fat bitch and I knocked his lights out.” I picked at my nails. I couldn’t look at his face right now.

“Yes I remember, that was just one shitty guy. I have faith we can find a good one.” Dean got up to clear his plate.

The one guy I want doesn’t want me so I really don’t want to try to find another one. I will just end up with my feelings hurt and my confidence wounded. It’s not worth it to me.

“I appreciate the offer truly, but I don’t want a night of romance. I just want to spend a night with my two best friends. That’s it. Can we please drop it?” I got up to start working on the dishes.

“If that is what you want Y/N.” Dean looked at me softly. “I will get them sweetheart, the least I can do since you cooked.” Dean started working on the dishes.

"Thanks" I said. "I'm gonna go finish fixing my hair." I made my way out of the kitchen as fast as I could. I wish he could understand how I felt, but this is one area in which Dean and I are very different.

[starcrossedxwriter]

Unbreakable Part 1 (Erik Killmonger x OC)

A/N: here is the summary for our new story! Enjoyyyyyy!

Warnings: This is an AU with bits of the movie and the comics mixed together

“Fuck! J-Just like that.” Naja screwed her face up in one that gave the impression of a woman lost in the throes of pleasure, internally rolling her eyes at the haphazard thrusts of the man on top of her. 

In fact, she was merely counting down the minutes until he came and would leave. She supposed the time was good to clear her mind and reminisce.

There was that guy from London, her brain immediately recalled.

He was her favorite one-night stand to think about when she needed an extra boost to get off. Now, that man was gorgeous and he fucked like a God. She actually felt a tinge of guilt when, after he made her cum for hours, she returned the favor by torturing him for hours… and not in a pleasurable way. To his credit, he lasted a long time, which earned her respect. 

I hope he is doing ok, she thought to herself. Well, she knew he wasn’t. But had he just given up his supplier of stolen vibranium faster, he’d likely be doing better. 

“You like that??” He demanded as he fucked into her like a jack rabbit. No finesse, no skill, no care. He did not even ensure her needs were met. 

That’s ok, she decided. If his fucking was any indication of his skills in other activities, he was actually doing her and her pussy a favor. 

“Yes, I love it!” She called out, cringing at her own voice. She faked her orgasm to finish the ordeal faster. 

Anytime now, Bast, she called out to the god above. This was getting irksome. 

It seemed Bast heard her calls and blessed her, the man finally cumming and filling her. She silently thanked Wakanda for the painless, side effect free birth control that would last her five years. 

He rolled off of her, his chest heaving slightly while Naja was wholly unruffled aside from a thin layer of sweat. 

“That was… something,” she offered with a fake smile, a content and pompous smile he did not deserve forming on his lips. 

The male ego, she shook her head as she slid out of bed and threw a robe on. After returning from the bathroom, she was surprised to find him still lounging in her bed. Most of her night time companions knew the rules… no one stayed the night. But this one, Kofi…

No, this is Kwame, she thought to herself. 

No… Kwame actually knows how to fuck you. Or at least, attempts to make you cum even if he doesn’t succeed. Kwame gets an A for effort. Is there a grade lower than F we can give this one? Maybe it’s Amari? She tilted her head as she studied him. Hell, she did not know who he was but she did know one thing: he clearly did not know when to get the fuck out. 

“Ok well, this was fun but I should be heading to bed,” her tone was polite but left little room for negotiation. She gathered his clothes with lightning speed and tossed them onto his lap.

He pushed himself up onto her forearms. “Wait, you serious?” 

She stared at him, a dead panned expression painted on her face. “Yea. I sleep alone. I had fun though,” she lied with ease and a smile. 

“Oh… ok.” He started gathering his clothes, Naja wholly unmoved by the hurt glimmering in his eyes. “When will I see you again?” 

“I’m at the bar… working every night,” she handed him his shoes to speed the process along. The sooner he was gone, the sooner she could pull out her vibrator and actually service the ache between her legs. 

“So we can do this again sometime?” He asked as she shooed him toward the door. 

“Definitely, definitely. I’ll call you. Get home safe.” She pushed him out of her front door, locking and dead bolting it behind her. 

She rolled her eyes before returning up the stairs to her bedroom. She did not know why she even bothered. Every time she brought a man home after her shift, she knew they would likely not be able to please her. But she allowed them into her bed anyway. Fucking, even if it was lackluster, filled some void.

She settled into bed, about to pull out her trusted and faithful bullet when her phone rang. She groaned, glancing at her phone. 

Dayo. Her boss. 

“It is offensive to call someone this late, Dayo.” She chastised as she settled into bed. 

“I gave you an hour. I assume your suitor has returned home?” 

“He just left. What’s wrong?” 

He sighed. “Another child went missing in the village tonight.”  

Her heart sank. “That’s the 15th child in the last three months. Soldiers?” 

At his silence, she let out a frustrated groan. “The family?” 

“Devastated but not talking. They won’t admit it was the King’s men, which means they were threatened. The father tried to fight back and was killed. The mother had to be taken to the hospital, she was distraught and collapsed.” 

“FUCK!” She paced up and down her bedroom, the wood panels of her floor creaking softly. 

“I just wish we knew why he was targeting this village specifically. I reached out to the network across the rest of the city and the country and nothing like this is happening elsewhere.” 

She shrugged. “This is the poorest village in the Capitol. It’s like child soldiers across the continent and trafficking across the world. You steal people from those who do not have the resources and means to fight for their return. The King maintains his throne and his games with intimidation and violence. We will find them, Dayo, and we will liberate our people. I promise. I will talk to you tomorrow. Let me know if the family needs anything, I can try to go to the markets tomorrow night during my shift.” 

“Everyone needs everything, Malika. Thank you for doing what you can. For the liberation of Niganda.” 

“For the liberation of Niganda. Good night, Dayo.” 

She sighed, the ache between her legs vanishing completely. She grabbed her kimoyo beads and went over to the plain, nondescript wall across from her bed. She pressed the beads to a circular groove in the wood, both lighting up a mysterious shade of light blue. She glanced over her shoulder, as if someone were watching her, as the wall parted to reveal a walk-in closet.

However, this closet was filled with more than just clothes. It was a small arsenal. Spears, blades of all shapes and varieties, guns of equal diversity, even a bow and arrow, which she never got to use but she liked the look of it. And clothes. All black, fashioned to hide a many assortment of weapons in the oddest places, laced with vibranium to protect her body. She missed donning those clothes. And while those days might be over, the cache of weapons she maintained proved that some habits never died. 

She pulled a duffle bag out of the back of the closet, the bag filled with passports, Nigandan currency, and Wakandan dollars. She pulled out a notebook she kept stashed under everything else. She flipped through it, each page filled with notes from her years in Niganda. The last 20 pages or so were each numbered with the name and # of a child. Her notes, witness accounts, leads. All of it jotted down on those pages, a complex map that helped her get no where closer to find in those children.

She did not know #15’s name yet but when she learned it, their name would join their number on the page. She wrote down the bit of information Dayo shared, figuring she could fill it out more tomorrow after she spoke with him in person. 

All these children, all these souls lost. And no one seemed concerned or like they cared, no one willing to risk their lives to find them and save them. No one except those in the Nigandan Liberation Front. Dayo was their leader and he was committed as anyone to overthrow the tyrant that ruled over this country. 

Her writing was interrupted by a ping from her kimoyo beads. 

“Damn, can no one leave me the fuck alone?” She wondered aloud. However, she knew if someone was calling this line, it was important. No one from Wakanda ever bothered her unless there was news to share. 

She knew it would be an encrypted and recorded message, it was too risky to ever call her and expect her to answer. She checked her beads once a week at different times and intervals, usually there was nothing there. 

Shuri’s upper half materialized from the beads. Her voice was professional and calm, very unlike her. 

“Malika, please return home. The Royal Talon will be waiting for you on the other side of the Nigandan-Cannan border at the following coordinates at 2 a.m. in seven days. Your presence has been requested in Wakanda for two months by order of the King. Please confirm that you received this message.” 

“Anddddd this is why I never check this fuckin’ thing,” she mumbled, frustration coursing through her. 

Two months??? The power of the throne had clearly gone to T’Challa’s head. And only giving her one week to prepare to leave? And how many children, she glanced at the photos in her book of each one, would go missing in that time? How many families would be torn apart while she stayed in the safe bosom of Wakanda?

She hated herself for knowing she had to go, hated him for forcing her hand. He knew how she felt about that place, knew why she had chosen the path and life she had chosen. Why she had only stepped foot in her borders twice in the last seven years. But an order from the King was an order from the King, she took liberties but even she could not refuse him. 

As she laid in bed, frustrated, her mind already churned on what lie she could tell everyone to explain a two-month absence. She had already laid the groundwork for relatives in South Africa. Perhaps she could use that. 

“Ugh!” She now only had a week to get everything in order. “Every King on this bast-forsaken continent is a tyrant,” she mumbled to herself before flopping to her side to try to sleep. 

***

When Naja stepped off the Talon, she was thankful to only find General Okoye waiting for her, her stoic face a sight for sore eyes. She was thankful the rest of the family remembered she hated the excessive fanfare of returning home and immediately being pestered by a million people. It had been a long time since she saw many of them so she figured a certain King would ignore that directive. But she was thankful to have a moment to ease into seeing everyone. It was already an adjustment, as it always was to be back on Wakandan soil in the first place. It still felt new, every time, even though this was technically her home. It did not feel like home to her, not anymore. 

“General,” her lips tugged into the smallest of smiles as she saluted her old friend. It was the first genuine smile she could remember giving someone in months. There was little happening in Niganda worth smiling about anyway and when she did, it was usually fake. 

“Naja.” Once Okoye returned her salute, she reached out and squeezed Naja’s hand, Naja returning it gently, before their faces returned to their usual stoic and neutral expressions. “I trust your journey was well.” 

“It was. Though it was difficult to spin my absence on such short notice. Do you know why the King saw it to order me home?” 

“No.” 

Her answer was simple, and Naja knew, untrue. Okoye was one of two people in this palace privy to all of the King’s decisions and thoughts. But she also knew Okoye would not give her a single inch. It was worth a shot though, she reasoned. But it also let her know the reason was not straightforward, which meant her nap in her quarters would have to wait. 

“Of course. May you take me to his office if he is not too busy? I know the way to my room from there.”  

Okoye did not nod or answer her. She merely changed the direction of their walk through the palace toward T’Challa’s office. Naja tried not to get too wrapped up in the bustling movement and sounds of the palace. The last time she was here, it felt more like a ghost town than anything else, lifeless and dreary. Wakanda had weathered the Blip better than most countries but it still struggled and during those five years, the palace wore the scars of its lost King and Princess and half its population. But with their return, life and joy returned to the palace and all of Wakanda. She was happy for it. They all deserved it, to be whole again. 

She did not let the facade she had on fall until Okoye opened the door to T’Challa’s office, her brother in law sitting behind his desk reading. He glanced up, a wide smile gracing his tired but ever youthful features, as his eyes landed on Naja. He immediately stood up, joy rippling off of him like waves. One thing she always appreciated about T’Challa was, even when he and Nakia were not together, he treated her like a younger sister. A colder one than the one he actually had but a sister nonetheless. 

“Thank you, General. Naja, welcome home.” 

“My king,” she saluted him. She waited for the firm click of the door closing behind Okoye before she offered him a smirk. “My king summons, I answer.”

“No need for the formalities, sister. And I know you despise hugs. But it has been 7 years, humor me?” He rounded the desk to stand before her. 

“I was told the Blip only felt like minutes to those of you who were gone. So technically, for you, it has only been two years. But as my king, I suppose you make the rules. You get seven seconds.” At his raised eyebrow, she shrugged. “One for each year.” 

She allowed herself to be gathered up in his arms, the man squeezing tight. She forced herself not to fall into it, though she wanted to. The warm embrace of family, she had missed it. But instead, she merely cleared her throat, letting him know the timer on their emotional reunion had indeed run out. 

To his credit, he immediately released her, his hands holding onto her forearms as he took a step back to examine her. She chuckled and rolled her eyes as he attempted to inspect her form for any injuries or drastic changes that would worry his Queen. Seven years might have passed since she last laid eyes on T’Challa at his coronation but time had done little to change either of them.  

“You look well. Thin,” he remarked. “But well. How are you?” 

“Glory to Bast, I am in good health,” she offered lazily as she sat in the seat opposite of his desk. She tried not to look at the pictures that littered the office, keeping her eyes trained on him, knowing she would find more than one that featured him. She did not need or want to see him ever again.  “Food in the Capitol has been sparse since the return of everyone from the Blip.”

“Do you need more money? I know the alias and job you chose does not offer much.” 

She shook her head. In addition to the money she made at the bar she worked at, all War Dogs received a salary discreetly added into their accounts disguised as local side jobs and businesses. She had more than enough money. 

“No, no, no. Thanks to you, I am the world’s richest bartender. Just the monarchy hoarding resources, there is more than enough to go around for the wealthy. And the black markets continue to thrive there under the King’s nose but what I usually get from there, I give to those who need it more,” she shrugged. “I’m good. I’ve survived on less.”  

“Anything of note on those black markets?” 

She tilted her head before shaking it, T’Challa’s shoulders sagging a bit. “Aside from delicious meats and vegetables the royals have now deemed delicacies? No.” 

“Well, make sure to eat two plates at dinner. Or else your sister will not rest tonight.” 

She nodded. “Two plates? That feels gluttonous. Though I suppose I need to reacclimate to this… abundance,” her eyes flickered to the obvious signs of wealth and prestige littering his office. A pang of guilt hit her for even being able to indulge in it. “So I’m sure Nakia will make it her mission to fatten me up before I return home. So are you going to tell me why you’ve grounded me for two months? I hope it’s a good reason. Do you know how hard it will be to explain a two-month disappearance?” 

T’Challa’s deep chuckle filled the office as he sat back in his chair. “Only you would consider a vacation and a bit of time off a punishment.” 

She scoffed. “It is hardly a vacation when it comes as a direct order from my King himself, one he knows very well I would never refuse.”

“You could refuse.” His eyes twinkled with humor as he handed her a glass of Wakandan rum, the one thing he knew she missed from home.

“And face the wrath of the Black Panther?” She shook her head, throwing the entire glass back in one gulp before sighing contently. She slid the glass across the desk, gesturing toward the decanter, T’Challa refilling it for her. “The people outside these walls may call me ongenaloyiko* (the fearless one) but I am still smart enough to fear the greatest warrior in all Wakanda. But as your elder,” she started to say with a wink that she knew would agitate him. 

“You may have surpassed me in years thanks to the Blip, dear Naja, but you are still my younger sister always,” he reminded her. 

“Then tell me why you brought me back. Niganda is in a precarious place right now… things are… brewing. This is a long time to be gone.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “The other War Dogs in the region report no issues. Remember, Naja…” 

She sighed. “I know, I know. No interfering and we only care about things that threaten the interests of Wakanda. I’m being a good leashed watch dog now, I promise.” She knew she was not off to a good start, lying to him so soon. But she hated the new role expected of them. To witness the suffering of the world but do nothing to help. The other War Dogs in Niganda may be fine with such an existence but one thing she had in common with her sister, Naja would always do whatever she could, as long as life pumped in her veins.

“Good.” She was surprised he believed her. “I brought you back for many reasons. The first and most important being that your sister is pregnant,” Naja’s eyes widened. “And due any day now and she has spoken of what a great support you were during the birth of Prince T’Challa while I was…” 

“Fake dead,” she supplied. She knew the Blip was not a laughing matter. It was traumatic for those gone and those who were forced to stay and carry on. But they had all survived, she saw little point in dwelling on it. 

“Yes. And I knew she would be happy to have you here for the birth and a bit of time afterward as well. Second, you have a nephew that is growing day after day and barely knows you. I did not know my uncle before he died. You can understand that I would prefer for history not to repeat itself.” 

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on stealing vibranium and selling it to the highest bidder while I’m here,” she mumbled as her thumb traced patterns in the condensation of her glass, trying to stay aloof at the mention of his father. 

“I’m serious, Naja. The War Dog program is important but N’Jobu taught me that it is not more important than family and connection. And third, I am hoping that some time back here will give you some perspective and perhaps… change your position on certain matters.” 

She scoffed, standing up to pace his office. She was dressed simply, far too simply to address the King some would argue. But there were perks to her position and her reputation, no one would correct her. Her standard soft black pants and tank top provided comfort and agility and ensured she never stood out. Tucked into her waist band was a gun, she had forgotten to remove it on the plane. Though she felt safer with it, even here, on her person. She had left her other weapons at home, her calf felt uncomfortably bare without her blade attached to it.

“And there it is. So just so I understand the rules of engagement. Are you speaking to me now as my King or as my brother?” 

“I speak to you as your brother, Naja, always.” 

“Except when you ordered me home,” she muttered as she leaned against the window sill, her eyes starting into the heart of the capital city. A small part of her ached. She’d never admit it aloud but she did miss it sometimes. She had tried for so long to find something like it but nothing compared to Wakanda. She ignored that, pushing it into the depths where she stored every other feeling she did not want to deal with. 

“You may reject the displays of our love and affection but it will stop none of us from giving it or caring for you.” 

“I am happy with how things are now, T’Challa. I have no interest in changing my position on certain matters.” 

“We are entering peace talks with Niganda, and while you do not trust them -” 

“I do not trust them because they are untrustworthy,” she cut him off sharply. “I’m the best War Dog you have there. You’d do well to heed my warnings where the Nigandans are concerned.” 

“If these negotiations go well, there is an opportunity for you to consider a position that is here in Wakanda. You are the best War Dog I have in any country on this planet, Naja. But it’s been 15 years. We have other War Dogs stationed in Niganda now, thanks to you, who can ensure the peace treaty is adhered to. You can come home.” 

“Those other War Dogs don’t know what they are doing. And… This is not my home, T’Challa,” she muttered. 

“You can spend as much time as you want away from our borders and pretend to be Malika, a lowly Nigandan bartender all you want. But you will always be Wakandan, Wakanda will always be home.” 

“And the best way for me to honor Wakanda is by doing what I have always done: serve her. Protect her interests. In Niganda.” 

She and T’Challa stared at each other for a few moments. While most would have withered under the intense gaze of their king, Naja did no such thing. It was T’Challa who finally broke their standoff, bowing his head as if to signal his surrender. 

“For your sister’s sake, I ask that you merely consider it. She misses you terribly. And not just your physical absence. She misses who you were.” 

She rolled her eyes and chuckled as she walked back over to his desk. Her eyes fell on a picture of T’Challa, Nakia, and their son. She picked up the frame, her fingers grazing along the patterns surrounding their smiling faces.  

“Who I was is of little consequence now, T’Challa. This is who I am. It’s been 15 years and my sister would do well to accept this version of me. Wakanda and I are better for it anyway. Does she know I’m here?” 

“No, it is a surprise for dinner tonight.” 

She sucked her teeth before nodding. “Fine. I will serve out my two month sentence - without complaint - and I will not tell her of your clever but well-intentioned manipulation to force me here. But I say this with all the love and reverence for you as my brother and my King, when these two months are up, I will return to Niganda with or without your approval. Are we clear?” 

Few could talk to T’Challa as she did or had the privilege to make demands. But when Naja spoke, T’Challa listened. “Crystal clear. It is good to have you home, sister. We missed your bubbly personality and disposition around here.” 

“It is good to see you too, T’Challa. Congrats on the new baby. Next time you want to send me encrypted messages, send me good news like that. I’m going to lay down until dinner.” 

“Naja!” 

She stopped and turned around to face him once more. 

“I recognize, accept, and love who you are now. But I would push back on one point.” At her raised eyebrow, he continued, “Wakanda is served well by every version of you because you love her and she loves you back. This version of you is extraordinary. But better implies there was something wrong with the equally extraordinary version of you from before. And there wasn’t.” 

Something pricked the back of her eyes as she turned away from him, a sting she despised about as much as physical affection. 

“This is why I hate coming back,” she huffed. “Tell anyone my eyes so much as misted and I’ll kill you in your sleep.” 

He chuckled. “Bast’s fiercest warrior and daughter never cries. Even if my eyes witnessed such a feat, I would not know the words to share it with a soul.” 

She smiled before exiting his office, immediately swallowing the emotion she felt. She hated how out of sorts she felt being back here. Seeing T’Challa in the flesh again after seven long years, the emotions of being back here in this home and in this city, finding out her sister was pregnant, the emotional exhaustion of switching from her alias back to Naja… this was why she preferred to be alone when she first got home. Had not been on Wakandan soil for an hour and she had already been through a rollercoaster of emotions. 

Naja moved through the halls silently and swiftly, moving like a panther herself to ensure she did not run into her sister. Though she was not happy about being forced to return, she was excited to see her sister and her nephew. Though Nakia still treated her like a fragile dove, her sister loved her beyond comparison and reason. 

When she finally found her way to her room, she stripped down and curled into bed immediately. A content sigh slipped from her lips as she settled into the comfort of the soft mattress and linens. The room was obscene, triple the size of her home in Niganda. It was home to her and served her needs but it left much to be desired compared to what she left behind. 

Don’t get used to it, she thought to herself as she already started to drift off to sleep. Two months and then we’re out of here.

***

Naja yawned deeply as she rushed to dinner, realizing she was several minutes late. She hated that T’Challa was right, per usual. 

A break from life as a spy was not so bad. She did not know how to relax and rest but her body seemed determined to ensure she did it. She slept like a rock, a call from T’Challa 10 minutes past dinnertime was the only thing to jolt her from her sleep. 

She paused outside the family dining room, her heart warming as she heard her nephew spitting rapid fire questions at his parents about training. Her sister’s voice filled the room. 

“Will you teach your sister how to train when she’s old enough?” She heard Nakia ask. 

TJ’s small voice responded. “Would that be safe for her? I don’t want her to get hurt like I do.” 

“As safe as it is for any Wakandan,” Naja offered with a teasing smile as she rounded the corner. 

“Auntie Naja!!” TJ sprung from his seat with the strength of a cannon and ran into her outstretched arms. “I missed you!” 

“My prince!! You are getting taller and taller every day!” She tickled his sides, his giggles filling the dining room and everyone’s hearts with warmth. “And when you’re training that little one in a few years, you should remember what my baba always told us. Our battle scars are our strength, our power, and…” 

“A reminder from Bast that we lived another day to serve Wakanda,” TJ finished, reciting the words Nakia and Naja’s father always said. 

She cradled him against her chest for a moment once more before letting him go, his small hand gripping around hers to drag her farther into the room. 

“Now why doesn’t he have a time limit on your affection?” T’Challa’s voice was filled with fake indignation. 

She merely shrugged as TJ demanded she take the open seat next to him. 

“I simply like him better than you.” 

However, before she sat, she rounded the table to her sister. 

“Sister. No, don’t get up,” she cautioned as Nakia started to move. The hug she bestowed was longer than most would receive but she could tell by the unshed tears in Nakia’s eyes that she needed it. She cradled one hand to Nakia’s cheek before the other rested on her belly. “How are you? And how is my future niece, Wakanda’s next great warrior?” 

“We are both well, even better now that you are here. You’re so thin.” She tsked slightly, T’Challa and Naja sharing a knowing glance and chuckle. “You need to catch me up on everything. But first sit. Eat.” 

As she returned to her seat, she watched as a silent conversation passed between her King and Queen. Though Nakia’s face appeared happy, there was something brewing beneath the surface. She could sense the anger passing through her to T’Challa, a guilty look plastered on his face. She watched as he busied himself with his own plate to avoid her glare. 

She did not know what to make of it as she piled food on her plate, she could not deny she was starving. However, she realized the reason for that silent conversation quickly as two voices grew louder and louder as they moved toward the dining room.

“If you had just listened to me, we wouldn’t have been late! Your elementary knowledge of nanotech is useless. I could’ve finished it in an hour if you hadn’t been there mansplaining,” Shuri ranted as she rounded the corner into the kitchen. She was so frustrated she did not even notice Naja at the table or acknowledge her. 

“Aye! I went to MIT, short bit,” a sharp American voice filled the space, Naja’s blood turning to ice water, her head whipping toward the door so fiercely she could have broken her own neck. She felt as if her heart completely stopped as she watched Prince N’Jadaka enter the dining room. “That shit’s hardly element-” his words immediately fell off as his eyes fell on Naja, his entire body paralyzed in mid step. 

The pair merely stared at each other, the dining room rapidly filling with tension so severe even the staff ceased moving. And only four people, save the Prince and Naja, knew the source of that tension. Her body did not move an inch, her fork still hovering in the space above her plate as indescribable rage took control of every cell in her body. She could feel it deep in her bones, 15 years worth of pain she had buried warped into a monster. Her nephew’s presence mere inches from her were the only calming presence she could feel, the only thing keeping everything from boiling over. 

“Well… this is painfully awkward,” Shuri muttered as she sat down in her seat next to the Queen Mother. “W-Welcome home, Naja.” 

She cleared her throat, an even and cold timbre falling on her voice. No longer did Naja, the sister and friend, sit at the table. Naja, the spy, with her iron clad facade sat before them. Cold, unfeeling, ruthless. Unbreakable, she reminded herself. That was the weapon she had fashioned herself into. That was who she was now. And she was better for it. 

“Thank you, Princess. I am happy you are back and well. I see much has changed since my last visit. Erik.” 

He had started to make his way to his own seat but stilled at the sound of his American name. It was the name he had gone by his entire time in Wakanda when he moved here as a child after his father’s death. Prince Erik, preferably just Erik, he forced everyone to call him. But Naja… she was the one person aside from T’Challa he allowed to call him by his Wakandan name. She knew he had once loved hearing her say it as much as she loved to say it. She knew the dig, however coded it was, hit its mark, a part of her savored in the hurt that crossed his face. 

“I prefer N’Jadaka,” he offered as he sat down in the last open seat directly across from her, which only increased her anger. 

“Hmm… So you have returned to Wakanda for the birth as well, Erik?” She asked, ignoring his preference. She would never call him N’Jadaka or prince again. She did not care if the whole damn country referred to him as such. 

He sucked his teeth. “Nah. I’ve been back for months… I owed T and Wakanda a favor so I’m home for good, helpin’ rebuild after everythin’.” 

The entire table seemed to shift as rage wafted off Naja. She cut her eyes from Erik to T’Challa, the rest of the room falling away as she threw him a glare that made him thankful the heart-shaped herb ran through his veins. However, beneath that glare, T’Challa knew it masked hurt and one question only he and Nakia could likely decipher. 

How could you? 

“I have suddenly lost my appetite. Sister, I will check in on you in the morning. Good night.” Her fork loudly clanked against the dinner china before she rose from the table. She ignored the calls of her sister and T’Challa for her to stay as she turned to leave. She slowed herself just enough to kiss her nephew on the forehead briefly before exiting without a second glance.

He was home… How could T’Challa not tell her? Tell her that she would be living under the same roof as him for months? Did he consider her too fragile for such knowledge? That her feeble, weak mind would collapse or fall apart? Those days were behind her. 

She had turned all that hurt and pain into fuel, it drove her and pushed her. And now here he was, and all that hurt she suppressed for 15 years, all of that was back with one look at his face. She hated him, despised him. She did not want to look at him, much less sit across from him at every meal for the next two months. 

She could not do it. Fuck the King’s commands. She was returning to Niganda tonight. Even if she had to hitch hike the entire way. 

She was so wrapped up in her escape plan that she did not hear the footsteps behind her until she felt a presence directly on her back. Without thought, she pulled out the gun still tucked in her waistband and cocked it, aiming it directly at… T’Challa. 

She ignored the bang of the Doras’ spears on the ground as she kept the gun aimed at him. She was thankful it was just him. That was the one thing she did not enjoy about her life as a spy, her instincts were too difficult to turn off now. 

“Still ever vigilant, I see?” T’Challa raised his hand to the Dora, silently ordering them to stand down, wholly unperturbed at having a gun pointed at his chest. 

“Well, you never know when someone’s gonna betray you,” she spat with venom that made him flinch.

“I understand you’re upset...” 

“You understand nothing,” she seethed, taking a step toward him. She lowered the gun, the weapon shaking in her hand. “I understand that you knew I would not agree to return if I knew he was here so instead of telling me of the birth and asking me to return, you forced my hand. I understand that you used your title and my love for my sister as manipulation to force a reconciliation. It. Is. Not. Happening.” 

“You cannot avoid him forever. You are both part of this family.” 

She paced, agitated and frustrated. “I can and will avoid him forever. Because if I don’t, I will use his body to test out the multitude of ways I know how to kill someone.. I can’t believe you didn’t warn me he was here.” 

“I am sorry. I thought it would help but I was wrong.” He sighed before gesturing at the gun. “Will it help?” 

She thought about it and nodded. 

The black fibers of his suit emerged and covered his whole body. With perfect precision, she shot him over and over again, emptying her clip until his suit was bright purple with the stored kinetic energy of each bullet. The loud bangs reverberated through the halls, her eardrums rattled. 

“Better?” He asked when she finally lowered the gun and tucked it back in its hiding spot.

“Yes… and no. You’re still able to talk,” she muttered. Though shooting something did take the edge of her anger off. 

“I am sorry for deceiving you. You are right, I knew you would not return if you knew Erik had returned home permanently. But your sister… and I… we need you here. I know what he did, the pain he caused you. And if you do not speak to him ever again, you would be within your right. But I ask very little of you, Naja. And right now, I am asking you to stay here,” Naja was annoyed that he somehow already realized she was going to run back home. “And endure for us. Two months and then you can leave and I will not utter a word to convince you to stay. I promise.”  

She nodded. “Fine. But just so you know, any ill conceived notion you had of me returning to this country for good? That is gone now. As long as Erik Stevens calls Wakanda home, I never will.” She turned on her heels and disappeared down the hall, leaving T’Challa alone surrounded by shell casings. 

She only paused when she heard him yell back, “I’ll have dinner sent to your room. Please eat or your sister will kill me.” 

She scoffed. “That’s not reason enough,” she called back. Though they both knew she would eat whatever was brought to her. 

***

Unlike Naja, Erik was able to hide his emotions a tad bit better and hold it together through dinner. However, his emotions did not include rage, except for toward T’Challa. All he had felt at dinner was the hot, uncomfortable spotlight of guilt and shame. What he had done, he’d never forgive himself. And any stupid notion he once had that Naja could forgive him one day was wiped out in a manner of minutes. 

“What the fuck, T?” Erik demanded as he stormed into T’Challa’s office, the King nursing a glass of rum as he continued to work. 

“Your ex already shot me several times this evening, figuratively and literally. So go easy on me, N’Jadaka.” 

“You told me she didn’t ever come back to Wakanda? That she moved on??

T’Challa shrugged. “Those things are not untrue. Naja is a War Dog stationed in Niganda,” he admitted. “You wanted nothing to do with Wakanda once you left and worked for the US Government so I could not reveal War Dog identities to you. And when you came back, I thought it best that she remain out of sight and out of mind.” 

Erik’s eyes grew wide. “W-wait, w-wait… a watch and report back War Dog or a Hatut Zeraze-era War Dog?” 

There was a distinction, one only a precious few in the country knew. For most, the War Dogs were merely spies, a Wakandan-style CIA force that watched, patiently integrating themselves into their host country’s world to report back critical information to protect Wakanda. However, past kings used a specialized force of them for other purposes, ones the average Wakandan knew nothing of, purposes that actually kept Wakanda safe and protected all these years. 

T’Challa sighed and rubbed his eyes. “The latter until my coronation. She was handpicked during training by my father, and worked her way up to leading missions across the continent and beyond.” 

Erik scoffed. “Missions… I know what missions mean. Assassinations, torture.”

T’Challa tilted his head. “None that we would ever admit to.  She is stationed in Niganda 90% of the time unless my father needed her for another assignment. When I became king, I disbanded that portion of the War Dogs and she has been our lead War Dog in Niganda ever since.” 

The stinging heat of anger and fear prickled his brain. The Naja he remembered was soft, not in a bad way either. You wanted to lean into her and soak up her warmth. It was comforting and soothing. However, he knew first hand the things she would have had to do to be part of that specialized force. And he would not wish the damage all that had done to his own soul on anyone else, least of all her. 

“’N you didn’t think to tell a nigga she was comin’?” 

“I thought 15 years was enough time for you both to move past everything that transpired. Clearly I was wrong.” 

“She still hates me?” 

T’Challa scoffed. “Is there a word stronger than hate? Because that may be more accurate.” He paused. “Do you still feel guilty?” 

Erik merely nodded, his finger fidgeting with his father’s ring, which he had worn around his neck since he was a small boy. 

“15 years and one look at her and all that shit just comes right back,” he let out a low whistle. “She looks damn good. Different though. Not just physically. She’s colder than I remembered.”  

“You miss her?” 

He nodded. “Yea, being back here this year. She’s gone but every fuckin’ place in this damn country reminds me of her. I fucked up.”

“You still love her?” 

Erik shrugged. “A lack of love was never the issue. Doesn’t matter if 50 years go by… it’d still be her. Only her. Who knows, maybe I can make this shit right. Can’t be a coincidence that Bast brought us both back?” 

“May I be honest with you, cousin?” 

“Me saying no ain’t ever stopped you.” 

“When Naja first joined the War Dogs, her father made a personal plea to my father and I  to reject her application. When I asked him why, he said that though they were crafted by the same hand, his daughters could not be more different. Nakia, he said, was an assassin’s blade. Beautiful, striking, and when wielded with the right hand, deadly. While Naja was no weapon at all. She was a delicate sculpture, something to gaze upon, he said. She could be a weapon, like anything. But one blow would be all you get and the cost would destroy her and she would never be the same again.” 

“This fuckin’ Wakandan proverb shit,” Erik mumbled. “Like what the fuck does that even mean?” 

“It means… You broke her, N’Jadaka. And that isn’t a judgment or condemnation,” he added at the pain that flashed across his face. “I understood then and now what ailed you when you did what you did. But you broke her. And to cope with that pain, like you, she picked up all those broken pieces and fashioned herself into a weapon that is more deadly than even Nakia ever was. Someone who is unbreakable. She is the most lethal weapon I’ve ever seen with stunning effectiveness and precision. She is pragmatic, she is cold, she is cunning, and merciless. And for her, love for anything other than this country and its throne is weakness. She is not the Naja you left here 15 years ago. She may look like the woman you love but she is an entirely different person, N’Jadaka. Be wise and remember that.”

“What are you saying?” 

“I am saying that as much as I would love to see the two of you reconcile, this Naja will sooner kill you before she will let you close enough to break her ever again. Goodnight, cousin.” T’Challa grabbed his glass and stood up, walking to the door, leaving Erik to contemplate the consequences of his actions. 

Tag List: @miyuhpapayuh @pipsqueak-98 @injerafiend @themakingsofdion

A/N: Ok I've never written Erik before so I'm really excited. I also feel like this OC is very unlike my others so I'm excited about.

Drop a comment and let me know what you thought or if you want to be tagged!

[mousemannation]

kokkinakis' presence in the 2023/24 tennis sphere is sooooo specific. despite not have a particularly good season AND not even being the most popular australian player, he's always around.. lurking.. he shows up in media content more than he probably should, i am always being jumpscared.

subbing in for adm at davis cup wasn't particularly surprising, I mean we only have so many players to pick from; but for laver cup is more interesting to me. I do think they specifically wanted the replacement to also be australian to like keep the spread of team world, so that helps. I saw comments on the instagram post saying it should've been Popyrin, but I'd assume they have backups for all the players chosen way in advance, and Popyrin only really became a viable option after he won montreal and then of course his uso defeat of novak.

But again, Kokkinakis hasn't had a great season. It's not been catastrophic but his love affair with five set matches is disastrous lol. His whole career has been plagued with injuries and he's never really recovered from the loss of momentum that caused. He definitely could be much higher ranked though...

I think the combination of a couple of big (singles) wins over his career + the ao22 doubles slam win (which should never be overlooked!!!) + general proximity to the cannot stay out of drama for the life of him kyrgios has granted kokkinakis a sort of staying power in the tennis space he otherwise would not have.

He's never been a crazy public presence himself, even when the whole Special Ks thing was fucking everywhere at ao22 his shtick was always in contrast to kyrgios' chaos. He's so just a dude??? Honestly even his sort of friendship with tsitsipas is overshadowed by kyrgios' weird on again off again friendship with tsitsipas. Kyrgios is an ever present spectre in kokkinakis' public presence and im so curious how that will evolve when kyrgios (unfortunately) returns to the tour.

Anyways,, i hope any of that made sense siekskks it's just something I've been thinking about for a while, but especially since his subbing in for adm at both Davis cup and laver cup. I'm solidly neutral about him by the way, like this isn't any sort of criticism or whatever on him!!! Just some rumination! Also omg Im pretty sure I haven't like said any lies but do nawt take this as gospel im mostly going off vibes so if any details r wrong I apologise!!!

[ananke-xiii]

okay so the thing that I personally like about that scene in the confession booth in "Paint In Black" is that, to me, it feels very real? precisely because there is no confession at all.

Like, Dean enters that booth knowing he needs to lie about his sins because he's on a case but then he ends up starting what the priest calls "soul-searching", aka the "examination of conscience". Now, this is cool because, techincally speaking, one should do that before confession, to prepare for it and to actually confess one's sins in a "sincere" way. However, since the first confession in a catholic's life happens before first communion, which in turns happens around age 10-12, it's not infrequent for young people (and not only them, I believe) to just... lie about their sins. I surely did because, truth be told, the church had sent us on a "spiritual retreat" trip to learn how to do this internal examination and do our first confession afterward but I was like: dude, I'm only 11. So I lied because the silence was awkward and I apparently just *had to have found* at least a tiny speck of sin inside myself which I honestly didn't.

So I'm not going as far as to say that lying at confession is a canon event for young catholics but that scene felt 100% absolutely real to me. Of course, fiction being fiction, that scene had to mean something else as well and Dean is neither catholic nor a teenager (and he's also bearing the literal first curse, lol) so his surprise at the "say four or five prayers and you're good as new" feels genuine. SO he starts asking (himself) questions, which is a good first step for some serious soul-searching: "I thought I was ready to die but what if I'm not? As a matter of fact, I'm starting to think that I'm definitely not and I'm scared because I want to live my life because maybe there is more to it than I thought". Woah, this is heavy, existential-level stuff. And, of course, we don't get to hear the real confession and I think it's fair and beautiful because: a. wanting to live life is not a sin to confess; b. how one wants to live their lives is nobody's business; c. confession is indeed confidential so it wasn't for our ears to hear it anyway.

What we do hear is Sister Mathias "confessing" to Dean that that guy was cheating on his girlfriend. She wasn't a priest so she wasn't bound to secrecy but she did bond with Dean and so she spilled the tea. She's presented a little bit like "Gina", aka a smokescreen: yeah she's the hot nun that Dean finds attractive but is she really? I mean, yeah she is hot okay, but Dean's attracted to her because she seems to have gone through something that's similar to that he feels he's going through as well and wants to ask her questions and know about her experience.

There's an unsual sensitivity for a Buckleming episode around Sister Mathias because she's made a very specific choice and she's not judged for it. She understood Isabella because they also happened to share a similar story made of "painful love". Because of that love, Isabella was forced, unlike Sister Mathias, to enter a convent even though she felt like dying when she did so. Isabella committed an awful act but I mjust admit that I feel sympathy for her because her life was undeniably sad and ended horribly. Even as a ghost, first of all she ended up in a foreign land (lol, ghosts language is universal I guess), but she was also eternally tied to that one painting made by the lover who "betrayed" her. She lost everything, she had nothing that belonged to her. Not even her journal was hers, because it had become her father's after her death.

It's interesting that, just like we don't get Dean's "real" confession, Dean didn't want Sam to read Isabella's journal. There’s – there’s things, there’s…people, feelings that must stay secret. Or only told to and shared with the right person.

[crossdressingdeath]

HOLY SHIT THAT ALARIS BACKSTORY! How does this affect things come Inquisition? I feel that both Cassandra's personal quest and ANYTHING involving Cullen are going to be fascinating.

The really fun thing with Cullen is that he doesn't remember or recognize Alaris at all. After all, why would he remember some random "girl" (...oh yeah, side note, Alaris is trans now. Don't think I've mentioned that on Tumblr before, I've been getting up to gender shenanigans) telling "lies" about a Templar? Mages lie all the time, why should he take any note of it? And no one notices the Tranquil at all. Alaris meanwhile absolutely remembers Cullen. This makes some conversations, notably the one where Cullen insists that Meredith hid "the things he'd question" from him, come across very differently from how Cullen probably intended them to. The general vibe is very much "You ruined my life and it was so standard for you you don't even remember it and you're telling me you didn't question that?"

With Cassandra that conversation after her personal quest where she's like "Oh... I suppose there's a cure for Tranquility... but they might stay super emotional after they're cured so maybe we shouldn't cure them... I'll have to investigate..." lives in my head rent-free with Alaris especially. Because like... it's a horrific thing anyway, the way Cassandra entirely casually suggests that ex-Tranquil maybe being more emotional than the average person who was never Tranquil (on the grounds that one guy was a little emotional in the first like. week of being cured and it made other people a bit uncomfortable! That's all the proof she's got!) might mean that they shouldn't be cured of having their emotions burned out of them by the Chantry is a whole thing that the game does not explore at all. But with Alaris it's like... in my head he's mostly good at staying calm and sweet and controlled but sometimes his temper bursts out of him unexpectedly and even he doesn't know if he always would've been like that or if it's a side effect of having been Tranquil and he still wouldn't go back to being Tranquil for anything. And he wants to scream at Cassandra for daring to suggest that his life isn't worth living because maybe he's a little temperamental at times, but he can't because admitting that he was Tranquil means admitting that he was cured, and the only known cure for Tranquility is possession and he can't trust the Inquisition not to kill him at the first opportunity for having been possessed even though he isn't anymore. Also the bit in the first conversation after her quest where she asks about Tranquility and one response is "You mutilate mages" and she says she always thought of it as a necessary evil hits very different when playing a former Tranquil.

(Also, one I find very interesting with this situation is actually Sera? Because she's got her whole thing where she openly thinks elves and mages aren't little people when in fact they are the very definition of little people, and in this worldstate Alaris is sitting there listening to her talk like he's never suffered and the whole time he's thinking "I was nothing, less than nothing, little better than a talking table in the eyes of the world, and you have the fucking gall to sit there with your noble upbringing and your freedom and your access to the funds to do things like travel all across Thedas and talk like I didn't deserve to be saved" and he can't say any of it.)

[peakdeer]

y'know what. i'm requesting your take on eswap flower husbands

I had a whole essay about how I thought this was about eswap s1 and how the idea of eswap flower husbands would be so so so funny before I went back and found out they’ve actually interacted. It’s still so so so funny but just in a different way now

Jimmy wasn’t sure what to think of the small cat—human, he meant—that often visited him. It wasn’t like Scott was a stranger, or even unwelcome—he was just… strange. He was strange in general—despite claiming to be a human, even Jimmy could see that he was obviously a cat, but that wasn’t what Jimmy meant. Scott was his friend—one of his only friends—and yet he didn’t seem to like him very much. Not that the feeling wasn’t mutual—Jimmy often found the cat difficult and annoying, always telling him to do this and do that and not paying him proper homage.

But he was one of Jimmy’s only friends, and he’d found he had a special fondness for the cat. He tried to meet Scott’s requests, even when he didn’t particularly want to, or when it involved being nice to people he’d rather not be nice to.

It was always a good day when the little guy came to visit, and it was nice to know someone outside of his… very not-dead empire. It was especially nice to know someone outside of his empire that didn’t hate him, and who he didn’t hate.

Sometimes, Jimmy wondered if Scott was the only other empire that he cared about.

Scott wasn’t the only other empire who cared about him—of course all the emperors admired their strong and powerful life god! Absolutely. Yes.

He lied to himself, sometimes. It made him feel better, and it didn’t cause any harm, so why not? At least he wasn’t trying to make other people feel better. That always ended badly.

Not with Scott, though. It didn’t exactly go well with Scott, but he liked to think he could make Scott feel at least a little bit better.

On lonely days, he wondered if he should visit Scott. Scott visited him when Scott felt lonely, so why couldn’t he visit Scott?

But, of course, he was too busy. He had to build up his kingdom, after all! …even if it seemed to fall apart the day after he repaired it. Even if everything always seemed to go wrong and he couldn’t keep plants alive and the crops he had managed to keep alive were unsafe to eat and the other empires were mad because he kept destroying things—

At least he had Norman to comfort him.

Jimmy wished Scott had visited him today. He would’ve loved to see the little cat. Maybe he could convince Scott to stay over sometime if he fixed one of the buildings…

Who was he kidding? He was never going to fix them. Jimmy the big, powerful god couldn’t do anything to fix the sad state of affairs in his empire, and he definitely couldn’t fix anyone else’s empire.

He felt bad for trying to help Gem. He’d really wanted it to work! He’d wanted to fix it for Gem; he’d wanted to make her happy; he’d wanted her to thank him and tell him he did a good job.

And, for a moment, he’d thought he had. He thought he’d fixed it.

Of course he hadn’t.

Well, it wasn’t like it mattered, anyway. It was just another person who hated him. That was nothing new.

It was so hard to deal with them. All these emperors that wanted him to be a certain way, do certain things, not do certain things… Scott wasn’t any better; he was the exact same. He was just more willing to forgive Jimmy. And Jimmy had at least had the fortune of not doing something big and stupid to make Scott hate him.

At least Scott was predictable. Scott didn’t change. He was always the same: quick to turn to violence, loud and brash, reckless, and willing to build up Jimmy’s ego if he needed it. That’s not what Scott would call it, though—he’d call it “building up his self-esteem” or something. That was Scott, such a silly guy.

Oh well. He was busy, anyway—he had to finish building up his empire right now. He’d see if he could find Scott later.

Or maybe he wouldn’t. It depended if he was in the mood to talk to Scott. Scott could often be annoying, and sometimes he just didn’t want to deal with him. If Scott said anything about the other empires, Jimmy would rather not talk to him. He wanted to be distracted, not reminded.

Scott found the local god totally exasperating. Sure, he was one of Scott’s good friends. Not like Shelby or Lizzie were, perhaps, but a good friend nonetheless.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t a total nightmare to deal with sometimes and made Scott want to tear out all of his beautiful fur.

He was just so difficult sometimes! He couldn’t seem to be nice to Sausage for the life of him, and he wasn’t much better with any of the other emperors! Plus, he’d heard about what happened with Gem, and he wanted to talk to Jimmy about it. It sounded like he’d killed most of Gem’s land—seriously! That was unacceptable! Couldn’t he go five days without a disaster?!

Urgh. It was giving Scott a headache. He almost wanted to just call it quits and never talk to Jimmy again.

He wouldn’t do that, though. Jimmy wasn’t all that bad, and he found him rather pleasant when he wasn’t doing stupid things and pissing off the other emperors.

Besides, he was pretty sure he was Jimmy’s only friend, and he’d feel really bad if he ditched Jimmy.

The god always made Scott feel bad for him—he couldn’t seem to keep his plants alive or his buildings orderly, and he was always tripping over his feet or breaking something. He was just so clumsy. No one else seemed to see what Scott saw in Jimmy, always seeing the destruction and superiority complex instead of the loneliness and sweetness Scott saw. Jimmy didn’t mean to be standoffish; that’s just how he talked.

Except when he was talking about his glory or majesty or what-have-you. That was probably one of Jimmy’s major flaws—due to being a god, he believed himself higher than they “puny mortals” and couldn’t seem to shake that mindset no matter how hard Scott tried to rid him of it. One day he’d manage it, though.

Now, don’t get Scott wrong, he believed Jimmy was a powerful god and he thought him rather grand. Just, he wasn’t that good, and just because he was a god didn’t mean he was better. Plus, you really don’t make friends that way.

Scott found himself often talking to Jimmy when he was lonely, or when he was confused about Pearl and wanted to talk about his feelings without judgement. Or, without very much judgement. At least Jimmy wouldn’t say anything if Scott asked him not to.

It wasn’t just that, though—he liked Jimmy, his funky little smiles and excited speech, the way he was happy to see Scott and would always stop what he was doing to say hello. Jimmy was the one friend he had who would always be there to talk when he wanted to, the one who never had any big important things to deal with. He could talk to Jimmy as long as he wanted, and then leave, and he wouldn’t be getting in the way of anything. Jimmy was easy to fit into his schedule along with the things he had to get done or people he needed to talk to.

It was good to have friends like that. It was good for him to have someone to balance out, someone to keep watch of and make sure he didn’t do anything too terrible. It was also an exercise in politeness—if Scott said anything too brash, Jimmy would get irritated and become impossible to deal with. If he worded it correctly, though, Jimmy usually listened. He just had to load his sentences up with a little flattery, a little friendliness, and Jimmy would nod and agree, no matter how reluctantly.

Usually. Other times Jimmy would just argue, or be loud, or just too stubborn to listen to Scott. It was annoying when he was like that. Scott would visit Jimmy more often if Jimmy wasn’t so frustrating at times.

Oh well. He’d stop by Jimmy’s to scold him later. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with the difficult, stuck-up god right now. What he really needed was some fish and someone to talk to—someone who wasn’t Jimmy, someone who he could talk to without anything being problematic or likely to end in an argument.

[paperstarwriters]

(you don't have to publish the ask but make sure it's anonymous) please please please don't worry about the anon I think it might be the same person who made a harrass discord group...of course it's good to acknowledge wrongdoings of creators but it doesn't make anyone obligated to stay away from fandom. If you don't support the racist mess that happened it's totally fine if you stay in arcana fandom. Don't worry.

of course, of course. I'm not feeling pressured to leave the fandom right now don't worry about that. I know seeing it can cause a bit of anxiety, and for a little while it did make me feel anxious, I recalled why I wanted to write a lot of the fanfics I make in the first place, I didn't like how they wrote Muriel's ending, and I didn't like how they represented him a lot, so I wanted to make something that fit the image I had of him instead.

Anyways, I was much more curious about the note they made about the problems with Julian being a bird or the various bird motifs and that being antisemitic. I was wondering how or why that was the case, as when I tried searching it up I wasn't really able to find any definite explanations, so I was wondering if they could point me to a resource or something on the topic. I've heard that a merge between an owl and a human can often be antisemitic especially when that owl is presented as an almost demon-like entity with feathers forming horns like that of a great horned owl, and their beak being presented as a large hooked nose. That much, I do understand, but I'm unclear if it applies to the wider range of birds as well, or not.

In my initial search I found a story called Jewbird written by Bernard Malamud, an American-jewish author, and while it serves as the allegory of antisemitism not only coming from outside but inside as well, the nature of the intelligent bird being representative of an older more traditional Jewish individual (according to another source who were likely more able to draw the parallel than I was), presents him as a human-merged with bird individual and the whole point of the text seems to present it as the pure opposite of being antisemitic.

Of course, I can see the possibility of it, that he was presented as a bird in order to subvert the initial expectations and stereotypes, in the same way that Maus by Art Spiegelman does, but I would still like to be better able to understand the bird-antisemitism connection. Does it apply to specific birds? What kind of bird-like representation causes issue? Would the image of birds flying freely over the sky be considered problematic imagery? Why and how? is it the caged bird that is problematic? Why and how? Is there any possible way that this birdlike imagery can spread into other spaces and cause issue? Should Julian never be given feathered wings, regardless if you're creating a bird image or not? is his bird familiar problematic as well??? this is like telling someone unfamiliar with racism against African-american individuals that cotton is not good to them without telling them about the whole history about slavery and cotton picking, leading them to believe that they just take issue with the material of shirts or something.

I know I probably sound kinda nit-pickey, but I am genuinely curious and would love to avoid making any antisemitic mistakes when including Julian and Portia in my works. I wish to avoid this all the time, of course, but most especially now, as discussion on Palestine has spurred a lot of antisemitism due to the cultural genocide from Israel. And while it's clear that what Israel is doing, it's also clear that not all Jewish individuals support that, even though some news groups or people talking about it frame it as if it is.

Of course I'm open and eager for discussion on the other LIs as well and the intricacies of their problematic representation and how that must be handled corrected or re-framed, especially since in the early more.... hostile days of this fandom, I tended to stick to Muriel's route since I hadn't played the other routes in a while/all the way through so I'm a little unaware of all the other characters' misrepresentations (so if you're mentioning Muriel I probably have heard about and considered that one before—this man does not leave my brain lmao)

I can see the possible issues on Nadia being constantly represented as domineering failing to recognize softness in her (which I belive, though correct me if I'm wroing, is about dark skinned women being seen as violent and tough instead of soft or kind), and Asra being represented through Orientalism (mystic, but lesser other with messy foreign traditionalistic magic that must be corrected through the western logic and science—this partly originated in ancient greece so not entirely western as in America)

But yeah, I'm just really curious about it, cause my initial search only brought up news articles about people apologizing for being antisemitic, or the history of antisemitism. Rather than some of the various possible forms of antisemitism or it's possible relation to birds.

[mrsbsmooth]

Scripts - S6 - Episode 30 (Part 2 of 2)

Flo, Andy/Francis, Ozzy Pt.2, Marshall, Amelia's movies.

MARSHALL_IDLE: Since you’ve made yourself the official mediator, Flo.

MARSHALL_HAPPY: I reckon we should pick your clip.

OZZY_IDLE: Confessions Flo-w?

FLO_HAPPY: Ooooh yessss!

GRACE_HAPPY: Are you ever bothered, Flo?

FLO_HAPPY: I try not to be.

FLO_FLIRTY: Unless I’m in luuuuuurve.

Flo gives you a cheeky wave.

CONFESSIONS FLO-W

The onscreen action begins once again.

Flo and {0} are chilling on the daybeds.

{0}_FLIRTY: I’m drowning in your eyes.

FLO_IDLE: Maybe I could save you?

FLO_HAPPY: Heard it before my guy.

FLO_FLIRTY: Cute try though.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Fail.

FLO_HAPPY: Don’t worry about it.

FLO_FLIRTY: You’re fun though.

{0}_FLIRTY: Am I the one for you then?

FLO_FLIRTY: Honestly? Nah.

{0}_SAD: Burn. And I was about to ask if you wanted to couple up.

{0}_IDLE: Amelia definitely isn’t into it anymore.

{0}_IDLE: I’m thinking she’s gonna twist.

FLO_SERIOUS: So that’s the real reason you wanted to twist with me?

{0}_IDLE: Maybe. Could be a way to keep us both safe.

FLO_SERIOUS: It would give me a chance to meet my person.

{0}_SURPRISED: And who’s that?

FLO_FLIRTY: Now, that’d be telling wouldn’t it?

{0}_IDLE: So you’re open to coupling up as a friend couple to give you more time?

FLO_HAPPY: I’m all over it! It’ll work out perfectly.

FLO_HAPPY: I came to the villa to meet the one.

FLO_IDLE: I absolutely don’t wanna go home before I meet them.

FLO_SERIOUS: We’ve got a deal!

The clip fades out.

FLO_HAPPY: See? That wasn’t so bad.

AMELIA_HAPPY: Can’t even be mad at you for that.

{0}_HAPPY: Gotta love that honesty!

Ask Flo if she found somebody

PLAYER_HAPPY: So, if {0} isn’t it for you.

PLAYER_IDLE: Did you find that somebody yet?

GRACE_HAPPY: Good question!

FLO_HAPPY: Very good question.

FLO_FLIRTY: One which I think you know the answer to, {0}.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: Do I?

FLO_FLIRTY: Dig deep. Think about a chat we just had.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Hmm it’s coming back to me.

FLO_HAPPY: I don’t think so.

FLO_FLIRTY: Not yet anyway…

Tell Flo she’s a legend

PLAYER_HAPPY: You’re kind of a legend, Flo.

FLO_HAPPY: Ya think so?

FLO_HAPPY: You’ve all welcomed me with open arms.

She looks over at {0}.

FLO_HAPPY: Even if I’ve come to make moves on you girl.

{0} laughs nervously.

{0}_HAPPY: We are a welcoming bunch.

Tell Flo she’s OTT

PLAYER_IDLE: Woah, Flo.

PLAYER_IDLE: That was kinda over the top.

PLAYER_IDLE: Are you always that honest?

FLO_HAPPY: Yup.

FLO_HAPPY: And it worked didn’t it?

FLO_FLIRTY: Because here I am!

*Dig out {0}

PLAYER_ANGRY: What the hell are you playing at, {0}!

{0}_SURPRISED: What?

PLAYER_ANGRY: What? How about being a complete scheming snake?

PLAYER_ANGRY: You were coupled up with Amelia, but cracked on as soon as she was out of sight.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: She was doing the exact same thing.

PLAYER_ANGRY: She felt a genuine connection with Marshall.

PLAYER_ANGRY: She wasn’t trying to scheme her way to staying in the villa.

PLAYER_ANGRY: She’s here for the right reasons, but I’m not sure you are.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: I felt a spark with Flo.

PLAYER_ANGRY: It doesn’t look like she felt one with you.

Flo bursts out laughing.

FLO_FLIRTY: You’re a boss, {0}.

PLAYER_ANGRY: I’m drowning in your eyes. Who says that?

PLAYER_ANGRY: We’re drowning in your lies.

FLO_FLIRTY: What a zinger! She told you, {0}?

{0}_SAD: She really did. I’ve learnt my lesson.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: How about learning some loyalty first?

PLAYER_SERIOUS: And honesty.

FLO_HAPPY: You just became my hero, {0}.

FLO_HAPPY: Can I take some lessons in awesomeness.

PLAYER_HAPPY: I’m here all week.

GRACE_HAPPY: Love how she pied {0}. But got what she wanted from him.

GRACE_IDLE: It’s what I needed to see after that last clip.

FLO_HAPPY: Glad to be of service.

FLO_HAPPY: I’ll be even more honest with you lot.

PLAYER_IDLE: Oh yeah?

FLO_HAPPY: And admit that I came in here for someone specific.

AMELIA_SURPRISED: Who?

FLO_FLIRTY: {0}.

FLO_HAPPY: It got a bit confusing when she got fake dumped.

FLO_FLIRTY: But I had faith.

FLO_FLIRTY: Now I just have to woo you, {0}.

She flips her blonde hair back over her shoulder and smirks at you.

GRACE_IDLE: Let’s play another movie?

{0}_IDLE: What about Elli-out of sight Elli-out of mind?

ELLIOT_IDLE: That’s a tongue twister.

ELLIOT_EMBARRASSED: Ok, let me prepare myself.

He gives himself a shake and adjusts his glasses.

ELLIOT_HAPPY: Play the movie!

ELLI-OUT OF SIGHT ELLI-OUT OF MIND

Elliot’s clip shows him whispering to the boys…

ELLIOT_IDLE: I am obviously gutted that {0}’s gone.

ELLIOT_IDLE: But me and her didn’t have that much time to get to know one another.

ELLIOT_HAPPY: Surely it would be silly to close myself off?

ELLIOT_FLIRTY: I definitely want to get to know the other girls.

The screen fades to black.

ELLIOT_EMBARRASSED: Erm…

OZZY_IDLE: We did think you’d been dumped, {0}.

{0}_IDLE: Yeah, you couldn’t genuinely think he wouldn’t want to get to know other girls?

Tell those boys to shush

PLAYER_SERIOUS: Oh shut up all of you.

PLAYER_IDLE: I’m allowed to feel how I want to feel.

PLAYER_IDLE: I don’t need anyone to argue Elliot’s case for me.

ELLIOT_IDLE: I am sorry if that was weird to watch though, {0}.

ELLIOT_HAPPY: I’m only into you.

ELLIOT_IDLE: I was just confused and sad that you’d gone so soon into our relationship.

Agree with the boys

PLAYER_HAPPY: Don’t worry boys. I agree.

PLAYER_IDLE: He did nothing wrong.

PLAYER_IDLE: He hadn’t known me that long.

PLAYER_IDLE: Plus, I supposedly went home.

ELLIOT_HAPPY: Thanks for being so cool about it.

ELLIOT_IDLE: I never want to upset you.

ELLIOT_FLIRTY: Now we know each other better, there’s no chance my head would turn.

Give Elliot the cold shoulder

Elliot tries to catch your eye, but you turn your back on him sassily.

ELLIOT_EMBARRASSED: {0}?

ELLIOT_SAD: Sorry if I offended you.

ELLIOT_EMBARRASSED: I really didn’t mean it.

ELLIOT_IDLE: It was only you I cared about.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: I just need a minute.

ELLIOT_IDLE: The last thing on my mind right now is getting to know anybody else.

ELLIOT_IDLE: I like you.

{0}_HAPPY: What about Crimes of the Kitchen?

GRACE_HAPPY: Sounds fun.

PLAYER_HAPPY: I’m down.

CRIMES OF THE KITCHEN

The screen shows {0} and the Casa Amor boys in the kitchen cooking for your breakfast date.

MARSHALL_HAPPY: Alright, mate, I’ve never seen so much oil in a pan.

MARSHALL_FLIRTY: Even my toast is gonna beat your breakfast for {0}.

MARSHALL_HAPPY: Do ya want any bacon with that oil?

HAMISH_HAPPY: Oil is an aphrodisiac.

MARSHALL_HAPPY: The stuff that comes out of your mouth, I despair.

MARSHALL_IDLE: Let me tip some out for you.

Whilst Marshall’s back is turned, {0} turns the toaster dial up.

The clip cuts to the toaster puffing black clouds of smoke.

MARSHALL_SURPRISED: Oh what!

{0}_FLIRTY: I hope {1} likes her toast cremated.

MARSHALL_SAD: Aw man! It’s ruined.

Marshall tries to retrieve his toast. {0} turns away and does a quick celebration dance.

The screen fades to black.

GRACE_HAPPY: Oh that is golden!

MARSHALL_SAD: It was black, not golden!

{0}_HAPPY: {1}, you’re hilarious.

AMELIA_HAPPY: Best clip so far.

MARSHALL_HAPPY: Well, well, well.

MARSHALL_FLIRTY: It seems my best mate in here hath secretly been working as my arch-nemesis.

{0}_HAPPY: It was all too easy.

{0}_HAPPY: There are more pranks where that came from.

Start a round of applause for him

PLAYER_HAPPY: That deserves a round of applause.

You stand up and start clapping.

Your fellow Islanders follow your lead, whooping and cheering.

GRACE_HAPPY: What a legend.

MARSHALL_HAPPY: I’m in awe.

{0} bows with a cheeky wink in your direction.

{0}_FLIRTY: Hopefully you’re my biggest fan, {1}.

Tell him off

PLAYER_SURPRISED: {0}, that might be cheating!

{0}_IDLE: I can’t tell if you’re joking or not, {1}.

{0}_FLIRTY: I like it.

GRACE_HAPPY: She must be.

AMELIA_HAPPY: Are you?

PLAYER_IDLE: I don’t know, am I?

{0}_HAPPY: I love the suspense.

Eat your popcorn and ignore him

You ignore the reactions of the other Islanders and start munching on your popcorn.

{0}_IDLE: {1}?

GRACE_HAPPY: How can you not find that funny?

AMELIA_HAPPY: We used to pull pranks all the time when we were growing up.

PLAYER_IDLE: Never said I didn’t find it funny.

{0}_HAPPY: I love the suspense.

{0}_IDLE: Ok, what clip we picking this time?

MARSHALL_SURPRISED: Wait, what’s that one?

OZZY_SURPRISED: You have got to be kidding me.

GRACE_SURPRISED: No way!

{0}_SURPRISED: Ozzy Making Moves Part 2!

OZZY_SAD: Just get it over with.

GRACE_SAD: I’m so over this.

OZZY MAKING MOVES PART 2

The clip goes back to you and Ozzy on the terrace once more.

OZZY_SAD: I’d just always regret tonight if…

OZZY_SAD: If you were dumped and maybe there was something more…

But this time… It shows your response.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: You might be right there Ozzy…

PLAYER_HAPPY: We’re in the Love Island villa, after all!

PLAYER_FLIRTY: We should be open to exploring each other…

OZZY_FLIRTY: That’s what I mean.

OZZY_FLIRTY: Exploring sounds like fun…

PLAYER_FLIRTY: And I don’t see a ring on your finger, just yet.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: Maybe if we were both single, Ozzy…

OZZY_IDLE: I feel you.

OZZY_FLIRTY: Right place, right time.

PLAYER_IDLE: Exactly.

OZZY_IDLE: It’s still early days in here, who knows what could happen…

PLAYER_FLIRTY: The best is yet to come.

OZZY_HAPPY: I hope you’re right.

PLAYER_IDLE: I’m still processing.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: This was a bit of a surprise!

OZZY_IDLE: I respect that.

OZZY_FLIRTY: I’m glad I said something, though.

OZZY_IDLE: I’d feel like a right plank if I kept quiet.

The screen cuts to black.

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: So I guess that was my clip.

OZZY_EMBARRASSED: But somehow also another way for me to look bad.

GRACE_ANGRY: Ugh. I feel sick.

{0} shifts awkwardly in his chair. He avoids your eye.

{0} glances at you, a flash of annoyance on his face.

GRACE_ANGRY: It’s all so disrespectful.

Remind Grace about Hamish!

PLAYER_ANGRY: Grace, stop!

PLAYER_ANGRY: You seem to forget how often your lips were glued to Hamish’s in Casa.

PLAYER_IDLE: It’s hypocritical.

GRACE_ANGRY: Whatever, {0}.

AMELIA_IDLE: You two just need to take a breather.

OZZY_EMBARRASSED: This is too much.

MARSHALL_IDLE: Yeah I’m sick of seeing your face on the big screen, Oz.

OZZY_ANGRY: Leave it.

Apologise

PLAYER_IDLE: I’m sorry.

PLAYER_IDLE: That’s just how it went down.

PLAYER_IDLE: Can’t change it now.

AMELIA_IDLE: Let’s just be chill about it.

GRACE_SAD: I’m trying.

Spill your popcorn everywhere

You stand up and knock your popcorn bucket everywhere.

GRACE_SURPRISED: Was that on purpose?

AMELIA_IDLE: Grace, let’s not.

PLAYER_IDLE: Whoops.

FLO_HAPPY: I’ll still eat that. Five second rule.

MARSHALL_HAPPY: Oh the drama.

OZZY_ANGRY: Leave it Marshall.

GRACE_EMBARRASSED: I knew that you two were flirty.

GRACE_SAD: It just sucks to see it up there in HD.

GRACE_SAD: Especially because I don’t think you two are done flirting yet.

Ozzy catches your eye for a brief second.

OZZY_EMBARRASSED: Trust me Grace, I’m not loving it either.

GRACE_IDLE: It wasn’t that bad.

GRACE_IDLE: No proper flirting and nothing I didn’t already know.

OZZY_IDLE: Yeah? Good.

There wasn’t enough drama

PLAYER_FLIRTY: That was boring! I want more drama.

PLAYER_IDLE: My clip was so tame.

AMELIA_SURPRISED: Don’t tempt fate.

GRACE_EMBARRASSED: I’m done with drama.

OZZY_IDLE: Yeah, please no more.

I’m relieved

PLAYER_IDLE: I’m relieved. I didn’t want to add to the drama.

AMELIA_IDLE: We’ve had enough for one evening.

GRACE_SAD: Exactly.

OZZY_IDLE: Let’s just sack the rest of the clips off.

MARSHALL_HAPPY: No way.

OZZY_IDLE: Oh yeah, we’ve still got yours to go, lil bro.

MARSHALL_IDLE: Nothing little about me.

Knock your popcorn everywhere

You stand up and knock your popcorn bucket everywhere.

GRACE_SURPRISED: Was that on purpose?

AMELIA_HAPPY: Wouldn’t put it past her.

PLAYER_IDLE: Whoops.

FLO_HAPPY: I’ll still eat that. Five second rule.

MARSHALL_HAPPY: Oh the drama.

OZZY_IDLE: Your clip is coming up, lil’ bro.

MARSHALL_IDLE: Nothing little about me.

PLAYER_IDLE: We must be nearly done.

OZZY_IDLE: Just two to go.

MARSHALL_HAPPY: Mine won’t even be bad.

MARSHALL_IDLE: Calling it.

PLAYER_HAPPY: The Twin Brothers Grim, reckon that’s gotta be yours, Marsh.

MARSHALL_HAPPY: Ya think?

MARSHALL_IDLE: Lights, camera, action!

THE TWIN BROTHERS GRIM

The screen shows a montage of Marshall talking.

MARSHALL_SERIOUS: I’ll tell you about the real Ozzy.

MARSHALL_SERIOUS: And you might not like what you hear…

MARSHALL_SERIOUS: Don’t be fooled by his nice boy persona.

MARSHALL_EMBARRASSED: Ozzy’s always been good at putting on a show.

MARSHALL_EMBARRASSED: Ozzy, on the other hand, he’s slow, stubborn and way too proud.

MARSHALL_SAD: Last time I checked he was still a backup dancer.

The screen fades to black.

The Islanders are stunned. Amelia looks at you, her eyes full of shock.

OZZY_SAD: Wow.

MARSHALL_IDLE: Wow what?

OZZY_ANGRY: Did you just come to the villa to dump on me?

MARSHALL_IDLE: Nope, came to find the girl of my dreams.

AMELIA_SERIOUS: You’re gonna lose her.

MARSHALL_ANGRY: This is all irrelevant.

You’re obsessed with Ozzy!

PLAYER_SURPRISED: You’re obsessed with Ozzy!

PLAYER_IDLE: Every chance you got in Casa, you would bring him up.

MARSHALL_SURPRISED: That’s an exaggeration, {0} and you know it.

MARSHALL_SERIOUS: It’s healthy to vent.

MARSHALL_IDLE: Maybe you’re the one obsessed with him.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: Don’t try to deflect this onto me.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: Take ownership of how you’ve acted.

AMELIA_ANGRY: Yeah, and don’t talk to my sister like that.

MARSHALL_EMBARRASSED: This is stupid.

Just make up

PLAYER_IDLE: You need to stop behaving like a kid and say you’re sorry.

MARSHALL_ANGRY: As if Ozzy is blameless in this situation?

AMELIA_ANGRY: He wasn’t the one talking bad about his brother.

AMELIA_IDLE: That’s just icky.

MARSHALL_IDLE: I give up.

Siblings do argue

PLAYER_IDLE: Siblings do fight. Maybe we should give Marshall a break?

MARSHALL_IDLE: Exactly! Somebody speaking sense.

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: I don’t know, {0}, it isn’t like a one-off argument.

AMELIA_IDLE: Bad mouthing your brother when he’s not there to defend himself?

MARSHALL_EMBARRASSED: I was just venting.

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: I’m not liking this side of you, Marshall.

She looks over at you.

AMELIA_IDLE: I’d never talk about you like that, {0}.

AMELIA_IDLE: And I’m sure you wouldn’t talk that way about me.

FLO_IDLE: It’s your girl, the mediator, back again.

FLO_HAPPY: One more clip!

FLO_HAPPY: I’m so full of popcorn I need to sleep soon.

{0}_IDLE: So we’re ending on Am(elia) Gonna Be Famous.

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: I’m nervous.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: Roll the final clip!

AM(ELIA) GONNA BE FAMOUS

The final clip shows Ivy and Amelia in a private chat.

AMELIA_SAD: I do sometimes regret not taking the opportunity Zeph gave me.

AMELIA_IDLE: My life could have been so different.

AMELIA_SAD: Maybe even better.

AMELIA_IDLE: I don’t know why I’m thinking about it now.

The clip finishes and you feel the others looking at you.

Amelia holds out her hand to you.

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: {0}? You ok?

Kick off

PLAYER_ANGRY: I thought I was done hearing about this whole Zeph thing.

PLAYER_ANGRY: But more keeps coming out.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: It’s getting ridiculous.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: What else haven’t you told me?

AMELIA_SAD: I can explain everything, ok?

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: Let’s finish up here and then we can go somewhere and talk.

MARSHALL_IDLE: Now we’re not the only twins arguing, eh Oz?

OZZY_ANGRY: Stop.

Ask what she meant

PLAYER_ANGRY: What opportunity did you mean?

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: Can we talk about it in private after we’re done here?

AMELIA_IDLE: Then I can explain properly, if you want.

MARSHALL_IDLE: Now we’re potentially not the only twins arguing tonight, eh Oz?

OZZY_ANGRY: Stop.

Take her hand

You take Amelia’s hand and squeeze it.

PLAYER_IDLE: We’ll be fine.

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: I promise we can talk about it if you want to know the whole story.

PLAYER_IDLE: Ok, Amelia.

MARSHALL_IDLE: Looks like we’re the only twins arguing tonight, eh Oz?

OZZY_ANGRY: Shush.

The screen finally fades to black and the Islanders start to disperse, tension hanging heavy in the air.

Amelia gestures for you to follow her.

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: Can we talk now?

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: I owe you a massive explanation.

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: I know you’re angry and I get that. Let me tell you everything!

PLAYER_SERIOUS: I’m waiting.

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: I’ve tried to tell you this a few times in here.

AMELIA_SERIOUS: But something keeps getting in the way.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: What is it?

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: Ok, well you remember when Zeph suddenly upped and left?

PLAYER_ANGRY: How could I forget?

AMELIA_SAD: Sorry, silly question. Well, he didn’t leave as abruptly as you thought.

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: He spoke to me about it first.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: Really? Why didn’t you tell me?

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: Because of what he said to me. But I have to tell you now.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: What was it?

AMELIA_SERIOUS: He asked me to go on tour with him.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: No way!

AMELIA_IDLE: He wanted me to travel the world with him.

AMELIA_IDLE: He knew I always wanted to travel, so thought this’d be the perfect chance.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: Instead of uni?

AMELIA_SERIOUS: I’d have done a gap year. He knew I wanted to work in events.

AMELIA_SAD: He thought this might be a good career launcher for me.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: Why didn’t you go then?

AMELIA_SAD: I couldn’t do that to you. I knew you’d caught feels for him.

AMELIA_SAD: It’d have felt like I was betraying you.

AMELIA_IDLE: Plus, I didn’t want to be apart from you for that long.

You should have gone

PLAYER_SAD: Aww Amelia! You should’ve gone on that tour.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: That was such a cool opportunity.

AMELIA_HAPPY: It didn’t feel right.

Thanks for thinking of me

PLAYER_HAPPY: I really appreciate you thinking of me.

PLAYER_HAPPY: That can’t have been an easy thing to turn down.

AMELIA_IDLE: Not gonna lie, I was pretty tempted.

AMELIA_IDLE: But it didn’t feel right to me.

I feel bad now

PLAYER_SAD: Now I feel guilty about it. You’d have gone if it wasn’t for me.

AMELIA_SERIOUS: One, you didn’t know about it. And two, you’re my sister.

AMELIA_HAPPY: You’ll always come first.

AMELIA_SERIOUS: I wasn’t going to leave you to mope around by yourself.

AMELIA_HAPPY: I thought it’d be more fun if we moped around together.

AMELIA_HAPPY: Only joking, we had a vibey summer at home.

I’m still hurt you kept it from me

PLAYER_SERIOUS: I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me earlier.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: Way earlier! Seriously, Amelia?

AMELIA_SAD: I know, I should’ve told you at the time.

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: I thought telling you would make things sting more.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: You should’ve just explained at the time!

AMELIA_SAD: I know that now. And if I could go back I’d tell you everything.

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: But I just wanted to focus on getting you smiling again.

AMELIA_IDLE: I thought moving on was best for us both.

AMELIA_SERIOUS: I obviously wasn’t going to go and leave you.

AMELIA_HAPPY: You’ll always come first.

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: Did you regret staying?

AMELIA_IDLE: I did for a bit, but it passed soon.

AMELIA_SERIOUS: And I didn’t need him to launch my career anyway. Thanks but no thanks.

AMELIA_HAPPY: Plus, his music was always overrated anyway.

You both laugh and Amelia gently nudges into you.

AMELIA_IDLE: I promise, this is the last revelation about Zeph. You know everything now.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: Ok!

AMELIA_FLIRTY: Back to the here and now. That was an eventful Movie Night!

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: It really was!

AMELIA_FLIRTY: Massive drama! I loved every second of it.

AMELIA_FLIRTY: Could you see me stifling giggles behind my popcorn?

PLAYER_HAPPY: I might’ve caught a glance yeah.

AMELIA_SERIOUS: We need to talk about my man Marshall!

AMELIA_ANGRY: Although I’m not sure he’s still <i>my</i> man!

PLAYER_SURPRISED: Why’s that?

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: The way he slated Ozzy behind his back! And didn’t own it.

AMELIA_SERIOUS: I know they don’t always see eye-to-eye, but he went too far.

AMELIA_SAD: I know you think it’s just sibling bickering.

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: But he should’ve been bigging Ozzy up to us.

AMELIA_SAD: Not slating him, even if they’ve got some beef.

AMELIA_SAD: It kind of gave me the ick.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: I did try to warn you.

AMELIA_SERIOUS: And maybe I should’ve listened.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: So, how are you going to play it with him?

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: I’ve got no idea, {0}. I’m clueless like usual.

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: I know you were attracted to Marshall at the start of Casa.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: Why are you bringing this up?

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: Maybe we were too hasty agreeing to twist together, I don’t know.

AMELIA_SERIOUS: I’ve got a lot to think about right now.

AMELIA_IDLE: I wanted to see where your head’s at with Marshall?

Marshall ticks a lot of boxes

PLAYER_FLIRTY: I’m still attracted to Marshall for sure.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: He’s ticking a lot of my boxes still.

AMELIA_IDLE: Ok, good to know. Thanks for being honest.

Marshall who?

PLAYER_ANGRY: The Marshall ship has sailed for me.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: Me and Marshall aren’t close to being a thing.

AMELIA_IDLE: I get that. Good to know where your head’s at.

Who knows?

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: I don’t really know where my head’s at.

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: That makes two of us.

AMELIA_SERIOUS: I guess we both need to work things out.

AMELIA_SERIOUS: So, did any of the clips put you off anyone?

{0}

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: I was a bit put off {0} to be honest.

AMELIA_SURPRISED: Why? His clip was super cute!

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: Just a bit cringe I guess.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: My head’s not with him right now.

AMELIA_SERIOUS: Yeah, that’s true. Guess he can’t help being into you though.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: I guess he’s only human.

Amelia laughs.

{0}

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: I was a bit put off {0} if I’m honest.

AMELIA_SURPRISED: Really? I thought his clip was hilarious!

AMELIA_HAPPY: Burning Marshall’s toast to try to win your heart.

AMELIA_HAPPY: What’s not to love?

PLAYER_SERIOUS: Agree to disagree I guess.

PLAYER_ANGRY: Elliot saying he wanted to get to know the other girls?

PLAYER_ANGRY: I’d literally just been dumped. Or he thought I had.

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: Yeah I get that. I’d be annoyed too hearing that.

AMELIA_IDLE: I don’t think he meant anything by it though. And he had just got here.

AMELIA_HAPPY: Like he said, he’s fully closed off to other girls now.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: Hmmm.

AMELIA_HAPPY: I’m sensing your head’s with someone else anyway.

Ozzy

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: Ozzy’s put me off him a bit.

AMELIA_SURPRISED: Even though you already knew about it?

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: I guess seeing it back made it all the more cringe.

Marshall

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: I’m with you, Marshall’s clip didn’t sit well with me.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: He shouldn’t have been talking about Ozzy like that.

AMELIA_SERIOUS: One million percent!

{0}

PLAYER_ANGRY: Seeing {0} egging on the boys to cheat. Ergh.

PLAYER_ANGRY: Major ick!

AMELIA_ANGRY: I know, right! Ozzy’s actions are on Ozzy.

AMELIA_EMBARRASSED: But {0} didn’t help at all!

PLAYER_SERIOUS: No, really snakey behaviour!

{0}

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: I was a bit put off {0}.

AMELIA_SURPRISED: Really? But her clip was super cute.

AMELIA_HAPPY: You could see how much you meant to her.

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: Maybe it felt a bit intense, I don’t know.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: I guess my eggs are more in someone else’s basket right now.

AMELIA_FLIRTY: I guess so.

Flo

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: I was a bit put off Flo really.

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: Hearing her scheming with {0} didn’t sit right.

PLAYER_SERIOUS: Especially as it could’ve left you single if you’d stuck with him.

AMELIA_SERIOUS: True, although I was never sticking.

AMELIA_FLIRTY: And she had to make some moves. I thought it was funny.

AMELIA_HAPPY: She’s got a load of confidence.

No, all good

PLAYER_HAPPY: All good on my end. You expect a bit of drama with Movie Night.

AMELIA_FLIRTY: And we sure got it!

AMELIA_FLIRTY: Oh, so I’ve got my read on this, but I’ll ask to be sure.

AMELIA_FLIRTY: Now you’ve seen the clips from Flo and {0}...

PLAYER_IDLE: Go on…

AMELIA_FLIRTY: Which girl are you feeling most into now?

{0}

PLAYER_HAPPY: It’s got to be {0}.

AMELIA_HAPPY: Thought so. Makes sense, you’ve known her longer.

Flo

PLAYER_HAPPY: It’s got to be Flo.

AMELIA_HAPPY: I thought so!

AMELIA_FLIRTY: Speak of the devil, looks like she wants a chat with you.

You see {0} waving you over to join her on the swing seat.

AMELIA_FLIRTY: Looks like someone’s waiting for you by the swing seat.

You see {0} waving you over to join them on the swing seat.

You head over to the swing seat.

{0}_IDLE: Hey, {1}.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: That was a lot, wasn’t it?

It was all drama

PLAYER_SURPRISED: It definitely was all drama.

{0}_HAPPY: Apart from a few sweet moments.

PLAYER_IDLE: Oh, yeah.

PLAYER_IDLE: They got a bit overshadowed by the drama.

{0}_IDLE: I think you might be right about that.

{0}_FLIRTY: More sweet moments to come though I reckon.

Not enough drama

PLAYER_IDLE: In my opinion there wasn’t enough drama!

{0}_SURPRISED: Really?

{0}_IDLE: Your taste in movies might be different than mine then.

{0}_FLIRTY: But I think that’s a good thing.

{0}_HAPPY: We can introduce each other to new stuff.

PLAYER_IDLE: Interesting way to look at it.

{0}_IDLE: I felt bad for the newbies having to watch all the drama unfold.

{0}_IDLE: Being pretty new to the villa, it was quite intense watching all of it unfold.

{0}_SURPRISED: Marshall had a lot to say.

{0}_IDLE: I love the guy, but he was stirring the pot a little.

PLAYER_IDLE: You think?

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Especially with the whole Ozzy and Grace thing.

PLAYER_IDLE: You wanna talk about the Ozzy flirting don’t you?

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Well, yeah. I think we have to.

{0}_IDLE: I don’t want to dwell on it.

{0}_SAD: But the flirting made me wonder if you’re still into him.

It’s complicated

PLAYER_IDLE: It’s all complicated I guess.

PLAYER_IDLE: There’s a lot to figure out.

PLAYER_IDLE: Not just with Ozzy.

PLAYER_IDLE: But there might be some feelings there.

{0}_IDLE: Hmmm, that’s good to know.

{0}_IDLE: I just wanted to make sure I spoke to you about it.

It’s none of your business

PLAYER_SERIOUS: It’s not really any of your business.

{0}_SURPRISED: I hear ya, {1}, but it kind of is.

{0}_IDLE: I know I don’t own you, but we are coupled up.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: I thought that meant something.

{0}_IDLE: I know we aren’t coupled up.

{0}_IDLE: But I thought we were getting close.

PLAYER_IDLE: I just don’t really want to go into it.

{0}_IDLE: I’ll try and respect that.

I’m not, really

PLAYER_IDLE: I mean, not really.

PLAYER_IDLE: That clip was from pretty early days.

{0}_IDLE: I get that.

{0}_IDLE: Doesn’t necessarily mean the feelings have disappeared though.

PLAYER_IDLE: I’ve answered the question.

{0}_IDLE: I just had to ask about it.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: It would’ve pressed on my mind otherwise.

{0}_IDLE: Well, I’m pretty confident that I can take your mind away from Ozzy.

PLAYER_IDLE: Oh, are you?

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: Yeah, it did get heated.

{0}_HAPPY: You didn’t really flirt with him in your clip though.

{0}_FLIRTY: I was pretty happy about that.

{0}_IDLE: Not that I would’ve judged if you had.

PLAYER_IDLE: I would hope not.

So you weren’t jealous?

PLAYER_FLIRTY: You weren’t jealous at all?

{0}_FLIRTY: Interesting question.

PLAYER_HAPPY: Is it?

{0}_IDLE: I don’t always know how you feel.

{0}_FLIRTY: But I know how I feel.

{0}_FLIRTY: Don’t want to waste my time being jealous.

{0}_HAPPY: I’d rather focus on spending time with you…

So we’re good?

PLAYER_IDLE: So, we’re all good?

{0}_HAPPY: Absolutely.

{0}_FLIRTY: Movie Night couldn’t change the way I feel about you.

{0}_HAPPY: I just wanted to make sure I got to steal a little time with you.

So what now?

PLAYER_IDLE: So what now?

{0}_IDLE: I just wanted to chat to you, to be honest.

{0}_IDLE: To make sure you were ok.

{0}_HAPPY: Plus, it was an excuse to steal you for a bit after all the chaos.

{0}_FLIRTY: I think I should ask you how you really felt about my clip…

I liked seeing your close-up

PLAYER_FLIRTY: I enjoyed all your close-up shots.

{0}_HAPPY: Really?

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Mmmmm hmmm.

{0}_FLIRTY: What a coincidence.

{0}_FLIRTY: I enjoyed yours too.

{0}_HAPPY: You’ve got a face made for the big screen.

PLAYER_HAPPY: Do you think so?

{0}_HAPPY: Without a doubt.

{0}_HAPPY: I’m just glad you weren’t too put off by what I said about getting to know people.

{0}_IDLE: My mind is solely on you.

{0}_HAPPY: I’m just glad you weren’t too put off by anything I said.

{0}_IDLE: My mind is solely on you.

{0}_HAPPY: I’m just glad you weren’t put off by my little toast prank.

I was shocked

PLAYER_SURPRISED: I found it quite shocking.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: That doesn’t sound good.

{0}_IDLE: You’ve got me sweating now.

PLAYER_IDLE: I just didn’t realise you’d thought about getting to know other girls.

{0}_IDLE: It was just because I thought you’d gone.

{0}_IDLE: And we hadn’t spent that much time together.

{0}_IDLE: My mind is solely on you.

PLAYER_IDLE: I didn’t know you’d been so loyal.

{0}_HAPPY: Straying wasn’t on my mind at all.

{0}_IDLE: My mind is solely on you.

PLAYER_IDLE: I didn’t realise you were into pranking people.

{0}_HAPPY: I’ve got a cheeky side.

I’m over it

PLAYER_IDLE: I’m over it.

PLAYER_IDLE: Done with Movie Night already.

{0}_IDLE: I think that’s a good thing.

{0}_HAPPY: Nothing we can do to change it.

PLAYER_IDLE: Exactly.

{0}_HAPPY: I’m just glad you weren’t too put off by what I said about getting to know people.

{0}_IDLE: Because my mind is solely on you.

{0}_HAPPY: I’m just glad you weren’t too put off by anything I said.

{0}_IDLE: Because my mind is solely on you.

{0}_HAPPY: I’m just glad you weren’t put off by my little toast prank.

{0} smiles at you gently.

{0}_HAPPY: It’s been a long night.

PLAYER_HAPPY: I guess I should get some rest.

As you stroll back across the lawn you see Grace engaged in a deep chat with Ozzy and Marshall.

{0}_IDLE: Hey, {1}.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: That was a lot, wasn’t it?

It was all drama

PLAYER_SURPRISED: It definitely was all drama.

{0}_HAPPY: Apart from a few sweet moments.

PLAYER_IDLE: Oh, yeah.

PLAYER_IDLE: They got a bit overshadowed by the drama.

{0}_IDLE: I think you might be right about that.

{0}_FLIRTY: More sweet moments to come though I reckon.

Not enough drama

PLAYER_IDLE: In my opinion there wasn’t enough drama!

{0}_SURPRISED: Really?

{0}_IDLE: Your taste in movies might be different than mine then.

{0}_FLIRTY: I thought there was plenty of drama!

{0}_HAPPY: I was gripped.

PLAYER_IDLE: I could tell.

{0}_IDLE: I felt bad for the newbies having to watch all the drama unfold.

{0}_IDLE: Being the new gal in the villa, it was quite intense watching all of that unfold.

{0}_SURPRISED: Marshall had a lot to say.

{0}_IDLE: He’s a good guy, but he was stirring the pot a little.

PLAYER_IDLE: You think?

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Especially with the whole Ozzy and Grace thing.

PLAYER_IDLE: You wanna talk about the Ozzy flirting don’t you?

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Well, yeah. I’m definitely intrigued about that one.

{0}_IDLE: I don’t want to assume anything.

{0}_SAD: But the flirting made me wonder if you’re still into him.

It’s complicated

PLAYER_IDLE: It’s all complicated I guess.

PLAYER_IDLE: There’s a lot to figure out.

PLAYER_IDLE: Not just with Ozzy.

PLAYER_IDLE: But there might be some feelings there.

{0}_IDLE: Hmmm, that’s good to know.

{0}_IDLE: I just wanted to make sure I spoke to you about it.

It’s none of your business

PLAYER_SERIOUS: It’s not really any of your business.

{0}_SURPRISED: I hear ya, {1}.

{0}_IDLE: I know I don’t own you, but we are trying to be together.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: I thought that meant something.

{0}_IDLE: I know we’re still getting to know one another.

{0}_IDLE: But I want to be on the same page, ya know?

PLAYER_IDLE: I just don’t really want to go into it.

{0}_IDLE: I’ll try and respect that.

I’m not, really

PLAYER_IDLE: I mean, not really.

PLAYER_IDLE: That clip was from pretty early days.

{0}_IDLE: I get that.

{0}_IDLE: Doesn’t necessarily mean the feelings have disappeared though.

PLAYER_IDLE: I’ve answered the question.

{0}_IDLE: I just had to ask about it.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: It would’ve pressed on my mind otherwise.

{0}_IDLE: Well, I’m pretty confident that I can take your mind away from Ozzy.

PLAYER_IDLE: Oh, are you?

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: Yeah, it did get heated.

{0}_HAPPY: You didn’t really flirt with Ozzy in your clip though.

{0}_FLIRTY: I was pretty happy about that.

{0}_FLIRTY: Not that I would’ve judged if you had, I like a good flirt too.

PLAYER_IDLE: I would hope not.

So you weren’t jealous?

PLAYER_FLIRTY: You weren’t jealous at all?

{0}_FLIRTY: Interesting question.

PLAYER_HAPPY: Is it?

{0}_IDLE: I don’t always know how you feel.

{0}_FLIRTY: But I know how I feel.

{0}_FLIRTY: Don’t want to waste my time being jealous.

{0}_HAPPY: I’d rather focus on spending time with you…

So we’re good?

PLAYER_IDLE: So, we’re all good?

{0}_HAPPY: Absolutely.

{0}_FLIRTY: Movie night couldn’t change the way I feel about you.

{0}_FLIRTY: Movie night wouldn’t change the fact that I like you.

{0}_HAPPY: I just wanted to make sure I got to steal a little time with you.

So what now?

PLAYER_IDLE: So what now?

{0}_IDLE: I just wanted to chat to you, to be honest.

{0}_IDLE: To make sure you were good.

{0}_HAPPY: Plus, it was an excuse to steal you for a bit after all the chaos.

{0}_FLIRTY: I think I should ask you how you really felt about my clip…

I liked seeing your close-up

PLAYER_FLIRTY: I enjoyed all your close-up shots.

{0}_HAPPY: Really?

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Mmmmm hmmm.

{0}_FLIRTY: What a coincidence.

{0}_FLIRTY: I enjoyed yours too.

{0}_HAPPY: You’ve got a face made for the big screen.

PLAYER_HAPPY: Do you think so?

{0}_HAPPY: Without a doubt.

{0}_HAPPY: I’m just glad you weren’t too put off by anything I said.

{0}_IDLE: You saw that my mind is solely on you.

{0}_HAPPY: I’m just glad you weren’t too put off by anything I said.

{0}_FLIRTY: I just wanted to get here to meet you.

I was shocked

PLAYER_SURPRISED: I found it quite shocking.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: That doesn’t sound good.

{0}_IDLE: You’ve got me sweating now.

PLAYER_IDLE: I just didn’t realise you’d thought about leaving for me.

{0}_IDLE: I really didn’t think there was anything left for me in the villa.

{0}_IDLE: I was gonna be so bored without you.

{0}_IDLE: You’re the girl I wanted to hang with.

PLAYER_IDLE: I just didn’t realise you and {0} had a plan like that.

{0}_HAPPY: I wanted to get to meet you, plus I knew he’d want to stay.

{0}_FLIRTY: So it all worked out pretty well.

I’m over it

PLAYER_IDLE: I’m over it.

PLAYER_IDLE: I’m done with Movie Night already.

{0}_IDLE: I think that’s a good thing.

{0}_HAPPY: Nothing we can do to change it.

PLAYER_IDLE: Exactly.

{0}_HAPPY: I’m just glad you weren’t too put off by anything I did.

{0}_IDLE: Because my mind is solely on you.

{0}_HAPPY: I’m just glad you weren’t too put off by anything I said.

{0}_IDLE: Because I just wanted to come in here and click with you.

{0} smiles at you gently. The moonlight glints deep in her eyes.

{0}_HAPPY: It’s been a long night.

{0}_HAPPY: We should get some rest.

As you stroll back across the lawn together you see Grace engaged in a deep chat with Ozzy and Marshall.

You walk into the bedroom to find the girls sitting on the ends of their beds.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: Where are the boys?

AMELIA_IDLE: I think {0} and {1} are making late-night nachos.

{0}_HAPPY: I’m hungry now.

FLO_EMBARRASSED: I’m so full of popcorn please don’t talk about food ever again.

PLAYER_IDLE: Grace is talking to Ozzy and Marshall in the garden…

AMELIA_SURPRISED: Well that’s a plot twist.

{0}_HAPPY: Maybe she’s actually trying to get them to make up.

AMELIA_IDLE: That would be a miracle.

{0}_IDLE: Whatever they’re talking about, I’m keeping out of it tonight.

{0}_IDLE: I actually can’t keep my eyes open.

Your phone pings from the bedside table.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: I’ve got a text!

LITEXT: Islanders, get some rest because you’ll be meeting a new arrival in the morning! {0}MorningCuppaT {1}BombshellForBreakfast

Amelia flops onto her bed dramatically.

AMELIA_FLIRTY: The fun never stops does it?

NARRATOR: Another bombshell! Don’t we spoil them.

NARRATOR: Can I just say, nobody told me about the concept of late-night nachos.

NARRATOR: They feed me the villa leftovers, you see.

NARRATOR: I’ve been thriving on a diet of protein smoothie dregs and pizza crusts.

NARRATOR: Yum! Join us next time on Love Island to meet the tasty new Islander.