#MY FAVORITE LINE USED AGAINST ME BRO.........

[aziraphaleswings]

[ID: Image 1 is a gif of Aziraphale in season 1, teary-eyed, gently saying "I forgive you" to Crowley. Image 2 is a gif of Aziraphale in season 2, distraught, saying "I forgive you" with a much harsher, upset expression. End ID.]

(gifs by @maria7potter and @wibblyowzah respectively)

yeah i am never ever ever ever going to fucking recover from this

[lord-squiggletits]

Ahhhhh I really didn't imagine it, I still dislike Barber's way of writing Orion/Optimus just as much as I did on the first reading and all it took was rereading a few screencaps from one specific scene.

Literally I don't know which part annoys me more: Jetfire existing in the background solely to go "ORION PAX FUCKING SUCKS AND IS A HYPOCRITE", Orion being written like an edgy asshole who hates everyone, or Soundwave talking like an unhinged terrorist and the narrative expecting me to see Orion as the hypocrite for using violence to arrest terrorists.

Soundwave is seriously like "You have no proof we assassinated the Senate, but if we did assassinate the Senate it would've been justified, but also totally trust us bro, just because we could've hypothetically murdered the entire reigning government doesn't mean that we're violent bro come on just bc we assassinated-- I mean could have hypothetically had the means and cause to kill like a hundred people doesn't mean we were gonna kill anyone else, come on bro why are you calling us violent just bc we think some murder is okay" while Jetfire is in the background like "WOW ORION I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE WILLING TO BE VIOLENT IN RESPONSE TO OTHER PEOPLE BEING VIOLENT. YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR OWN SIDE'S FLAWS EVEN THOUGH YOU'RE LITERALLY DOING AN INVESTIGATION TO DECIDE WHETHER ONE OF YOUR COPS COMMITTED AN UNJUSTIFIED KILLING OR NOT. YOU HAVE DONE LITERALLY NOTHING TO TRY AND FIGHT THE CORRUPTION IN SOCIETY." (Jetfire had no way of knowing about OP and crew fighting the Senate's schemes in Shadowplay and Elegant Chaos, but as a reader it's very frustrating seeing Orion getting lambasted as never having done anything to fight society's corruption when he literally did, and by the time he was even working for Zeta Megatron was already evil and had the whole Senate assassinated.)

Like ughhhh oh my god I could have maybe enjoyed this story under a better writer but as it's written it's some "yet you participate in society, curious" levels of political commentary where at least one character seemingly only exists in the scene to shit on OP (something that happens a lot in Barber's works, like with Pyra Magna and Slide) and where OP is framed as a hypocritical asshole for a reaction that's very understandable given the context.

And also it's weird because Barber wants so badly for you to read Orion as some sort of hypocrite for being against terrorist activities but being willing to employ violence himself to arrest terrorists, yet... it turns out the big twist of the story is that the Decepticons WERE smuggling weapons and Soundwave DID lie to Orion (even if it was unintentionally), thus vindicating Orion's entire distrustful attitude? Like, it seems as if it was supposed to be an ACAB story showing how evil the police are for killing people and how Orion (as a cop) is evil for being a cop that uses violence on behalf of the state. Except uh. Then Barber wrote a plot where the Decepticons literally were smuggling weapons all along (and this is alongside lore from Megatron: Origin where we as the readers know for a fact the Decepticons/Starscream killed the Senate) so.... Like, it just seems to me that if Barber wanted to write an ACAB story about how the state monopoly on violence is bad, he probably shouldn't have written the Decepticons as actually being terrorists who literally did lie about smuggling weapons?

I feel like a better way to write an ACAB/anti-state-monopoly-on-violence would've been to like, explore the way that states take advantage of catastrophe/using scapegoat political movements to gather more power to themselves and justify removing citizens' rights with "it's an emergency, we're taking away your freedoms to protect everyone." Like, maybe Zeta passes some law saying that officers can search citizens without a warrant, which he justifies with the fact that Decepticon terrorism is so rampant that officers need immediate permission to conduct raids/searches. Except this is obviously a problem because people have a right to privacy, and probably the cops are super overzealous and end up arresting innocent people without cause (like idk, maybe just being friends with someone who is sympathetic to the Decepticons gets someone landed in jail? Maybe Jetfire gets arrested bc he's critical of the state and has hung out with Decepticon sympathizers before). So then Orion has an actual "are we the baddies?" moment where he wants to stop the bad people, but he realizes that his side are infringing on people's citizens and justifying police brutality for the sake of a nebulous "greater good," and that even though he and his cops were given greater power to supposedly "protect citizens," in practice they're actually doing great harm to citizens by invading their privacy, creating a surveillance state, and imprisoning people without just cause? Basically "we were given this power to stop terrorists from hurting civilians, but now we're hurting civilians too so are we actually doing any good?" Because that way Orion and his cops would ACTUALLY be in the wrong and their state monopoly on violence would be an actually widespread institutional thing where they're clearly being allowed to do bad things just because they're cops. Not just Orion investigating one singular police killing.

But with the story written as "Orion suspected the Decepticons of murdering the Senate (he's correct about this) but still investigated one of his officers to see if he committed a wrongful murder (literally him paying attention to his own side's wrongdoings, Jetfire), and it turns out the Decepticons WERE smuggling weapons and doing terrorism (Orion was correct about this)" it's just.......... like, Orion may not be morally correct, but his hunches/investigations about the suspected criminal activity were literally correct. AND HE WAS WILLING TO DO THIS INVESTIGATION IN THE FIRST PLACE. But for some reason he's still framed as if he's an asshole for this? Even though this is a point in the pre-war lore where Megatron won't back down from violence and has lost his way from his original pure intentions, so it's not like Orion can just go "let's put down our weapons and be friends and mutually trust each other to not stab each other in the back."

It just feels as if Barber's intentions to write an ACAB story where Orion is framed as being too judgmental and quick to be violent don't line up with the actual events of the story. The story is desperately trying to call Orion a hypocrite, but he really just seems as if he's reacting understandably to the events that are happening around him, so there's a real dissonance here where I don't understand why the ACAB story had the cops be right about the Decepticons committing terrorism, and I'm also supposed to see Orion as an asshole for correctly not trusting the Decepticons???

[whytheylosttheirminds]

home for the holidays (part one) - r.c.

❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️

summary a simple favor for a friend ends with you reluctantly bringing Rafe Cameron, resident campus fuckboy, home for the holidays. It’s gonna take more than a little mistletoe for him to win you over…

content “enemies” to lovers, copious amounts of flirting, eventual smut, a dash of familial angst, parental illness and mentions of parental death, 18+ mdni

Brodyyy <3: hey thanks again for offering to give me a ride back to nc for break!

You: ofc! anything for u after u gave me those o chem notes bestie

Brodyyy <3: i’m glad to hear ya say that…bc i have one more favor to ask

You: what’s up?

Brodyyy <3: one of my frat bros needs a ride back too, can he join?

You: does he live near us?

Brodyyy <3: he’s from obx but if you get us to my house I can take him the rest of the way in my mom’s car, so no extra driving for you!

You: yeah then i guess that’s cool!!

You: as long as i’m home before 6pm on the 21st i’m good

Brodyyy <3: cookie day?

You: exactly, u get me

Brodyyy <3: dw we’ll get you home in time for cookies! Tysm!

You: np!

You: what’s his name btw?

Brodyyy <3: …

You: *questioned* “what’s his name btw?”

Brodyyy <3: rafe

You: be so fr rn

You: as in cameron???

You: Brody, did u seriously invite rafe cameron to drive home with us??

Hour one

You could see your breath, fog filling the air with each shivering exhale as you pulled your coat tighter around your shoulders. Even after three-and-a-half years, you’d never gotten used to these North Eastern winters. The plan was to be well on your way towards a milder climate by now, but here you were, leaning against the open hatchback trunk of your car, desperately clutching your hot coffee as you waited for your friend to show up. With his friend. You rolled your eyes as you checked the time on your phone for the hundredth time, none of your many texts to Brody returned.

“Brody, I swear to god,” you mumbled under your breath, “five more minutes and I’m leaving your ass.”

Time ticked on without any sight of him. With a resigned sigh, you reached up to close the trunk.

“Hey wait up!” a voice called from behind you. You whipped around to find its owner.

Standing a few feet back on the sidewalk, sherpa lined corduroy jacket, backpack slung over his shoulder and obnoxiously handsome smirk painted on his face, was Rafe Cameron. Notorious playboy, frat president, and hands down your least favorite person on this campus. 

It wasn’t a big school, everyone knew Rafe Cameron. All of your friends had crushes on him, some of them even managed to hook up with him or have stories of making out with him at frat parties. Every Friday night, he popped up on every Insta story on campus, somehow everywhere at once, and yet your paths had never crossed directly. You were okay with that. You knew his type well enough.

“I’m Rafe,” he interjected when you didn’t greet him.

“I know,” you said dryly.

“My reputation precedes me?” He grinned, his slight southern drawl reminding you of home with a pang of nostalgia, until you remembered that this guy was from a completely different world than you.

“I wouldn’t be too proud of that,” you shot back, slamming the trunk closed. “Where’s Brody?”

Rafe usually gave people about ten seconds before he decided if he liked them or not. A lethal combination of impatience and general distrust that he disguised seamlessly under cocky confidence. Your arms were crossed in hostility as you frowned at him, even though he’d barely said two words to you. 

Ah yes, he knew exactly your type. You were that irritating brand of stuck up smart girl who always saw right through him. Sure, you were surprisingly really pretty, a fact Brody had forgotten to mention, but annoying nonetheless. He decided right then not to like you, since you so clearly had already decided not to like him. 

“He’s not coming,” Rafe informed you. “Didn’t he tell you?”

“No, he didn’t,” you huffed, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he got a gig with a professor to be a research assistant, but he’s gotta stay on campus to do it,” he explained.

“He could’ve told me,” you rolled your eyes, checking the time again to calculate how far behind his no-show had made you. “I’m gonna have to adjust the schedule.”

“The schedule?” He cocked his head, picking up on the tightly wrinkled knot in your forehead as you pulled a folded piece of graph paper from your pocket.

It was color coded and intricate, every mile, every meal, every gas stop accounted for, down to the minute. You had a pencil in your hair, tucked neatly into your messy bun so you could pull it out quickly and make necessary changes, as you were doing now. You held the paper up against the side of your car, erasing and scribbling intensely as you recalculated the trip. 

“I need to be home by six at the latest, it’s nine now, that leaves only an hour for stops and traffic, we were supposed to leave at eight…” you looked up to eye him pointedly as you said the last part, silently blaming him for the delay as you did your mental math.

“Sorry to make you wait, I needed my beauty sleep,” he raised his hands in defense, lips curling back to display his shiny white smile. “You don’t think this all just happens naturally do you?” He gestured to his face.

You tucked the paper back into your pocket as you eyed him up and down, unimpressed and yet simultaneously beginning to understand why all your girlfriends had fallen so easily for this douchebag. He was handsome, sharp features permanently set in an arrogant smirk. His body was tall and lean yet built, enough that you could tell he was muscular even under all those layers. His dirty blonde hair sat messy over his forehead, sticking out at all angles in a way that made it clear he’d just woken up. 

But you were smart, life and your high IQ made you an expert in reading people. You could see right through him.

“I wasn’t waiting for you, I was waiting for Brody,” you shut him down. “And since he’s apparently not coming, I’m gonna hit the road,” you slammed the trunk closed, pulling your keys from your pocket and making your way to the driver’s side door.

You opened the door, fully intending to climb in and drive off on your own, but Rafe appeared quickly by your side, closing the door before you could climb in.

“Woah, woah, wait,” he said, his arm out next to your head to hold the door closed.

You scoffed at his boldness and stepped back, “uhm excuse me!”

“You’re excused,” he smirked down at you. “How am I gonna get home?”

“Greyhound station is that way,” you pointed over your shoulder, trying to push him out of the way of your door, but he was too sturdy to be moved. He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms, planting himself.

“I’d rather ride with you,” he flashed you a devilish grin you just knew he was used to throwing around like currency.

“Dude, can you just let me into my car?” You shut him down.

“What’s the magic word?” God, did this guy have a punchable face.

“Please,” you reluctantly let out through gritted teeth.

“Hmm, no,” he turned it back on you, planting his feet firmly on the ground, both of you knowing there was no way you were gonna be able to overpower his large frame.

“Okay seriously? I know you’re used to using your body to get what you want, but it’s not gonna work this time,” you were done fucking around, an invisible clock ticking in your mind while your trip was delayed even further by this jackass. “Get away from my car.”

“I will when you agree to give me a ride,” his lips twisted and his voice dropped, aimed down at you, “or we can keep standing here and talking about my body.”

You couldn’t help but blush, and he couldn’t help but like it. The embarrassment at the involuntary response only fueled your anger.

“Why would I do that? I don’t even know you,” it wasn’t entirely true, you knew more than you cared to know about him. Or at least, in this moment, you thought you did.

“Brody said you owe him a favor right? Do it for him,” he suggested.

“If he wanted to cash in on his favor, he should’ve been here himself.”

“Okay then, what if I paid for gas? What was Brody gonna do, go 50/50 with you? I’ll cover the whole trip,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick leather wallet, opening it to flash you his black card. 

You couldn’t help but also notice the polaroids tucked in the see-through pockets. On one side, what appeared to be a family photo; Rafe, an older man and two young girls smiling on a giant boat. On the other side, some sorority girls in bikinis, flashing the camera at a charity car wash. Who the fuck was this guy? 

“Brody was also gonna take you the rest of the way to the Outer Banks. I’m going west and there’s no way I’m getting on a ferry, how are you gonna get home?” You reasoned, though he could hear in your tone that you were starting to actually consider saying yes. 

Time to bring it home, he thought.

“I’ll figure it out. Just get me to the ferry and I’ll be fine. I’ll be eternally grateful, I’ll owe you a big favor. And I never do people favors.”

“The more you talk, the less I want to be stuck in a car with you for eight hours,” you said. 

Dammit, his plan backfired. But he hadn’t missed the way you eyed the picture of him with his dad, Sarah and Wheezie in his wallet. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.

“Please? All flights are sold out and I’d really like to see my little sisters for Christmas,” he blinked his wide blue eyes, mustering up all the sincerity he could find.

Family was your weak spot, you wondered if Brody had told him that. As much as you truly did not want to get in this cramped, two-door car with him, you felt bad picturing the two little girls waiting patiently for their big brother to come home for Christmas. Ugh.

With a deep sigh, you finally said, “fine.” 

Rafe slapped his hand on the car’s roof in celebration, reveling in his victory as he finally stepped away from your door.

“I’ll get you to the ferry and that’s it,” you qualified, trying to dampen his enthusiasm. “I need to be home by six, if I’m late you’re gonna owe me a lot more than a favor.”

He crossed his fingers over his heart solemnly, “scout’s honor!”

“You can throw your stuff in the backseat,” you instructed, your trunk already full to the brim with presents for your family.

“What, you got too much junk in your trunk?” He chuckled at his own joke as he jogged around to the passenger’s side.

You rolled your eyes hard as you climbed in the driver’s seat. This was gonna be the longest eight hours of your life.

Hour two

The heat in your car was cranked at full blast, but you were still shivering as you drove. This car was a hand-me-down from your dad, it got you back and forth to school, but left plenty to be desired in the way of amenities.

Based on the designer watch he was wearing and his Gatsby-esque reputation, you were pretty confident this was the least fancy car Rafe had ever been in.

“Sorry about the rattling,” you said, needlessly gesturing toward the dash, which shook steadily with the hum of the engine. “She’s a good car, but she’s got creaky bones.”

“It’s cool,” he shrugged, pulling a pack of gum out of his coat pocket.

“I’m sure the G-wagons you’re used to don’t shake when you accelerate.”

Rafe popped a piece of gum in his mouth, snapping it obnoxiously between his teeth as he looked over at you, head cocked in observation.

“You don’t like me,” he surmised simply.

Your mouth fell open slightly, startled by how directly he clocked you, “I- I barely know you.”

“Then why do you roll your eyes everytime I open my mouth?”

“Maybe I just don’t like what you have to say.”

His eyes narrowed, considering this for a moment before deciding, “nah, I think it’s something else. Did we have a class together or something?”

“No, just a couple mutual friends,” you smiled the fakest of smiles.

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Girls you’ve ghosted mainly,” you said.

“Whaaat, me? Ghost someone? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he smirked.

“Yeah right,” you shook your head with an incredulous laugh that only widened his grin. “You know exactly what I mean, you ghost them and then you gaslight them that you were never a thing to begin with. We call it the Rafe Cameron special.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve never done that,” he said.

“That’s such bullshit, this girl in my hall freshman year showed me all your texts, you totally gaslit her.” 

“Gaslit? Me? You’re crazy…” he said.

You almost took the bait, mouth opened indignantly to argue again before you finally caught onto his game and the growing prideful smirk on his face. He was fucking with you.

You turned the music up, blocking him out as he chuckled under his breath in the seat next to you, ever so pleased with himself.

“Oh, c’mon, lighten up,” he tilted his body toward you, his long legs cramped in the small space of your front seat. 

He placed his hand on the back of your headrest, his arm easily reaching the distance between you. 

“It’s college, it’s not that serious. Everybody’s hooking up and breaking up. I mean, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of flings,” his eyes ran up and down your body with that final remark.

You stumbled over your response. You weren’t necessarily a shy person, but you didn’t walk around discussing your personal life as openly as he apparently does. 

“I…can you stop looking at me like that please?”

“Looking at you like what?” He grinned, feigning innocence.

“Like you know me at all.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he nodded. “Though I think I’ve pretty much figured you out.”

“Oh have you?” Your eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah, I mean, I have my guesses at least…”

“Please, share with the class,” you turned the radio down to better hear his absurdity, sure that he was full of shit.

“You were top of your class in high school, graduating with a…3.97 GPA,” he began. “You got in automatic acceptance to a bunch of state schools but you insisted on going to your reach, which thrilled your parents I’m sure. College isn’t as easy as high school, but you’ve settled around an A minus average final grade. You’re not in a sorority, I would’ve seen you at a mixer, but you’re definitely in some organized groups. Not sports, that’s not practical enough, it’s gotta be something where you can do some networking. Brody said you’re what, pre-med? So you’re probably in some kind of medical honors society. I bet you’ve had only one serious boyfriend, maybe a long distance high school sweetheart, but you’re too focused on school to make that work so you dumped his ass. A few hook ups since then, but nothing real. How am I doing?”

Your eyes were glued to the road, face gone ashen as he continued to nail correct guess after correct guess.

“My high school GPA was 3.98 actually,” you said weakly. “And I don’t like this game.”

Rafe had never been more smug, beaming triumphantly at your confirmation of all his assumptions.

“Don’t worry, I’m done playing,” he leaned forward to take off his coat, balling it up to use as a pillow so he could lean his head on the window. “Wake me up when at the next scheduled stop, will ya?”

“No promises,” you grumbled, making him smile as he drifted off to sleep.

Hour three

Bright red brake lights glowed in a line stretched out in front of you for a mile. You sighed deeply, your foot sore from holding down the brake for a full ten minutes. Resigned, you finally gave in and put the car in park, eyeing the clock on the dash anxiously.

Rafe snored. Loudly.

You shot him a bitter glare as he sat passed out in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the stop-and-go traffic jam you had gotten stuck in, enjoying his free ride and interrupting your music with his loud snores. Out of spite, you leaned forward and turned up the radio until your music was practically blaring through the speakers.

Somehow, like even in his sleep he knew how to push your buttons, he started snoring louder. You turned the music up as high as it would go, singing along at the top of your lungs until he finally started stirring, eyes blinking open. You quickly turned down the music, stifling a laugh at the confused, grumpy look on his face.

“We’re not moving,” he mumbled, groggily taking in your surroundings.

“You have great observational skills,” you teased him.

“You didn’t think to account for traffic on your little itinerary?” He said smugly.

“I did,” you defended yourself, “just not until we passed through DC. This part of I-95 isn’t usually so packed.”

Rafe sat up in his seat, not having much room to stretch out his legs but trying anyway. He watched the way you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, nervously tapping your hands on the steering wheel.

“So what’s happening at six o’clock?” He asked, trying to pull you from your anxious thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Before we left, you said you had to be home at six. What’s at six?” 

“Oh, uh, it’s kind of silly actually, you wouldn’t get it,” you sat back in your seat, finally accepting that the car in front of you wasn’t moving anytime soon.

“Try me,” he said.

You looked at him, trying to decide if you wanted to share and risk his getting his rude opinion on something so special to you. But you were hungry, and tired, and stressed, and honestly, after a few too many hours in his charismatic orbit, you were looking for more reasons not to like him.

“It’s because of cookies,” you admitted.

“Cookies?” He cocked his eyebrow, trying to maintain his non-judgemental stance.

“My mom makes these gingerbread cookies that are literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted. They’re so good, she makes them every christmas, but she only makes one batch. It’s an old family recipe her mom left her when she passed away and my mom said she isn’t supposed to give it to me until she’s…gone…”

You paused to swallow hard, like there were more words fighting their way out. Feeling a little too vulnerable with Rafe’s eyes on you, you pushed them back down. 

“…anyway, I have three younger brothers, and they get home from their practices at six. The second they walk in the door, they’ll attack those cookies and there won’t be any left for me. So I need to get home before them or I’ll have to wait a whole year for more cookies.”

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he decided whether or not he was gonna tease you.

Finally he landed on, “gingerbread, really? They can’t possibly be that good.”

“Oh no, believe me they really are. I’m not usually into gingerbread either but these are seriously the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shot up, smirking at you from his side of the car. It took a second for you to hear your own double entenadre. 

“Oh shut up,” you laughed, reaching over to swat his arm.

“I didn’t say anything!” He pretended to wince, rubbing the spot on his arm you’d hit dramatically. You flexed your hand, surprised that it stung a little, his arm firmer than you were expecting. 

“You question the cookies and then you mock me,” you shook your head. “I should make you get out and walk the rest of the way.”

“No, no!” He chuckled. “I would never question the cookies. I’m sure they’re delicious. Don’t make me walk.”

You zeroed your eyes in on him, “fine. You're safe. For now.”

He wiped his forehead playfully, mouthing a silent ‘phew!’

After a few minutes, traffic started moving again, though painfully slowly. Rafe was drumming along to the radio on the dashboard, growing more impatient by the second. His fidgeting reminded you of a bored toddler.

“Why can’t you mom just make more cookies?” He blurted out.

Your grip tightened on the wheel as sudden brake lights ahead of you forced you to slam on your own brake yet again. This was the direction you were hoping the conversation wouldn’t head in.

“She, uh…she just makes the one batch,” you tried to shrug the question off, but he was too busy tapping away and shifting in his seat to notice your growing discomfort.

“I mean how long can it take? A couple hours maybe? I bet she could just -”

“She just can’t, okay?” You snapped, your growing irritation with the traffic jam making the words come out a little sharper than you’d intended. You took a deep breath when his eyes snapped toward you, “sorry. She just…she can only make one.”

Rafe nodded, his bottom lip sticking out as he returned his attention to his phone, typing rapidly.

“Alright then, take the next exit,” he said.

“What?”

“In a half mile on the right, take that exit,” he repeated.

“Why?” you asked.

“I found a faster route,” he explained. “Let’s get you those cookies.”

Hour four

Rafe was right, the alternate route he found for you had caught you up to schedule, even putting you about twenty miles ahead of where you expected to be by this point.

With the made up time, Rafe finally convinced you to stop for food, and, after several minutes of arguing, to let him drive the next stretch.

It was amazing how much your mood improved with some food in your system. Now that you weren’t the one behind the wheel, it was you shuffling restlessly in the seat, unfolding and refolding your schedule and refreshing the GPS on your phone every couple of minutes. 

“In one hundred and twenty two miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and twenty miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and nineteen miles-“

“Veer left! It’s gonna keep saying the same thing every time, you really don’t need to keep refreshing it,” Rafe grunted.

You shot him a glare, making a show of turning your phone off and tucking it in your pocket. 

“Remind me why you couldn’t just drive yourself?” You snarled. “What, is the Beamer in the shop?”

“It’s a Range Rover, actually,” he corrected you, pulling forth yet another eye roll from you as you mumbled ‘of course it is.’ “And yes, actually, it is.”

“Ah, you pimping your ride?”

He snorted, “what is it 2005? No, I, uh, totaled it, actually.”

“I knew I shouldn’t let you drive,” you winced, grabbing the handle above the passenger door theatrically.

“Relax, it wasn’t my fault,” he assured you.

“Let me guess, the other driver was so blinded by your dazzling smile that they crashed right into you?” 

“There was no other driver,” he said, smirking with a sidelong glance in your direction. “Glad to know you think my smile is that powerful though.”

You regretted your word choice immediately, your brain was working so fast to deflect his charm you had lost the plot a bit. You scrambled to put the focus back on him so he wouldn’t see the way you were blushing.

“Okay so what’s the story then?” You asked.

“It’s really not that interesting. I was driving around campus and there was something in the street, I swerved and hit a tree, that’s it,” he reached to turn the radio a little louder, your eyes narrowing at the avoidant tone he’d adopted.

“You saw ‘something?’ What ‘something’ did you see?” You pressed, amused by his discomfort.

“Just, uhm, an animal in the road,” he said dismissively.

You nodded, a little “ah” leaving your lips as you returned your gaze to the window. You tapped your fingers on your thigh to the beat of the song. You wanted to know more, he knew you wanted to know more. The tension broke quick.

“What kind of animal was -”

“Ohhh my god, you’re so nosy, it was-“ he cut himself off momentarily to lower his voice, “it was a bunny alright?”

Your laugh was immediate and loud, head falling back at the image he’d conjured for you.

“Alright, it’s not that funny but whatever,” he rolled his eyes, unable to suppress the little curve of his lips at the pretty sound of your unguarded giggles. 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said between laughs, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, “it’s not funny. It’s nice. You crashed your Range Rover trying to save a little rabbit. I just didn’t expect Rafe Cameron to break for bunnies, it’s very cute.”

Rafe never got flustered, he practically majored in flirting, it never phased him. So why the fuck was he blushing like a little kid right now?

Get your shit together, Cameron, he thought, she’s just some girl.

“So you and Brody, y’all sleeping together or...?”

Your laughter stopped dead in its tracks, head snapping towards him as your jaw slammed shut.

Pointedly not answering him, you grabbed your Coke from the cupholder and took a long sip.

“Is that a yes?” he continued. 

“Not that it’s any of your business,” you cut him off, fiddling with the straw, “but no, we’re just old friends.”

Long gone was the playful air of the bunny story. Unable to recover and get a positive reaction from you, he figured he might as well dig himself deeper. In for a penny…

“But, c’mon, you’re saying you two have seriously never…”

“Ew no, he’s literally like my brother,” you shut him down. “Why do you care so much? You jealous?”

Fuck, he hadn’t meant to give you the upper ground, he needed to level the field. 

“You just seemed pretty upset when you found out he wasn’t coming is all. Like, I dunno, a woman scorned and all that…”

“Have you considered it’s because I realized I was gonna be stuck in a car alone with you for eight hours?”

Thoroughly pissed off, you sank down in your seat and continued sipping your Coke, avoiding looking at him by counting the mile markers on the side of the highway. 

Rafe looked over at you, taking in the flex of your jaw as you stewed. He usually didn’t give a fuck if his words offended people. He preferred it, actually. But something about the shape of your smile and the sound of your laughter made him wish you were always happy. He felt like shit for making it go away, then he felt like shit for feeling like shit given his decision not to like you.

His eyes stayed on you for longer than they should, studying the shape of your silhouette in the soft light of the December sun. 

“Watch out!” You shrieked suddenly.

Rafe’s eyes shot forward and he realized with panic that he’d been veering off the road, the front of the car dangerously skewed in the direction of the metal guard rail. 

“Fuck!” 

He cut the wheel hard, overshooting his correction and causing the car to jerk sharply to the left. In your concern, you gripped your drink so hard the lid came off, your ice cold diet coke splashing out of the cup and all over you.

Rafe redirected the car until it was back in the correct lane, but you were already covered in diet soda. Coke dripped from your hair onto your face, your mouth hung wide open in shock and fury.

“Shit, my bad,” Rafe said, reaching in the fast food bag for some napkins.

He started dabbing it completely unhelpfully at your shoulder and you ripped the napkin from his hands.

“This is my favorite shirt, ugh what the fuck Rafe!” You scolded him, trying to use the napkins with very little luck, the shirt was definitely ruined.

“I said I’m sorry! Jesus calm down, it’s not like I did it on purpose,” he huffed at you, hating that he liked how you said his name, even when you were yelling at him.

“No of course not, you never do anything on purpose,” you quipped.

It took everything in him not to snap back with a “you don’t even fucking know me,” but he remained silent. Biting his tongue was a new taste to him, he didn’t like it, but he didn’t like the feeling of you being pissed at him either. Today was a day of firsts.

“We’re gonna have to stop so I can get a new shirt from the trunk,” you said.

Eager to return to familiar territory, he jumped at the opportunity to antagonize you, shaking his head and tsking condescendingly, “no can do, there’s no stops on the schedule for an hour.”

“Okay well this is obviously an extenuating circumstance,” you argued.

“So was me wanting to stop at that outlet mall to get presents for my family, but we didn’t stop then,” he countered.

“Right, because those things are comparable,” you scoffed. “It’s not my fault you waited until the last second to do your Christmas shopping.”

You were right, but he still resented the know-it-all tone in your accusation.

“Well I’m the driver and I say we’re sticking to the schedule,” he doubled down.

“So I’m just supposed to sit here covered in soft drink for the rest of the trip?”

“I have an old sweatshirt in my bag you can borrow,” he offered.

The urge to continue fighting with him until he agreed to pull over was strong, but the urge to get out of the cold, sticky shirt was stronger. With a sigh, you climbed into the backseat and dug through Rafe’s bag until you found a soft, worn out hoodie with a logo on the front that said “Kildare Academy Lacrosse” and on the back “Cameron #44.”

You reached down to peel off your shirt, looking up first to catch Rafe watching you through the rear view mirror. Your hands paused on the hem, giving him a steely look.

“Uh, a little privacy please?” 

His eyes continued flicking between you and the road, “I just wanna see if you found the right sweatshirt,” he claimed.

You let out an indignant tsk, mouth open in disbelief when he gave you a little wink through the mirror. You reached forward and smushed your hand into his cheek, pushing his head back toward the road. He bit his bottom lip, trying to play nonchalant as you stripped off your shirt just inches behind him. He might act like a playboy, but he did actually have enough respect not to look at you while you changed.

Still, keeping his eyes on the road meant seeing the fuzzy form of you in his peripheral vision. The general hue of your skin tone and the swift movement of you pulling your shirt over your head sucked some of the air from his usually puffed-out chest. He felt like he was twelve years old, the way just the thought of you shirtless in the backseat made his hands clammy and his heart pick up speed. He needed to get a grip.

The sweatshirt was about two sizes too big but so warm and comfortable you didn’t care. You expected it to smell like some cheap cologne or boy sweat, but instead it smelled like something sweet and inviting - fabric softener, you realized with a grin. You’d tease him for that later.

Hour five

Somewhere in the middle-of-nowhere Virginia, your gas light came on. You agreed to let him drive for another fifty miles after a quick gas station pit stop, planning to take the allotted thirty minute nap you’d mapped out on your schedule before driving the rest of the way.

Rafe paid for the gas, as promised, and stood by the car as he filled your tank. You never did get to finish your Diet Coke, so you ran inside to grab another while he pumped.

“That’ll be $2.79, dear,” the cashier told you, her southern accent and charm a tell-tale sign that you were nearing home.

With a smile, you pulled out your debit card and held it out for her to swipe.

“Sorry sweetheart, there’s a five dollar minimum for cards,” she informed you politely.

“Oh, okay,” you looked around the counter for something to add, swiping some knick-knacks from their display to round up your bill.

----❄----

The car door slammed as Rafe climbed back in next to you, balling up the receipt for the gas and tossing it into the backseat.

“How much was it?” You asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged, turning the key as the engine sputtered to life. 

You shouldn’t feel bad, he offered to pay, and you were technically the one doing him a favor. Still, you were raised by blue collar parents, ‘neither a borrower nor a lender be’ and elbow grease was gospel in your home. You felt like you needed to give him something.

“Here,” you passed him the bag of trinkets you’d bought inside.

Rafe looked in the bag with a confused grin.

“What am I supposed to do with these?” He laughed as he pulled the items out of the bag.

“You could…give them to your sisters,” you suggested.

“What are they gonna do with a Thomas Jefferson snow globe and a bumper sticker that says ‘Virginia is for Lovers’?”

“Well it’s better than a slip of paper that says ‘IOU one christmas present,’” You teased him.

“Y’know what? Very true,” he nodded, tucking the bag of goodies in the backseat and pulling out of the gas station. 

The drive was silent for a few minutes. You leaned forward, resting your arms on the dash as you watched the emerging silhouette of the Blue Ridge Mountains on the far horizon. It was all getting so close; a crackling fire, drinking hot cocoa while watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas with your brothers, decorating the tree, those gingerbread cookies…

“What are you smiling about?” Rafe’s voice interrupted your revelry.

“I’m just excited to get home and see my family,” you said with a happy smile. “Aren’t you?”

It was such a foreign concept to him he almost laughed. He was still playing the angle that he was desperate to get home to his family so you’d give him a ride. He couldn’t tell you the truth; that he wasn’t sure anyone at his house even remembered he was coming, that Christmases in the Cameron house for the last decade were more about the pictures his father could put on the cards he sent to clients than they were about celebrating, or love. 

“Uh, yeah, ‘course,” he said, hoping you’d drop it. 

You didn’t.

“Does your family have any traditions?” 

“Like what?” He knew what you meant, but his brain wasn’t working fast enough to come up with a lie, the truth sitting on his chest in the uncomfortable way he spent his life trying to avoid.

“Like, okay,” you started. “Me and my brothers always sleep in the living room on Christmas Eve. We get all the pillows and blankets in the house and make a big pile in front of the fireplace and keep the fire going all night so we can stay up to try and catch Santa.” 

“How’s he gonna come down the chimney if you keep the fire going?” Rafe questioned logically.

“Oh Rafe, I’m so sorry I have to be the one to tell you this…but Santa isn’t real,” you placed your hand on his arm like you were trying to console him. 

He let it linger for a minute before shaking you off, “you know what I meant!” he grumbled, making you laugh. The sound was so sweet it made him dizzy.

“What else do you do?” He asked impulsively, surprising both you and himself with his desire to hear you keep talking.

“Well, you know about my mom’s cookies, and we always drink cocoa with peppermint sticks, and oh! Me and my dad used to cut down a real tree together the day after Thanksgiving- I’m sure they’ve already gotten it this year since I wasn’t home- but we’d always decorate it together, just the two of us, while listening to his old Bing Crosby vinyl.”

It sounded so nice, so idyllic and comforting, like a Hallmark card. Jealousy roared in his chest, hoping you couldn’t see it on his face as he pictured the much colder, tension filled holiday that was awaiting him.

“Didn’t Bing Crosby used to hit his kids?” He blurted out coldly, the holly jolly joy in the car becoming a little too much for him to handle.

Your face soured, lips twisted as he burst your bubble. 

“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch,” you mumbled. Even when he was being an ass, you were being cute. It was killing him. “Not a Christmas guy, huh?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be napping right now?” He brushed off your question.

“I don’t know, maybe you shouldn’t drive so grumpy.”

“I’ll be fine. Your thirty minutes is slipping away, though.”

“Okay fine, but don’t forget to wake me up when we cross the state line,” you reminded him.

“I know, I know. Are you always this bossy?” He snipped, his sudden coldness making you wish you’d never opened up to him about your family to begin with.

With a final, pointed look at him, you pulled the strings of his sweatshirt to cover your eyes and sank down into the seat. 

“Bah humbug,” you threw at him before drifting off to sleep.

Almost immediately, he missed the sound of your voice. 

Hour six

In your dream, you sat alone at your kitchen table, your dad’s Bing Crosby vinyl skipped on the record player as you cried over an empty plate, not a single crumb of gingerbread left…

Hour seven

The world was moving outside the windows, the early darkness of winter making the scene blurry, but you could tell the car was definitely still moving.

And Rafe was out cold in the driver’s seat.

“Oh my god!!” 

You shot up in your seat and grabbed the wheel, sure that you were about to go flying off the road any second. But the wheel was locked, and there was no engine’s rumble shaking the dash. The car was off. 

You blinked, your groggy mind finally catching up with reality. You weren’t driving, you were floating. The choppy ocean crashing against the side of the ship spraying little droplets of water on your windshield.

“Oh my god,” you repeated with a groan, this time less panicked and more pissed.

Rafe woke up with your body stretched across his lap, gripping the wheel as you groaned.

“Hi,” he mumbled with a sleepy smile, completely misreading the situation.

You sat back in your own seat and hit him on the shoulder, hard. 

“Oww, what the hell?” He sat up, rubbing his arm.

“Where the fuck are we?” You barked at him.

“We’re in your car on the way home,” he avoided the true answer. 

“I said I’d get you to the ferry…”

“And would ya look at that? You did!” He smiled sheepishly.

With scarily accurate comedic timing, the ship’s horn blared loudly, leaving no doubt.

“Rafe, we’re on the ferry!” You yelled, smacking him again.

“Would you stop hitting me please?! We were making good time and you looked so peaceful sleeping so I figured we’d just hop the ferry real quick and you’ll still make it home by six.”

You checked the time on your phone, eyes widening with realization.

“Just barely! At this rate I’ll be walking in the door at 5:58,” you argued.

“And just think of how many cookies you can eat in two minutes if you really put your mind to it,” he grinned at you. You were having none of his boyish charm this time, back to being a card carrying member of the “I Hate Rafe Cameron” club.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled.

“Okay, well can it wait until we’re on dry land? I get seasick and I want it to be a fair fight.”

He wasn’t letting up on the flirting, and you weren’t giving in. The rest of the boat ride was painfully quiet.

----❄----

“It’s just up here on the right, that metal gate,” he assured you as he approached his home, still trying to convince you that you had plenty of time.

Headlights bounced off the high white walls of his estate as the car pulled up. Your mouth hung open in disbelief.

“What is it?” He questioned.

“I knew you were probably rich, y’know based on your whole…” you gestured vaguely to him, “...thing. But holy shit.”

He grinned, “yeah it’s alright I guess.”

“Oh whatever,” you laughed. “It’s like a fucking castle!”

With a final left turn, he pulled into Tannyhill, the giant house completely dark at the end of the long drive. Rafe’s face fell slightly as he drove up, but he pushed the disappointment down when he felt your eyes on him.

“Home sweet home,” he said, feigning holiday cheer.

He put the car in park and grabbed his stuff from the backseat. You both got out, stopping in front of the car so he could hand you the keys.

“I should change so you can have your sweatshirt back,” you said.

“Nah you can give it back to me at school, I’ve delayed your schedule long enough.”

You smiled softly, giving him a grateful nod.

It was strange, you felt like you’d known him much longer than eight hours and yet you weren’t quite friends…you weren’t enemies either, but definitely not friends. How is one supposed to say goodbye to a non-enemy/non-friend? You settled on holding out your hand to shake. Rafe just looked down at your palm, huffing a laugh at the gesture.

“Well,” you shrugged, smiling back, “Merry Christmas I guess?”

He took your hand, giving it a firm shake and a squeeze, “yeah, Merry Christmas I guess.”

With a nod, you stepped around him and got back into your car, pulling up your GPS and entering your home address. So long as the ferry was still running on schedule and there wasn’t too much traffic, you’d get home with about five minutes to spare.

You put the car in reverse and got ready to back out of the driveway. You tried to keep your eyes fixed on the rearview, but you couldn’t help but steal one last look at Rafe as he walked through his front door.

Only, he wasn’t going inside. Or maybe he couldn’t go inside? He stood at the front door shaking the handle and having a very animated conversation with someone on his phone. Something wasn’t right.

Even though you knew you shouldn’t, you cracked your window slightly to hear the phone call. His back still turned to you, Rafe didn’t notice you could hear him and kept talking, loudly…

“The Bahamas? Are you kidding me?...I can’t believe you guys just left without me...well I wasn’t and then I got a ride…this could’ve been avoided if you’d just sent the jet like I asked…since when are you concerned about that?...well what the hell am I supposed to do now?!” 

The last question was said with a raised voice, aggression seeping into his tone. He made like he was about to say something else, but was cut-off, his shoulders falling as the voice on the other end got so loud that it carried all the way to your car. You couldn’t make out the words, but whoever he was talking to was clearly shouting even louder than Rafe had just been.

“Y-yes sir…I’m sorry…yes sir…no sir…okay I will…I lo-”

The phone beeped three times and the screen went black. Rafe stared down at it for a second before slipping it in his pocket and lifting a rock close to the door, retrieving a small silver key. As he raised it to the doorknob, his eyes caught yours in the reflection of the glass.

“You should get going,” he said, turning and noticing your window cracked. “You’re gonna miss your cookies.”

Fully busted for eavesdropping, you rolled the window the rest of the way down, “did they…are they not home?”

“Nah, they decided to spend Christmas in the Bahamas,” he explained.

“Oh. So you’re just gonna be here, like, alone?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m not a Christmas guy anyway, remember?” He gave you a tight lipped smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Are-are you sure? You could…” You couldn’t quite bring yourself to say it. Were you really gonna offer for him to come home with you? You barely knew him, surely you couldn’t bring him home for Christmas. 

The offer fell dead on your lips, but Rafe knew where you were going with it, the pity in your voice a little too much for his pride.

“I’m really fine,” he said, nodding his head toward the road, “you should get back on the road. You’ve got a schedule to keep”

You gave him a soft smile as you put the car back into reverse, feeling guilty the whole way out of the driveway.

----❄----

Turning the Christmas radio station up, you tried to focus on gingerbread cookies as you waited in the long car line to get back on the ferry. 

He wasn’t your friend, in fact, he was kind of an asshole to you all day. You didn’t owe him anything. Plus, he surely wouldn’t be comfortable at your little house in the country. Not when he was used to all the flash of this island, the one his family seemingly owned based on all the signs with their name on it you passed on your short drive. No, he’d be fine. You’d get your cookies and he’d be fine.

“Ma’am,” the Ferry ticketing attendant tapped on your window to get your attention. 

You sighed deeply as you looked at the big ship, then down to your GPS, telling you there was only a minute to spare if you were gonna get home on time. 

Home. Yours, warm and full of love. His, empty and dark.

“We’ve got a schedule to keep,” the attendant urged. “Are you boarding or not?”

----❄----

The house was still dark but for one light glowing through an upstairs window.

You knocked three times, Rafe’s confused face finally appearing behind the glass. He opened the door with a questioning furrow of his brow. His bag was still packed, sitting right inside the door. You reached down to grab it, throwing it over your shoulder as you said, 

“You owe me a cookie.”

(part two)

a/n: merry everything! I had so much fun writing this! There will be 3 more parts, just a lil present from me to you <3 there will be some hurt, but mostly comfort and a stocking full of fluff!

for updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs. to be tagged, just ask in the replies or send me an ask!

taglist: @itneverendshere @rafediaries @promiscuousg1rl @eolsens @inlovewrafe

[cherrygirlfriend]

kook!reader sneaks out with bf!jj

warnings: fluff

a really quick blurb inspired by good girls by 5sos, i've been listening to them a lot lately and suddenly i'm 11 years old playing habbo with the bros again...

you're a good girl, daddy's favorite.

yet his lips on yours feel so addictive, his hands sliding up under the hem of your shirt behind the rows of books, pulling you closer.

everyone thinks you're sweet like sugar, pretty as a picture.

you have it all; a wealthy father who already planned out the next five years of your life down to the classes you'd be taking at a college he chose, one of the richest guys in town as your perfect boyfriend, an academic career to watch out for.

yet there you were, an eyeliner pencil in hand as you smudged some into your waterline, getting ready to see jj.

"if you're not more careful, you're gonna get caught." nicky piped up, scrolling on his phone on your bed.

"i know, that's what this is for." you sigh, turning to him, the boy looking at you up and down, "how do i look?"

"like a... pogue." nicky said, scrunching his nose up slightly as he took in your attire, your usual dresses and skirts replaced by a bikini top, one of jj's shirts and a pair of ripped denim shorts.

"perfect." you grin, "you remember our plan?"

"yes, don't come out of your room and if i hear your dad passing the door i'll pretend to be talking sweet nothings to you." he scoffed, "isn't it kind of weird that he lets us have sleepovers despite us 'dating'?"

"maybe he's seen you check him out." you say with a grin, "or he just hopes i baby-trap you."

"we would have a cute kid. if we end up in a lavender marriage, could we have one?"

"definitely." you said, opening your bedroom window, "tell connor i said hi."

"oh, 'hi sweetie, my girlfriend told me to say hi to you'." nicky rolled his eyes with a snort, watching as you started climbing out of your window. "tell pogue boy to bring you home at appropriate hours."

you flipped him off, before starting on your usual route out of your bedroom. and when you landed on the ground and saw him leaning against his dirt bike with his usual grin adorning his face, you couldn't help but run to him, a wide smile on your face.

jj laughed as he caught you, holding onto your waist as you kissed him, the blonde lifting you off the ground. "missed you..." he mumbled against your lips as he set you back down, his forehead connected with yours.

"i missed you too."

"ready to go?"

"where are we going?"

"somewhere we get to be alone." jj shrugged, a daring look on his eyes as you both hopped onto his bike.

your arms tightened their hold around his waist, the wind sweeping your hair back as you flew past the line between figure eight and the cut, and in that moment, it didn't matter to you that it was in the middle of the night, or that this should be the last thing you're doing with the last person you were supposed to be doing it with, all that mattered was how warm jj's body felt under your hands.

and every part of you was ecstatic when you finally got to be alone with him, to feel his hands on your body. guess good girls are just bad girls that haven't been caught.

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

Is it just me or do 2003 Leo and Raph have the best relationship out of all the iterations? It's my favorite, at least. Like they do get snappy with each other sometimes but their spats aren't nearly as often, as intense or festering as long as some others I've seen.

It was refreshing that Raph didn't challenge Leo's position as leader nearly as much. Sometimes he would challenge the decisions he made while leading but not undermine his position. He learned and mostly accepted that Leo would be a good leader in childhood and he backed him up nine times out of ten (even when Leo didn't know it: e.g. the "If Leo needs us, we're here. But let's see what this is all about." An instance of Raph pulling a Leo-type move, hanging back to recon rather than rushing in, while Leo's judgment was clouded. Learning from each other and supporting even from a distance)

How ready they are to be there for each other? How openly protective they are of each other? Like they're not as coy or begrudging or emotionally constipated as others about showing how much they care. Small gestures, big gestures, it doesn't matter. Leo's having trouble focusing on a plan because of the noise? Raph makes the noise go away. Wasn't Raph the first one who wanted to look for Leo when his morning training (getting ambushed by the Foot) ran unusually late? Or the scene where Leo's suddenly getting pulled away by an unknown magical force and he calls out to his brothers in alarm. Don cries, "Oh, no!" as he and Mikey stand there and watch; they freeze up. Raph dives headlong after him instantly.

And how they take it when they can't be there for each other? He dove headlong and he didn't actually make it in time to grab Leo's hand before he's gone. Master Splinter has to physically hold him back as he's still shouting and fighting to get to him (and then he has to be restrained again by magic when it looks like Leo's in danger in the 1v1 he was pulled to. Screw the fact that he's obviously outpowered by the almighty binding rules of the duel, he'll go kicking and screaming anyway, that's his bro!) And the scene where they're on top of a moving car, Leo loses his grip on Raph and he falls and from Leo's POV, time slows until he sees Raph land alright. Raph facing his fear ick about bugs, jumping down to defend Leo from the big boss bug with no hesitation when he sees him get stung? And of course when he cries just the once (as far as I recall) in the whole series when Leo's seriously hurt. How he makes me cry in SAINW as he crawls to Leo's side, reaches out for him, calls his name with his dying breath, his last word is his brother's name as he falls beside him, hand against his??? And that was after being estranged in that what-if future! LIKE BRO THAT SCENE MAKES ME WANT TO SCREAM

Even just the two or three lines where Leo's waxing poetic about their family, being completely sincere, and Mikey bursts out laughing and teases him for being a sap. Raph immediately tells Mikey to lay off and that Leo's got a point.

They're just so good. They have a few arguments like all siblings do but there is zero doubt that they love each other to pieces and they don't hesitate at all to show it on the regular. And outside of that estrangement timeframe where they were traumatized and grieving and in a literal apocalypse where they lost all hope, they didn't let their relationship fall apart the way some other iterations did. (Like I love 2007 but that fight on the rooftop? Where Raph could have killed him? I watch it and I can't help but think to myself, "2003 Leo and Raph would never." We saw them have a tussle on a rooftop and the moment there was a possibility he put Raph in real danger, Leo came to his senses and dropped everything to make sure he was okay. I dunno)

Asfjskjfks this is all just biased four AM rambling. The point is I love them, your honor, best/closest/healthiest R&B dynamic duo forever in my heart <3 (Natural disclaimer: I don't say any of this to crap on any of the other iterations. I like them all! I just like 2003's portrayal the most)

[aryomengrande]

aryomengrande’s 127 squad (2023 division) ᕦ(ò_ó)ᕤ

i reached my favorite milestone last year which is 127 (it’s also my angel number ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝) but hardly had time to make this. i planned to post this by january 27 (which is 1/27) but didn’t finish it on time but ig today is fine (02/07). basically, these are the characters featured in my top 1, 2, and 7 most liked posts here on tumblr last year—seishu inui taking the 1st place, kokonoi hajime in 2nd place, and kakucho in 7th place. i really enjoyed making these, so i’ll do this every year except i’ll pick the top 1, 2, and 7 most liked posts across all my platforms instead of just tumblr. all of these reference nct 127’s albums (for those who aren’t familiar, nct 127 is a subunit of the kpop group nct), and i will continue to do so to uphold the 127 tradition (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ* thank u to my 127+ followers and thank u to everyone who showed these posts a lot of love ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ stoked to see which ones place 1st, 2nd, and 7th place this year ! ৻( •̀ ᗜ •�� ৻)

more details about these pieces under the cut (bc i’m a detail whore)

the album reference for inupi is neozone (n ver.). i changed the yellow into a warmer tone that’s closer to toman’s golden yellow.

i switched the nct 127 emblem into a shape that resembles a basketball bc inupi’s special skill is ball games. i also changed it to the 1st album (instead of 2nd album) to reference his top spot as my most liked post last year.

the member i used for reference for inupi and koko is lee taeyong bc ‘yong’ in korean means ‘dragon’ and both inupi and koko are part of black dragons. inupi’s drip is taeyong’s drip in nct 127’s single ‘kick it’ from the neozone album.

the album reference for koko is sticker (sticker ver.). i also changed the album order from 3rd album to 2nd album to reference him being second to inupi as the most liked post here on tumblr. i picked sticker for koko bc bro rly stuck w inupi through thick and thin. like a stickaaa stickaaa *insert whistle tones* lmao

the numbers in the barcode are the number of likes he got from each platform—215 upvotes from reddit, 269 likes from tiktok, 577 likes on tumblr, 2.2k likes on twitter/x, a total of 3261 likes.

and finally, the album reference for kakucho is fact check (storage ver.). kakucho my beloved, the brawler, is canonically a prodigy who can even go up against the invincible mikey. don’t believe me? check the facts go check that!! (¬◾_◾) i also changed the album order from 5th album to 7th album in line with kakucho being featured in my top 7 most liked post here.

the reference for kakucho is jung jaehyun in ‘fact check’; his drip kinda resembles kaku’s tenjiku’s uniform, the pants specifically.

i switched the vault safe door into a metallic yin yang to reference tenjiku’s emblem and i also like that the storage version of fact check is grey, which is his image color! ⋆˙⟡♡

[sixosix]

nishinoya yuu loves his teammates.

he adores shouyou, yamaguchi, and kageyama. (tsukishima is only slowly growing on him.) point is, he loves his junior teammates dearly, and would gladly win and lose every tournament if it means just being with them.

but right now? it almost doesn’t feel that way.

you shift nervously, hoping hinata wouldn’t turn around and see the almost poisonous glare nishinoya is drilling on the back of his head. you can see the smoke coming from his ears.

“um.” you feel sweat trickle down the side of your face on hinata’s behalf. “hinata-kun…”

“huh?” says hinata, so painfully oblivious. he tilts his head, asking, “is that a no? it’s okay if you don’t know how to, i can teach you!”

someone gasps from the sidelines.

an unreadable look passes over nishinoya’s face. you almost laugh at how much he’s resembling a disgruntled kitten.

“i know how to, hinata-kun, it’s just that—”

“shouyou,” says nishinoya sternly, a shadow cast across his face, “please stop flirting with the love of my life.”

hinata’s face drains of color so fast you almost reach out in case he faints right then and there. “nishinoya-senpai!” he cries, horrified, “is it against the—the bro… bro… conduct…? contract?”

“the bro code,” yamaguchi helpfully supplies.

“the bro code!” hinata continues. “is it against the bro code to teach someone’s significant other volleyball?”

“it is very intimate,” tanaka agrees, nodding. “i wouldn’t cross that line even on those damn city boys!”

“since when was there a bro code?” sugawara wonders.

“what’s a bro code?” kageyama looks lost, and a little miffed he’s missing out on what seems to be another rule about volleyball he doesn’t know.

“because!” nishinoya yells, catching the attention of just about everyone in the court. “because i don’t want any of you wooing y/n-chan! only i get to look cool in front of y/n, okay? not even you, shouyou.”

hinata nods, taking his mistake seriously.

“yuu,” you laugh, exasperated and hopelessly fond, “there’s no need for all that. only you look the coolest in my eyes.”

nishinoya freezes, jaw hanging wide open. it is impossible, realistically, but everyone watches in awe as an arrow in the shape of a heart strikes him right on his chest.

“y-y/n…” he sobs, sprinting over to you until you’re tackled. but you’re too used to his antics so you just hold him up awkwardly, unfazed. “i love you! would you really let me teach you volleyball?”

this seems extremely important for nishinoya, so you play along and pretend to consider it. “hmm, i don’t know,” you muse, and nishinoya holds his breath. “are you a good teacher?”

“he is!” tanaka agrees immediately, the number one wingman.

“nishinoya-senpai is the best teacher!” and hinata means it, too. “you’re so lucky, y/n-san!”

“i’m touched to have this honor, then,” you laugh. 

“i love you guys! i’m treating you ice cream tomorrow!” nishinoya continues sobbing and preening from the praise. he turns to you, pointing with a finger. “i’m not going to make you regret choosing me!”

you find it sweet that nishinoya is more than happy to let you in on his favorite sport. he seems overjoyed of the thought of you and volleyball combined. “of course, yuu. i’m looking forward to it.”

this is so stupid HAHAHA i swear it’s like i forgot how to write anymore. i didnt even want to do my fancy format bc i cant think of a title for this

is this a good time to post? no. am i gonna do it anyway so i can slowly make my way back to the algorithm before posting longer fics even though this’ll flop? absolutely yes.

[bby-blu-swirll]

" i know that you got daddy issues, and i do too " - todoroki x reader

it's not a song fic i just have a really messed up relationship with my dad lol - i don't have a lot of direction for this, it's just a little lazy & venty,, we'll see where it goes ♡

it was one of those nights where 1-a was all tired from the long school week, but not enough to fall asleep. they happened every once in a while, and always resulted in the majority of the class hanging out together in the common area doing whatever together until they all crashed for the evening.

the open downstairs was filled with the sound of idle conversation and super smash bros, but most of everyone's attention on the ladder. it started with just the bakusquad, but once katsuki ran undefeated, almost everyone else in the class took it upon themselves to try and overthrow the king. so far, nobody was successful. ururaka came close, but to no avail. she took the defeat like a champ, though.

while most everyone huddled around the tv, yelling things like "KICK HIS ASS" and "SHUT UP YOU BASTARD I'M TRYING TO FOCUS" (yeah), there were a few who had strayed from the pack. tokoyami and shoji were over by the dining tables playing a game of chess, and kouda was reading a book on a couch off to the side, using his classmates as white noise.

and then there was you.

you were settled on top of the kitchen island, legs crossed, with one earbud in. it wasn't that you didn't want to be around your friends, you had grown slightly overstimulated and needed a moment to recollect your thoughts.

you rolled a lollipop of your favorite flavor around in your mouth, absentmindedly scrolling through pinterest. your mind was on anything but aesthetically pleasing pictures, brows furrowed as your thoughts wandered back to your family. you sighed and squeezed your phone for a moment before turning it off and setting it down next to you. you just needed to distract yourself. something more.

in that moment, one of your classmates strolled into the kitchen. you looked up at todoroki, who was holding an empty mug.

"hey," he smiled at you softly as he made his way over to the stove. "what are you still doing in here?"

"ah, iida hasn't noticed me sitting on the countertop yet." you chuckled at your own joke, feeling the smallest butterflies when he grinned back at you. "what about you?"

"just getting a refill." he said, picking up the kettle of tea momo had put on earlier (omg.) and filling his mug. "and checking on you."

"oh-" you looked up at him in surprise, cocking your head to the side slightly. "really? for why?"

"you didn't look like you were doing too well earlier." he said bluntly, leaning against the counter facing you and taking a sip of his drink.

"ah... yeah," you looked away and laughed awkwardly, playing with your rings.

"are you?"

"am i what?"

when you turned to look back at him, his expression had changed. less neutral, more... worried. compassionate.

"are you not doing well?"

you opened your mouth to say something. "i'm fine, thank you though!" was was you had always answered with. you were tired, or you were just zoning out, anything but not okay. yet the way he looked at you made you hesitate. saying you were doing just fine was so second nature, but it was almost hard to lie to him.

before you could actually answer, your phone started to buzz softly. you both turned your attention to it, reading the name in the caller id line.

"dad"

you bit your lip and furrowed your brow. it continued to vibrate in your hand a few more times, before you declined the call. you quickly set your phone down and looked straight ahead. you have no idea why, but your eyes began to water. you took a shaky deep breath, and made an attempt to spell out your thoughts, something you learned earlier in life to help keep from crying.

"y/n..." todoroki set down his mug and took a step towards you, carefully.

"hmm?" your voice was tight as you avoided eye contact, trying to keep from blinking, afraid it would push a tear out.

you took on last deep breath and spelled out one last phrase, before you felt your eyes finally dry. you sighed and put your lollipop back in your mouth, facing him with a smile like nothing had happened.

"i see."

you cocked your head to the side in confusion, watching as he pulled himself up onto the counter and sitting across from you. you pulled your knees to your chest and rested your chin atop them. he noted your look of curiosity and held out a hand to you. you hesitated for a moment before carefully placing your fingers to his palm. he shifted until he was sitting close, holding your hand in his, tracing over your bones and knuckles softly, fiddling with your rings.

"i understand, i mean. i think." his voice was low and soft. anyone standing further than a few feet away would have a hard time hearing him. "whatever your reason for ignoring that call, whyever you did it... i've got dozens of calls from my old man i never bothered to pick up."

when you looked up at him, you saw his eyes glues to your fingers tangled with his. he touched your hands so delicately, as if you were made of glass. he was so full of care. his touch, the way he looked at you, all of it. it was all so full of the most tender affection.

"you don't need to talk about it, if you don't want to. God knows it took me forever to open up to midoriya," he smiled a bit. "i just wanted you to know the offer is out there, if you need it."

you bit down on your lollipop to try and hide how big that'd made you smile. the second you opened your mouth to say something, you heard iida begin to raise his voice, something about curfew and going to bed.

both you and todoroki turned to see him coming into the kitchen, stiffening when he notices you.

"both of you should get off the counter right now! this is living space, for goodness sake! and still school property."

you chuckled and waved a hand at him, already climbing off. "alright, class rep, don't get your panties in a twist. we're going." you tossed your sucker in the bin as todoroki stepped onto the floor, too.

"good. now get some good rest tonight, we've all had a long week and you've earned it. sleep well, both of you."

"you too, iida."

you and todoroki offered him tired smiles as you made your way past him to the elevator. when you got inside, you practically collapsed against the wall with an exasperated sigh. todoroki went ahead and pushed the button for his floor, but not yours. you didn't question it, maybe he'd forgotten. so instead, you pushed yourself off the wall and moved towards the panel. your outstretched hand halted to a stop when you felt arms wrap around your torso. before you could turn, you felt todoroki's nose nuzzle into your neck. he took a deep breath that made you shiver.

"come over, to my room. we can talk. or not. i can distract you, do whatever you want. i'm not tired yet."

feeling his breath on your skin practically made your heart leap into your throat. you stood, frozen for a moment, gasping softly when his grip on you tightened ever so slightly. you wondered if he could feel your heart beating, with how close he was to your main pulse points. his lips, so close...

you leaned back into him and put your hands over his, wrapped around your waist. "yeah... me neither."

you could practically feel him smile as another small exhale of his grazed your neck, making you shiver. "i'll play with your hair if you want, play with your fingers... just hold you."

as if his words hadn't already done it, you practically melted in his hands when his lips pressed against your neck for a long second. you hummed in response, blushing furiously.

"just relax pretty girl, i promise i'll be there for you however you need me."

idk man its wtv !

i'm officially out of ideas right now, requests are open to anybody, feel free to be as specific or detailed or even vague as you like and please please please don't be shy <33

i love you sm okay bye !!

[justpuppylove]

HIII WELCOME BACKK!! WE MISSED YOU!! NOW IM GONNA NEED MORE OF THAT STEP BRO WILBUR MHM MHM 🤭

Sh~ Stepbrother Wilbur soot smut

Stepbro!WilburSoot x afab reader smut

Kinks/warnings: Stepcest [PLEASE DONT FUCK YOUR STEP-SIBLINGS OR PARENTS. I DO NOT CONDONE THIS.], degrading, begging, marking

A/N: HIIIII AND OFC :3

If you were completely honest, you didn’t like Wilbur. Your mom started dating your stepdad and after about a year he moved in, he brought Wilbur with him. Wilbur was honestly kind of a prick, he always made such snarky comments and was always teasing you. You always had to put up with him, especially on holidays and for special events. It just so happens that your mom and stepdad wanted to go on a date, and Wilbur decided to come bother you.

“What’s up dickheadddd” Wilbur says as he busts into your room. You let out a gasp and jump a bit, not expecting him to just barge in. You roll your eyes, “What is it Wilbur, don’t you have anything better to do?” Wilbur looks at you with a stupid smirk on his face. “What? Can’t I hang out with my favorite sibling?” He asks as he walks over to your bed where you’re sitting. He towers over you as he looks down. You feel a bit flustered as you look away; avoiding eye contact. He grabs your chin and makes you look at him. “You’re not blushing, are you?” He asks as he studies your face, that dumb smirk still plastered across his face. “What? No.. of course not, dumbass.” You respond as you shove your face away from his hand. “Awe you are, admit it” he says, placing his leg on the bed as he partially climbs on top of you. You feel your face heat up as he positions himself over you. You keep quiet as Wilbur grabs your face once more. “Admit it.” He says as he slightly squeezes your face. “Fine. Yes, I am.” You say as you look up at him reluctantly.

He moves himself over top of you as he moves his hand from your face to your neck. He kisses you and you feel yourself melt into his touch, you’re a bit surprised but you let it happen. His hand moves down your body and you spread your legs open, inviting him in. He smirks against your lips as he sees how needy you are. “You’re such a slut” his words ring through your ears as his hand meets with your core. You still had your shorts on but you were soaking wet. Wilbur was obviously quite surprised by this, he teases you by trailing his fingers over your shorts; making you whine. “You’ve needed me so bad hm?” He asks teasingly, all you can do is nod. “You don’t even care that I’m your stepbrother?” He asks as he slides your shorts off and takes off his shirt. You trace his muscles with your eyes, not paying attention to his questions as he unbuttons his pants. His bulge is very apparent against his boxers as he kisses your neck. He fingers once again meeting your core. He slowly pushes his fingers in, which causes you to let out a moan. You grab the back of Wilbur’s head, your fingers combing through his hair, as he leaves a hickey on your neck.

He lines himself up with your entrance, tapping his hard dick onto your pussy. He slides himself up and down your wetness as you get needier. “Please just fuck me” you say as Wilbur looks down at you. “How bad do you want it?” Wilbur says, wanting you to beg. You almost let out a scoff before realizing that would just postpone your pleasure even more, “Please~ I need you so bad. I need you to fuck me Will” you say pleadingly. Wilbur seems pleased with your response because he slowly slides into you. You let out a whine as you try to adjust to his length. “Sh~ I know baby” he says as he gives you a second to get used to him. He starts slowly moving inside of you, letting out a few groans as you clench around him. After hearing your moans he speeds up and begins slamming into you roughly. “Fuck~ Wilbur~” you moan out between whines. “Yeah? You like that?” He says as he slams into you, making the bed hit the wall. He lifts your legs up over his shoulders and grabs your hips, his nails pressing into your thighs. “Such a dirty slut~” he says, you clench around him as you hear his words. As he feels this he moves one of his hands to your clit, skillful circling it. “Please~ can I please cum~” you beg Wilbur as he continues slamming into you. “Cum for me, only I can make you feel this good.” Wilbur says, possessiveness swimming in his tone. Once you get permission you feel yourself release on Wilbur’s dick, your clit throbbing as he continues fucking you through your orgasm. “Ah~ Wilbur~” you moan out, gripping onto his wrists. His grip on you tightens more as he slams into you even harder. With a few more thrusts his seed spills out onto you.

You both pant a bit as you come down from your highs. Wilbur cleans you both up and helps you put your clothes back on. You both settle into your bed together and turn on your tv. You both watch some movies together before Wilbur gets a message from his dad. “They’re coming home..” he says, “you should do something about that.” he finishes as his eyes dart to the huge hickey on your neck. Your face heats up as you scatter to the bathroom.

[sant-riley]

[Ghost with a reader who is mentally ill/neurodivergent]

[could be considered part of gen z! teddy]

▪︎ Disclaimer/A/N: this is my personal take on Ghost and how he’d be in this scenario and my personal experiences with my mental illness. This may not line up to your experience and that’s ok! I encourage you to write your own and share it <3

~

Hot take, Ghost may at first may not be able to handle it but the people who say he would leave you alone and let you fend for yourself? Wrong. Look at that man’s home life and growing up, he knows how bad it can get and will never let you slip that far down. He loves you and he’s gonna put in effort.

Ghost isn’t a stranger to mental illness, he’s in the military and has his own that he would never admit openly. However, sprinkle in neurodivergence and he’s kinda stumped.

You infodump him alot about your interests, like a ridiculous amount but he genuinely enjoys it and finds it relaxing to see you so passionate about something.

God help the asshole who interrupts you and asks “who cares?” Bc ghost is gonna stand up quicker than anyone realizes and fucking grabs the dude by the collar and shakes him around. He is extremely protective already but any blatant disrespect??? He absolutely will not stand for it.

Stimming is fun because he lets you grab his hands and mess with his fingers, tracing your fingers across his along with tracing his tattoo. He finds it soothing and will glare at anyone who side eyes you.

He likes when you both lay in bed, with you playing with his dog tags when you lay on his chest. It’s his favorite thing in the entire world and will blush if you bring it up.

He finds himself repeating back your phrases that you take from the internet, he doesn’t even realize he’s quoting some trend bc he doesn’t use social media.

In return you start to repeat HIM and now it’s an echo chamber. Why the fuck are you developing the Manchester accent now and why does it sound so authentic-

One of the best people to be around when you’re having a depressive episode, while he won’t make you talk, he won’t let you wallow by yourself. It isn’t a strange sight for Ghost to be in your room and just sit in your proximity. He’ll hold you if you want and tell you shitty puns but if not, that’s fine.

He knows your tells and when you start to get anxious or overwhelmed and will subtly press some kind of body part of his to yours, helping you ground yourself. It’s not strange to see him sit next to you everywhere with his legs spread out, his thigh up against yours while he talks to Soap.

He doesn’t take it to heart when you start to get snappy or bitter, he acknowledges that it’s the illness and will stare at you til you’re done and then ask if you want to go somewhere.

On days where you won’t leave your bed, he’ll make sure to bring you easy meals and water to make sure you’re at least taken care of before he leaves for the gym. Kissing you on your forehead and telling you to call if you need anything.

Ghost fucking spoils you, will buy you anything your little heart desires even if you have the money yourself. Bro will go on Etsy and find things he think you’d like and will buy it for you

He doesn’t understand the obsession with these fictional characters but hey if they make you happy

Ghost is your person, the one you go to when you’re feeling good and the one you go to when you’re at your lowest and he doesn’t care which one you’re feeling, he loves being that person for you. It makes him feel loved and important in ways he hasn’t felt in a very long time, if not ever.

You apologize so often about being a burden and he’ll always gently shake you by your shoulders and will remind you that “I would not be doing this if I didn’t want to, yeah? You’re my partner. We’re a team sweetheart. You’ll never be too much for me.”

Taglist:

@devilsfoodcake22 @simon-rileys-princess  

@stupid-ninja @milkmily

@lune-la-chanson @tamayakii

@teacupcollector @sweet-as-an-angel

@perilous-pasta @ihatethisappsomuchitpains

@marsbar127xx @baddump

@hailstrum18 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @mzfandom @solarslushee @areislol

@xncasi @king-cookiex 

@palomaxaxaxa @amatchasky   @wolfyland07 @diejager  

@cluelessyasmin @sesshomaruwaifu @chaos-unchecked @kalamataolivesssss @arunasmisfortune @tbrfic

@beyondblissxoxo @uwu-i-purple-you

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 19)

au masterlist

notes: this is late and short and i apologize for that! i’ve had such a busy few days

y/ndevils00

liked by nicohischier, dawson1417, and 462,921 others

y/ndevils00 WE WON!! WE ACTUALLY WON!!

i mean… yeah, it’s cool, we won.

with the return of my absolute favorite captain (sorry Quinnifer), the devilish whores won 7-2 against the swords!

we kicked off the scoring just a minute and a half into the first with a goal from Holtzy, and almost 10 minutes later, got a goal from uncle Toffee to give us a 2-0 lead!

but that’s not all! just 4 minutes later, captain slut got his first goal back!! GO NICOLAS!!! and in true boyfriends fashion, he acquired his first goal back the same way that Jacky did; on his first game back, in the first period of the game, with a goal that had to be confirmed by officials that it was a good goal! how utterly boyfriends of them! they definitely planned that!

and to end first period, we got yet another EVEN strength goal (no power play goals yet here!) from Pally Pocket!! giving us a FOUR goal lead on those bitches from buffalo!

in second period we got yet another goal from Tyler the creator, just 2 minutes in! bringing the score to 5-1! thank you, queen! and then the rest of that period was boring af

BUT THIRD PERIOD! OH I LOVED THIRD PERIOD! we opened that period and made it our bitch with a goal from MY best friend in the whole big wide world, Dawg-son Mercer!! EVERYBODY CHEER! WOOOOO!!! (with an assist from my lovely pain in the ass, babygirl!)

AND LASTLY, WITH OUR ONE AND ONLY POWER PLAY GOAL, WE HAVE MY (hopefully) FUTURE LITTLE BROTHER, LUKEY ‘SMUSH’ HUGHES!!! LET’S GO, BABY HUGHES!! SHOW ‘EM WHAT YOU’RE MADE OF!!

i’ll see you guys on tuesday after we play the long island iced teas!

tagged holtz_10, tofff73, nicohischier, pally_18, jackhughes, dawson1417, and lhughes_06

Load more comments

john.marino97 i don’t even get my own pic tonight?

y/ndevils00 i only have so many spots Jonathan! what am i supposed to do, you didn’t score a goal! do you want me to just take someone’s pic away to fit you in?!

john.marino97 1. not my name. 2. yes

y/ndevils00 NO! stop being greedy— jesus you’re like a stray cat, i feed you love once and you never leave me alone again

john.marino97 one could argue that you’re actually the stray cat

y/ndevils00 am i the one begging for your love right now? no!

john.marino97 i could post a photo of what you’re doing right now and it would suggest otherwise…

user29 what’s she doing right now?!

lhughes_06 @/user29 john is giving her a piggyback ride throughout the empty arena because she wouldn’t leave him alone

jackhughes how tf did you get the last picture from the press box?

y/ndevils00 ✨zoom✨

jackhughes well i need you to ✨zoom✨ out and stop camera stalking me while i’m on the bench. WATCH THE GAME.

y/ndevils00 don’t tell me what to do?

jackhughes you’re right, i’m sorry for telling you to do your job

y/ndevils00 you should be. thank you!

nicohischier you called me anything but my name

y/ndevils00 obviously? do you not see my gag here Nicole?

nicohischier i see it, i hate it, i ask you to do better

y/ndevils00 HEY DON’T TAKE MY LINE!

nicohischier too late. took it. made it my own.

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes PUT YOUR BITCH ON A LEASH

jackhughes but you’re my bitch?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes take that back right now

jackhughes or what?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes or i’ll tell Sid?

jackhughes consider it unsaid 🫡

user01 NICO AND LUKE GOALS AND WE WON

user63 “bitches from buffalo” is how i’ll be referring to them now tysm

holtz_10 please leave me out of this

y/ndevils00 you’re part of the team, are you not? you’re briefly photographed and mentioned just shut up and say thank you

holtz_10 for what? you didn’t even congratulate me

john.marino97 bro, it’s not worth the fight, just say it

holtz_10 thank you?

y/ndevils00 you’re welcome, swedish meatball!

tofff73 thank you and you’re welcome, queen!

y/ndevils00 TAKE NOTES PEOPLE! THIS IS WHAT YOU DO!

dawson1417 you’ve been here for like 2 months and you already make the rest of us look bad, Toff

y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 you could NEVER look bad to me, honey bun! the others, however, could use some work

lhughes_06 i’ll be your future brother if i have any say in it

jackhughes but you DON’T have any say in it?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes that’s what YOU think

jackhughes i- what does that even mean?

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes wouldn’t you like to know

jackhughes i’m pretty sure YOU don’t even know

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes you can’t prove that (i don’t)

dawson1417 CHEERING!! WOOOO!!! YAY ME!!

y/ndevils00 alright london tipton, let’s tone it down a little before somebody thinks you’re conceited

dawson1417 you’re right, sorry, GO TEAM!

y/ndevils00 there we go!! (we can cheer for just you off insta! nobody else matters!)

dawson1417 can we go out for drinks to celebrate me?

y/ndevils00 are you buying?

dawson1417 sure?

y/ndevils00 then ABSOLUTELY!!

user87 so are we just gonna breeze past “Pally pocket” … like polly pocket?

y/ndevils00 i liked to chew on the clothes <3

jackhughes i’m concerned for your well being

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes you keep me sane 🥰

jackhughes well it’s a lot of work and i don’t think i’m doing a very good job

[spctrsgf]

laser tag

summary: first date w marc BRO I NEED HIM (i'm just a girl)

word count: 1.2k

warnings: language?? i don't think this one needs any??? crazy unheard of ik i just miss my man

a/n: me spawning every three months to drop a piece ain't cool I KNOW BUT LIFE HAS BEEN SO BUSY i miss u guys i am trying so hard to be more active :((((

Marc.

Marc Spector.

His name is Marc Spector.

His name is Marc Spector, and he is downright nervous.

His palms are sweating, this is getting embarrassing. It's just a date. All he had to do is get dressed nice, the verdict being in something that he'd found in the back of his closet. It's been ages since the last time he'd needed to suit up, in not his Moon Knight getup.

He walks back to his mirror, turning to the back to make sure all of his clothing is straightened properly for what feels like the millionth time. He runs his hand down the back of his suit, bringing himself to face front and tightens his bowtie.

This is stupid. He pulls off the tie, unbuttoning the first button of his shirt and flattening it nicely against his collarbone. A tilt of his head to the clock tells him the time: 5:45. He shakes his hands out lightly, trying to muster up some sort of confidence before he grabs his keys and makes his way out the door.

He navigates his way to the place you two had picked out, nervousness bending to excitement as he sees the flashy sign. Its effervescent light is so enticing he finds himself pumping on the gas in excitement. After parking and stepping out of his car, he sees you at the door. 

Well, that's sure to stop him in his tracks.

You're dressed up in his favorite color. You’d asked him, the night before. He snorts. What a sneaky move. Your outfit fits you perfectly, and your smile when you notice him is to die for. He feels his hands getting clammy again and his cheeks dusting as he wills his wobbly knees to move towards you.

“Hi,” he drops out, nearly breathless as he comes within talking distance. You're even more stunning up close. “You look…” You smile brightly at him, your own cheeks pink as you giggle at him. “Hey, Marc. You look,” you pat his chest, pulling at the edge of his shirt. “As well.”

He shoved your shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”

“My bad, sir.” You tease.

“Don't hit me with that,” he pushes open the door to the place, letting you walk in ahead of him. “I’m paying. Could get you a shitty gun.”

You toss your head back at him with a tilt. “Please. You know I’d still be better than you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”

You both giggle as you make your way up to the front desk, Marc buying all of the tickets and you leaving punchy lines the whole way through. Soon enough, the two of you have been suited up and are ready to play. 

You two had decided that you would be on the same team, fighting against another sweet couple who were just as determined to win. “Marc, look at his shirt,” You point towards one of the men's shirts. “It's white. What a bold move.” Marc snorts, but you're right; the shirt glows like headlights. You can't miss it. “How good do we think he is?” He whispers back.

“Either really fast or a newbie who doesn't quite know they use UV lights yet.”

He snorts. “Laser tag newbie. Who hasn't played laser tag?”

“Not everyone.” You bump his shoulder. 

“Watch the video, baby.”

“Oh, pet names,” you giggle as you face the screen with a shit eating grin. “Didn't know we were there yet.”

“We don't have to be.” Panic flashes across his face.

“No, no. I think it's sweet.”

With that, you two go silent, both blushing from the high of your banter. You make your way out into the room soon after, settling into a competitive spirit. You quickly map out your plan to tackle the other couple based on what you had seen and previous experiences with laser tag, kicking into rapidfire excitement with Marc on your heels.

The game will start in… the automated voice booms on the loudspeaker, nearly scaring you. Marc giggles at your surprise, but a sharp slap to the side quickly quiets him. 

3…

He turns his focus to you, admiring the way your brows are furrowed in concentration and your fingers flex impatiently in time with the dart of your eyes. You're locked in, solely focused on the game.

2…

Your lips curl into a slight smile. You know he's looking at you; he hasn't quite figured out that subtlety, you've gathered. It's exhilarating, confidence boosting, to have someone so blatantly admiring you. 

1…

He realizes he's staring. That’s so creepy, he scolds himself, turning forward and remaps the room in front of him. He scouts out the best hiding spots, how to get to where he needed to go, kicking into his dump of internal lunar habits.

Fight!

He's off in a flash, bounding forward in a mess of anticipation and adrenaline. He's determined to impress you, ready to rub it in– only a little– when he places first and you second. 

Oh, is he in for a shocker.

You’ll give it to him. His moves are so smooth and calculated. He moves with the agility of a cat, dipping left and right. His eyes scan for any movement, so meticulous you’d think that maybe there was a cat up in his brain, telling him what moves to make next. But he lacks one thing. In all his glory, in all his advantages, you have one thing to top him. 

Patience. 

You pause, you don't move to take the higher ground, you crouch, and you wait. You let one of the men come forth, let him think you didn't see the way he crept behind the block to your left. You let him think he won. 

He launches forward, as you had expected, triumphant in the thought that he had captured you, unbeknownst to you. You turn, shutting one eye and slamming your finger down on the trigger button.

The shot seems to go in slow motion to you and to the man. It felt like a shot out of a movie, so picturesque that you couldn't breathe through the cliche. It blips into the plastic on his chest with a blue flicker, surprising him. You can hear his confidence shatter with the ring of the buzzer.

The man turns, heading back to his base to revive himself, only turning back once to nod with a sense of respect. You tilt your head back at him, smiling. With that, you dart off towards where you see Marc, gaping at you from behind a barricade.

Your free hand cups his cheek as soon as you get close enough to touch him, bringing your face up and just a hare's breath away from his own. “How'd I do?” You murmur. He blinks helplessly at you, barely managing to conceal his groan when you pull away from him.

“C’mon, lover boy,” you turn back, ushering him forward. “We got a laser tag game to win.” He follows you without a question nor a word, a dumbstruck smile painting his face.

He definitely chose the right person.

[pouralaura]

This is like THE question of the ages but here goes. Is your Raphael capable of love? It is my understanding that devils are capable of an obsessive, manipulative, perverted version of it; but the Raphael in your fics has a particular human fallibility that is endearing, and a willingness to entertain those follies (for the sake of his favorite mouse) that I’m wondering if it’s possible that he would (accidentally) fall in love in a mortal sense, going against his fiendish nature (it would have to be a very special mouse). I’d love to hear your take on his fiend/human dichotomy. 🫶

what a fabulous question. thank you for asking! I've thought a lot about this and I always come to the same conclusion: yes, my Raphael is in fact capable of love. there is a "however" which I will get to shortly.

let me first say that I really simply do not care about canon. bro lives in my head rent-free as his own entity and does not necessarily fit DnD/BG lore in that space. that's just a disclaimer, take it as you will.

Raphael's love with my Tav (both generic and my Eris specifically) is definitely just magnetic obsession at first until they realize how hard they match each other's freak. he power plays and power plays and power plays, letting his mouse in ON HIS TERMS ALONE until it's too late and she's as much a part of him as he is of her. fwiw, Tav/Eris's love is the same as his - but his makes him more human and hers makes her less, all for better or for worse. and I think his capacity for love has so much to do with the other person in the equation, which is extremely human of him - Tav pushes him back and needles him but also worships him in her own way, taking on some of his traits the more time she spends with him. some of that is unconscious and some is fully intentional. it's all a part of the Game, which, for her, is Understanding (literally figuring out what makes him tick), while for him it's Winning (taking what he knows of her and using/manipulating it however he wants). Raphael is a narcissist and naturally loves himself most of all, but once he sees himself reflected in another person I think that unlocks a new layer of longing and deep connection within him.

I've used the lyric I won't speak of love since the beginning of writing about the two of them and it's always gonna fit. Tav/Eris knows what the feeling is on both sides, because she is 100% human and overly perceptive, intuitive, and insightful. but she is smart enough not to push that understanding onto Raphael because attempting to force him to admit what he perceives as a weakness would destroy their dynamic.

which brings me to my main point: again, yes, he is capable of love. he is even capable of unconditional love.

BUT

he will not accept that about himself, even for a moment. his love is obsessive and manipulative and perverted OF COURSE but it's also his purest emotion, which is an embarrassment. he will ignore the truth of what it is fully out of pride. if Eris pushed him to acknowledge it he would drop her in an instant and shed all remaining traces of his humanity. it's simultaneously the strongest connection he has with anyone and the thinnest tightrope of a line they could possibly walk - but they complement each other so well that they've somehow found that perfect unacknowledged balance. Eris is prideful too but understands that to maintain the status quo she MUST swallow some of her pride and allow Raphael to keep up appearances for his own sake - which is one of her major ways of showing love from her side.

he loves her purely and earnestly and deeply but he will ALWAYS love himself and his image more. some might say that means he is not capable of real love but I think the two can coexist! people are complicated!

this is fun to think about and I really hope it makes any kind of coherent sense all written out.

[pythoneon]

not to be annoying about VHS christmas carols against but i’m gonna be bc

i can’t stop thinking about something curt said in his interview with james about starkid and how you can see the seams of the production in each performance, and how it adds to the experience, and i think that’s why so many people love starkid. not only is it extremely accessible for people who can’t afford broadway tickets (which are ABSURDLY expensive without a doubt) and exposes people to the joy of performance in a palpable and fun way. its unpolished sometimes, and not every run goes PERFECTLY, but that only elevates the experience.

as a recovering theater kid who’s also a fairly new starkid & tin can bros fan, its imperfections are what drew me in. my first musical i watched (TGWDLM) is AMAZING and still my favorite, but its not perfect, and i wouldn’t have it any other way. imperfections are human, they’re fun stumbles that can be brought up later as something unique that happened at that showing and no other. it shows the seams and doesn’t take you out of it. you hear people improvise lines to make their costar laugh, you see actors try really hard not to break character, you watch someone cry ACTUAL TEARS during a solo, so engrossed that you’re drawn in with them. you become a part of this world for a moment because starkid is nothing but passion and love for their craft, and they show it through ingenuity, creativity, and craftiness.

just like curt said in that same interview, VHS christmas carols is the embodiment of all that. its a small and intimate stage (MY FAVORITES), so the line between actor and viewer is blurred. there’s parts in the digital ticket where you hear clark laugh at a few line readings, which i love so much. it’s simpler than a lot of their other stuff, band wise and set wise, but what they DO have is excellent. the VHS-shaped stage, the play button on the box lids, the CANDLES UGH. they’re all enjoying themselves, putting their entire heart and soul into each performance, and it shows. even the happy songs brought tears to my eyes. seeing that reminded me of how much i loved being in theater and the friends i made doing it.

VHS christmas carols is like a reminder that starkid isn’t just a production company making high quality musicals for us to watch, it’s also a group of dorky friends having the time of their lives on stage.

[skinbeneaththeskull]

80s Dave??? I gotchu bro.

So it's either just before or after a show, Dave's got you laid out on a table, just pounding you to his hearts content. He has a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, even sticking his fingers down your throat to gag you. All while forcing you keep your eyes on him, him slapping/spanking you everytime you break eye contact.

im actually deranged for forced eye contact<3

AHUUUJII?!?!*@&>@>×>@&@>[@*@,,@*@

when Dave starts his first show of the tour, he's running backstage to meet girls who are just really groupies to him and the band. and of course you were lucky enough to be one of them.

he's picking who he wants, scanning his selection extremely well before landing his pick on... you. how exciting, getting to fuck the front man of your favorite band.

he takes you by the waist, leading you to his own room backstage.

"what's your name, sweetheart?"

he says while pushing you on a small table, kissing up your neck.

"mh! (you say ur name idk),"

"oh yeah? that's a pretty name for a gorgeous girl."

he moves his puffy lips to yours, slipping his tongue in while he's touching all over your body, only slowly though, to see how needy you would get.

you grabbed his hands, moving over to your plush thigh, the other under your shirt and on your tit. he takes the hint, squeezing your top and sneaking his hand under your skirt.

"god, wanna use you so bad. yknow that, princess?"

he pulls away, mumbling against your neck.

"hurry up thennnn," you whined. "thought you would've fucked me the moment you saw me, mustaine-" you giggled.

"didn't wanna make you uncomfortable,"

he huffed, looking up at you with lustfilled eyes.

"but now that i know you're such a slut, maybe i'll fuck you like one."

he shrugged, getting naked before you followed his lead. you were wearing all black lace underneath, immediately catching Dave's attention.

"what?" you laugh.

"nothin, just look good."

he clearly had a bulge in his pants, it growing more as it ached.

"shit! fuck-"

he groaned, immediately flipping you over on your stomach on the table, ass in the air before ripping your panties apart like some crazy animal.

"needa be inside you-"

he groaned, pulling you up by your hips as he slapped your ass harshly before groping the skin.

"hurry.." you whined.

he groaned before shoving his fingers inside of you, already feeling how wet you were for him.

"my sluts all wet already, huh?"

he chuckled, slapping your pussy which made you jump. he pulled himself out before he lined up with your pussy, shoving it deep inside.

"fuck- feels so good.. so warm."

you were already tightening up around him, him slapping your ass again.

"i haven't even moved yet, sweetheart. it's so big, isn't it? yeah, i know baby. taking all of it like a good little whore."

the mixture of praise and degration made you feel some type of way, him starting to thrust inside of you now.

you were already being so loud, trying to grip onto the table for support.

"mmh! D-Dave!"

you whine out, him getting faster and more sloppy.

he kept letting out long groans, gripping onto your hips as he went faster, using you for his own pleasure. your moans got louder, of course it turned him on, but he didn't need everyone to know you were having the time of your life with him.

"fuck- be quiet, slut."

he grunted before shoving his palm over your mouth, putting his free hand on your back so you would arch for him.

"good girl. my personal slut, ain't ya? might take you on the road with me."

he chuckled, slapping your ass again as you had your head down, the mirror infront of you not having your face in the reflection anymore.

"did i say you could put your head down? fucking look at me."

he shoved hiss fingers inside your mouth, pulling you up by your hair to force you to look at yourself in the mirror.

"yeah.. just like that. so fuckin' gorgeous."

you couldn't get enough of him, legs shaking as you sucked around his big, calloused fingers.

the table sounded like it was about to break by how fast the other was going. of course he didn't care though.

you kept tightening around his length, muffled moans escaping your lips.

"oh fuck- gonna make me cum, baby.."

he brought a hand down to grip onto your ass, him getting faster and more rough just to reach his own orgasm.

he pulled his hand away from your mouth so he could toy with your clit, trying to make you cum first.

"D- Da--"

and just like that, you came. it was so fast, making him laugh a little.

"awh.. cumming from a few rubs?"

he teased, pulling out of you and forcing you on the floor.

"stick your tongue out,"

he groaned, jerking himself off infront of your face, soon enough showering your face in his seed.

"fuck... look at you, so messy."

he smiled sideways, wiping his cum off your cheek and shoving his thumb into your mouth.

"cmon, shows about to start."

he got his clothes on and helped you too, noticing you were wobbling a little bit.

"I'll make a bigger slut out of you after."

he smirked, fixing his hair as the two of you walked out like nothing happened.

[oliolioxenfreewrites]

OC Intro Interview with Raelin & Garrick

thank you @the-golden-comet for the tag! this is the one that was robbed from us last night, by faulty electronics (not my fault for not periodically saving... 👀💀) this was so so so much fun to write! these two are adisa's backbone. they show her that even though the darkness consumes her, she still has a bunch of light in her life...

This is a bit of a long one, but pls let me know any thoughts or reactions! Feedback is always appreciated as well 🫶🏾

Today, we have Garrick Bramwell and Raelin Vespera with us. Rick is a loyal warrior and protector, and Raelin is a fierce and guarded fighter. Both have been through immense hardship, yet they stand resilient and strong. Let’s dive into their thoughts and experiences.

The interview is a bit long, but so where the generations. I couldn't sums by

Interviewer: Welcome, Garrick and Raelin, you guys are from Syrithya, fraught with conflict and angering civilians against the tyrannical nobility. I’ll make sure to start with something light. What’s your favorite thing to do to avoid responsibility?

Rick: (smirking) Honestly, I like to disappear into the woods. It’s peaceful, and no one can find me there. There’s something about the solitude that helps me clear my mind and think about everything that’s been happening. It’s a way for me to escape the chaos, even if just for a little while.

Rae: For me, it’s a good sparring session. There’s nothing like the physical exertion to take my mind off things. Plus, it’s a productive way to avoid responsibility – I’m getting stronger and more prepared for whatever comes next. Sometimes, though, it’s just about finding a quiet spot and carving a piece of wood into something new.

Interviewer: If you could choose anyone in the world to be your sibling, who would it be?

Rick: (glancing at Rae) I think I’d choose someone like Rae. Tough, dependable. But Adisa is my sister in spirit, and that bond is stronger than anything blood could create. We’ve been through so much together, and that kind of history makes us inseparable.

Rae: I’d choose Rick, no question. He’s got your back, no matter what. But Adisa too, as weird as that would be considering… anyway, they both embody the kind of loyalty and strength I value. We’re a family forged by circumstances, and that’s sometimes stronger than anything else.

Interviewer: What is the most sublime thing you have ever eaten and why?

Rick: There was this roasted boar at a village feast once. Perfectly cooked, seasoned just right. I can still taste it. It wasn’t just the food, though; it was the sense of community, the laughter and stories shared around the fire. It’s those moments of peace that stick with you.

Rae: Freshly caught fish, grilled over an open fire. Simple but unforgettable. There’s something about the taste of food you’ve caught and prepared yourself. It’s honest and pure, a reminder of simpler times and the satisfaction of self-sufficiency.

Interviewer: What was the worst day of your life?

Rick: The night of the attack on Zyx. I lost everything. Seeing the village burn, hearing the screams, and feeling helpless I tried to save as many as I could. It was the night that changed everything, it took away my family and my sense of security.

Rae: The night my village was razed. Changed everything. I was only 15 dude, I had to grow up fast—too fast. (there's a brief pause as Raelin clears her throat) Learning to survive on my own. It was a baptism by fire, and it’s left scars that I carry with me to this day.

Interviewer: What’s your worst nightmare?

Rick: Losing those I care about and not being able to protect them. That feeling of helplessness is something I never want to experience again. It’s what drives me to keep fighting, to keep getting stronger.

Rae: I’d have to agree. But also, becoming like the people we fight against. I fear losing my humanity, bro. Like becoming a soulless husk, in the pursuit of frivolity. It’s a fine line, and it’s easy to cross without realizing it; Kirjani had no choice, she was put through a hellish experience. I don’t fault her in the slightest.

Interviewer: If a monster asked you your worst nightmare, what would you tell it and why?

Rick: I’d tell it the truth. Fear of losing loved ones. Monsters thrive on fear, and it’s best to face it head-on. Acknowledging your fears gives you power over them, rather than letting them control you.

Rae: I wouldn’t give it the satisfaction. I’d probably laugh and tell it to find someone else to scare. Giving a monster your fears is like giving it a weapon. I’d rather keep my fears to myself and use them to fuel my strength.

Interviewer: Would you give away secret information if tortured? Be honest.

Rick: (serious) I’d like to say no, but everyone has a breaking point. It’s about how long you can hold out and what you can do to protect those secrets as long as possible. I’d resist as much as I could, for as long as I could, especially if it meant protecting Adisa.

Rae: I feel the same, but I’d hold out as long as I could. Torture breaks everyone eventually, but the key is to hold out long enough to find another way out, to protect those you care about for as long as possible.

Interviewer: Who could you trust most with a secret?

Rick: Adisa. Always. We’ve been through too much together. There’s a bond there that’s unbreakable, and I know she’d protect any secret with her life.

Rae: Lena. Without a doubt. Her loyalty and friendship is unwavering, and I know she’d keep my secrets safe, just as I have always kept hers.

Interviewer: You have been caught somewhere you shouldn’t be! Quick, what is your excuse?

Rick: (laughing) I was just making sure everything was secure. Can’t be too careful. I’d try to make it seem like I was there for a reason, to avoid suspicion and buy myself some time.

Rae: I’d just say I was lost. People usually believe a lost traveler. It’s a simple excuse, but sometimes the simplest explanations are the most believable.

Interviewer: How good is your sleep schedule?

Rick: Not great. Nightmares don’t help. The past has a way of haunting you when you close your eyes, and there are always things to worry about, plans to make, and people to protect.

Rae: Nonexistent. Always on edge. Sleep is a luxury when you’re constantly on guard, but you learn to take rest when you can, even if it’s just a few minutes here and there.

Interviewer: Do you have any siblings? If so, is your relationship good?

Rick: Adisa is like a sister to me. Our bond is strong, even if it’s not by blood. We look out for each other and support each other. She’s my family.

Rae: No blood siblings, but Rick and Adisa are my chosen family. We’ve built a bond that’s just as strong, if not stronger, than any blood ties.

Interviewer: What’s the toughest time you had to endure growing up?

Rick: The transition from childhood to warrior. The training was brutal. But it was necessary. It taught me discipline, strength, and the importance of protecting those who can’t protect themselves.

Rae: Same. Learning to fend for myself after losing everything. It was a trial by fire, but it made me who I am today. Stronger, tougher, and ready for anything.

Interviewer: What’s your relationship with your family like?

Rick: My parents are gone, but the memories are good. Adisa and I are like family now. We support each other through everything, and that bond is unbreakable.

Rae: My family is gone. But Rick and Adisa fill that void. They’re my family now, and I’d do anything to protect them.

Interviewer: Do you have any hobbies? If so, what ones?

Rick: Woodworking. It’s calming. There’s something therapeutic about creating something with your hands, something tangible and lasting.

Rae: Hunting and carving wood figures. It’s a way to clear my mind and focus on something other than the battles we face. Plus, it’s practical.

Interviewer: Do you dream often? What do you dream about?

Rick: Too often. Mostly about the past. The things I’ve lost, the people I couldn’t save. But also about a better future, one where we’re free from fear and tyranny.

Rae: Same here. The past and what the future holds. Dreams can be a way to process what’s happened, but they can also be a source of hope.

Interviewer: Have you ever been in love?

Rick: (pausing, glances over at Rae without turning his head to avoid eye contact) Yes, once. But things changed. We grew apart, and now we’re just good friends. Adisa will always hold a special place in my heart, but Kirjani and I both knew it wasn’t meant to be.

Rae: (glaring at Rick) Yes. It’s complicated. Love isn’t always straightforward, and sometimes it’s about finding a balance between your feelings and your responsibilities.

Kirjani: (appearing out of the dark corner of the room where the ceiling lights casts shadow) Aww, how sweet! I didn’t know you two were such romantics. Lena is gonna be so mad at you two for holding back on her for so long? Rae, you didn't answer the question. Who's the lucky one?

Rae: (blushing slightly) Ani? This completely mysterious person; you must know... it’s someone who challenges me, who sees past my defenses. Someone who’s strong but has a gentle heart. Ani1, I mean it that’s all you’re getting out of me.

Kirjani: (smiling with all 101 torture hijinks in mind) Well, well, looks like we have a mystery on our hands. Don't worry, Rae, your secret is safe with us. For now. Her archetype is a hybrid sorceresses, lunatic and trickster. Explicitly on no

Rick: (chuckling) You know she isn't gonna let this go now, Rae.

Rae: (rolling her eyes but smiling) I know, but some things are worth keeping close to the chest.

Kirjani: (grinning) Oh, come on, Rae. We all have our secrets. But you know I’m here for you, no matter what.

Interviewer: Well, that certainly adds some intrigue... doesn't it? Let’s continue. What is your least favorite thing in the world?

Rick: Injustice. Can’t stand it. Seeing people suffer because of those in power infuriates me. It’s why I fight.

Rae: Cruelty. Especially towards the innocent. There’s no excuse for it, and it’s something I will never tolerate.

Interviewer: What is your biggest pet peeve?

Rick: People who don’t listen. When you’ve seen what we’ve seen, you know how important it is to pay attention to the details.

Rae: Hypocrisy. People who say one thing and do another. It’s infuriating.

Interviewer: Would you consider yourself different?

Rick: Definitely. My experiences have shaped me in ways I never expected. I’ve had to adapt, to become stronger, to survive. It’s made me different, but it’s also made me who I am.

Rae: Same here. Different, but stronger. My past has forged me into a fighter, someone who won’t back down.

Interviewer: How far would you go to save a loved one?

Rick: As far as it takes. No limits. I’d sacrifice anything to protect those I care about, especially Adisa.

Rae: All the way. No hesitation. Family, whether by blood or bond, is everything.

Interviewer: Would you team up with your worst enemy if it was your only option?

Rick: If it meant saving lives, yes. Sometimes you have to make tough choices for the greater good.

Rae: I would. But I’d be watching my back. Trust is hard to come by, but sometimes you don’t have a choice.

Interviewer: What is the worst insult you can give?

Rick: Calling someone a coward. It strikes at their core.

Rae: Traitor. Nothing worse than betrayal.

Interviewer: What is the nicest thing someone could say to you?

Rick: That I made a difference. Knowing that my actions had a positive impact means everything.

Rae: That I’m trusted. Trust is earned, and it’s the highest compliment.

Interviewer: Are you a jealous person?

Rick: Not really. I’ve learned that jealousy is a waste of energy.

Rae: I can be, dude! I try my best not to let it show. It’s a human emotion, but it’s better to focus on what you can control.

Interviewer: Have you ever committed a crime?

Rick: Depends on your definition of crime. I’ve broken laws to protect others, but I stand by my actions.

Rae: Same. In some eyes, yes. But it’s about survival and justice.

Interviewer: Are you neat or messy?

Rick: Neat. Can’t stand chaos. Order helps me think clearly.

Rae: A bit of both. Depends on the situation. Sometimes you need order, other times you need flexibility.

Interviewer: How do you feel about crying? Let it out or hold it in?

Rick: Hold it in. But sometimes it’s necessary. It’s a release, a way to process emotions.

Rae: Let it out. It’s healing. Holding it in only makes it worse.

Interviewer: Who do you live for? Why?

Rick: For those I care about. They’re my reason. Adisa, especially. She’s my anchor.

Rae: My chosen family. Lena is like a baby sister to me. Rick, the older brother I never wanted. (she playfully elbows him hard in the stomach causing him to wince). And of course, the beautiful and sometimes... disturbing, Kirjani Channing. They give me purpose and strength.

Interviewer: Who has betrayed you most?

Rick: The nobility. They took everything. Their betrayal is what fuels my fight.

Rae: Same. They’re the root of all my pain. Their actions have shaped my path.

Interviewer: What style of accessories do you wear? Is it willingly?

Rick: Practical stuff. Weapons, tools. It’s all about function.

Rae: I would have to agree again, practicality over fashion.

Interviewer: Thank you both for your time. This has been enlightening.

Rick: Anytime.

Rae: Thank you, this was fun. Glad to share.

Tag List! (reply, or ask to be added or removed) + anyone interested in an open tag!

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