#and because of that little bit at the end we adding the

[mewhenimanangel]

need that, hamzahthefantastic

prev pt 3*

—synopsis. hamzah invites you over to be in their new video

—warnings!: freaky uti, dry humping, undressing

notes 🫧: the fight was so tuff, i’m a die hard noob

—🐞

you parked your car outside hamzah’s house, fixing your lip gloss and zipping up your sweater before going to knock on his door.

him and martin invited you to be in one of their sims videos since mandy was on vacation and they knew you played as well.

it’s been around two weeks since you and hamzah made out in his car. since then, you’d been texting a lot more and you hung out twice with mandy and martin. though, you haven’t done anything to continue what he started.

hamzah answered the door with a grin, “come on in boi, we haven’t started playing yet. martin’s still connecting the camera and the mic” he closed the door behind you.

you felt something brush against your leg, looking down to see his cat rubbing itself on your leg. “awwww he’s so cute” you reached down to see if he’d let you pick him up.

when he did you held him in your arms and rubbed behind its ear. “which one is this?” you asked hamzah. “this is blue. red’s probably upstairs somewhere clawing at something.” he said, reaching over your arm to pet blue.

“i had to put a child lock on my fridge cause they figured out how to open it bruh” he shook his head.

you giggled looking at him with a smile.

“oh hey y/n, didn’t know you were here already. i just finished setting up the camera” martin said. “heyy” you put blue down on the floor, following martin.

“you ready to get your sims on?” he asked. “try freaking born ready” you giggled, hamzah following behind you.

you sat off to the side on the couch in hamzah’s office while they started the video. “hello everynyan-” hamzah interrupted him “dude what” “it’s like a meme like have you ever seen it? it’s like oh my gahhh” martin awkwardly repeated the video, hamzah stifling a laugh. “anyways we’re back and better than frigging ever” martin started off.

“now it has been a while-“ “definitely been a while-“ “right, a while since our regularly scheduled programming” hamzah said. “i hope you guys enjoyed the fight, we worked super hard literally for like six months”

“and you may realize we’re not in our usual spot, wanna tell them why that is?” martin said. “yes we are, we’re in my house this time because mandy’s on vacation and martin, feeling like a sad little lonely boy wanted to come over and play with me”

“yes mandy is gone. she is in spain right now because she doesn’t love me anymore. you know what they say, ‘go to spain when your lover’s a pain’. that’s why she hasn’t proposed to me yet in the big year of twenty twenty-five” martin went on. “literally nobody says that”

“but speaking of mandy, today we’re playing the sims. something we haven’t done in a long time and we need a little bit of a refresher” “yes, the sims is a girl game and since we don’t have mandy, we brought back up” hamzah added.

“yes, we obviously cannot play this game ourselves so we brought in another expert” they looked at each other before counting down from 3 and snapping their fingers. you knew they were gonna put some silly transition effect over this.

hamzah got up to get another chair for you “you good?” he asked you, making sure you were comfortable. and you nod your head before sitting between them. “hellurr. yes i am mandy’s back up today. because obviously, they don’t know what they’re doing so im taking over.”

“dude what is it with girls and the sims. only girls know how to play the sims” martin and hamzah riffed while you logged into your sims account.

“now this is your first time on here y/n, how do you feel in the presence of such greatness” martin asked. “well im honored to be on but i don’t know about ‘greatness’” you joked.

after two hours of creating sims and making them kill, cheat, fornicate, and find love, they ended the video. “banger video alert” hamzah turned the computer off. “uhh yeah that was really good if i do say so myself.” you pat yourself on the back.

the three of you lounged around hamzah’s living room for another hour after that. “are you guys hungry?” hamzah asked “i was gonna order some food” “actually i still have some packing to do for my flight tomorrow” martin sighed while playing with red. “oh shit right, i forgot” hamzah shrugged.

“i’m gonna head out now bro i’ll see you next week” he dapped hamzah up before doing the same to you. hamzah followed him out before closing the door behind him.

“i could eat” you shrugged and hamzah smiled. he pulled his phone out and ordered chick-fil-a, adding in your order.

you sat criss crossed on his couch as blue jumped into your lap, snuggling up against you and purring. “his ass definitely likes you” hamzah chuckled.

“do you want one?” he asked, coming back from his bedroom with a little jar of edibles. “sure” you reached to grab one with your nails.

hamzah grabbed one too and you tapped them together in a ‘cheers’ motion before eating them.

you soured your face and gagged “okay these are nasty oh my god” you laughed. “yeah they taste like butt but they do the job. the food should be here in like twenty minutes” he said, joining you on the couch.

you helped him review the footage from the video before he sent it to their editor. by now the edible was beginning to kick in and you were growing hungrier by the minute. his door bell rung and he got up to answer the door.

he came back holding the bags of food up with a smile on his face and plopped down onto the couch, this time much closer to you, legs and arms touching.

“fuck i’m starving. is that shit kicking in for you yet?” he asked, handing you your sandwich and fries. “oh it is” you grinned.

“have you ever had the mac and cheese?” he asked you. “no i usually go for the fries” “okay here you gotta try it.” he took some on his fork and put it in front of your mouth, paying close attention to the way your lips wrapped around the fork. “right?” he nod his head at your reaction.

“wait here, you’ve got some cheese on your mouth” he said, brushing your lip off with a napkin. “oh..oops” you giggled through your slowed words.

the two of you tore through your food, turning on family guy in the background. “that was so fucking good” you looked at him, eyes low and red.

“right…..i’m stuffed.” you slowly sipped on your milkshake. “do you ever think about what they do with the cut out pieces of fries?” you asked, just chatting. “i always wonder but they probably just throw them away.” he added.

you leaned back into the couch, cross legged, knee resting atop of hamzah’s as he put his arm on the back of the chair behind you.

he slowly rubbed your bare shoulder that peeked from under your hoodie that was falling off. you leaned your head back, resting it on his arm before looking at him.

“so, are we just never gonna talk about it again?” you addressed the elephant in the room. “hm?” he looked at you. “the kiss, are we just gonna act like it didn’t happen?”

“no of course not, i just wasn’t sure if i had made you uncomfortable so i didn’t wanna push anything again” he shrugged. “hamzah i kissed you back for a reason. i wanted it” you reassured. “and i still do” you said, looking away for a second.

he grabbed your chin, turning your face back to his before kissing you. you leaned into the kiss, rubbing your nails at the back of his neck.

the room filled with your mutual satisfied sounds, hamzah pushing his hand up under your sweater. he laid you down against the couch arm, keeping himself steady atop of you.

he slowly pulled the zip down, taking off your sweater off, you willed yourself to follow his lead, wrapping your arms around him. he broke the kiss, “you good, right?” he asked. “yeah, keep going. i want you, hamzah” you reassured. he kissed you again before lining kisses down your jawline and throat. he sucked down on your skin “wait don’t leave any hickeys” you said through a moan.

“too late” he let out a breathy laugh, making you giggle. hamzah let out a soft noise at the feeling of your nails rubbing through his hair. he slowly eased his up under your tank top, reaching up he grabbed a handful of bra. “here, hang on” you sat up, taking off your shirt and throwing it by your sweater. you fiddled with your bra clasp and eased the straps off your shoulders, letting your boobs rest.

hamzah stared at them, mouth agape. “that was a push up bra by the way, so don’t be too disappointed” you joked. “how would i be disappointed. you’re fucking hot” he pulled you atop of him and kissed you, hands firm on your ass.

he kissed down the middle of your chest before his mouth latched on. you sighed in satisfaction when he rolled his tongue.

you subconsciously grinded your hips on his, feeling him grow. “fuck” you winced. you stayed in that position for a while, dry humping each other as he kissed and sucked all over your upper body. you felt yourself getting needier by the minute. “hamzah-“ you started before being interrupted by a knocking on the door. “dude let me in, i forgot my wallet” it was martin.

you looked at hamzah before getting up. he kissed you “go to my bedroom, i’ll be there in a second” he told you and you smirked before leaving the room.

hamzah let him in “ugh thank you, i was worried you fell asleep” martin said, spotting his wallet on the side table.

hamzah looked over his shoulder realizing your shirt and bra were still thrown around on the couch. “imagine i went all the way to spain and forgot this just sitting here” martin chuckled before turning around, hamzah missing the chance to let him not to.

“oou you got chick-fil-a? anything left?” he looked inside a bag before he came face to face with your bra. he turned around, jaw dropped “dude!” he gasped and hamzah grinned.

lvryn

Liked by hamzahthefantasfic, clairedrakee and others

lvryn alright who pressed fast forward on my weekend 😂

mandys_iphone cute

user HELLO? is this a soft launch?????

ynlover omg this and how touchy they were in the sims video last month, they’re definitely dating ?)!(!;$:

— 🐞 the end

[sweetbuckybarnes]

Crossword Masters

Summary: On their way back from closing a case, Spencer realises he had finished his crossword book. Only to look over the shoulder of BAU member Y/N, and see her playing a crossword game.

809 words

After finally closing a case that took a week in Washington, the BAU were finally on the jet and were making their way back to Quantico.

Hotch was looking over his paperwork, Rossi was reading a book, Morgan had challenged Alex to a game of Poker (with gummy worms being their currency) the pair had encouraged JJ to join. Spencer was finishing his crossword, as Y/N fiddled with her phone.

Y/N had joined the team three months after the sudden death of Spencer's girlfriend Maeve, she was used to Spencer being a little bit standoffish (Alex mentioned it was something to do with her hair or some kind of facial feature she inherited from her parents).

Spencer flipped the page after he finished yet another crossword (it was something he had picked up in the past month in order to quieten his mind).

Instead of being greeted by another crossword, he met the end page and back cover of his book. Damn, it had taken him just under a week to finish this book.

He put the book down on the table and looked over at what the rest of the team was doing. Which is when he noticed the game Y/N was playing.

A crossword game.

He kept watching her as she set letters on a board, Spencer couldn't help but watch her game as points were added and deducted from her final score. How her 'opponent' must be some kind of artificial intelligence, as she completed her game with a score of 120 points to the 'opponent's 66. Spencer watched as she moved onto the next crossword she had to complete in order to unveil some kind of picture that was locked away.

Spencer looked at the crossword over her shoulder, seeing words form in front of him. Much like everything, he couldn't keep a hold of his tongue. "Sues."

Alex glanced over her shoulder at Spencer. She was getting used to Spencer. Y/N looked over at him, raising a single eyebrow and taking an earbud out of her ear. The sound of a pop hit could faintly be heard. "I'm sorry?"

That was one thing about Y/N. She was unbelievably polite. In some aspects, she could put both the British and the Canadians to shame!

Spencer points at her screen. "Indicts. Four letters, it's sues."

Y/N looked down at her phone, which showed she currently has two As, a D, a S, and a C. "Thank you, Reid."

As Y/N progressed through the game, Spencer would sometimes blurt out words for her crossword. "Netting," was one, and "amass," was another.

The two letter word in the bottom corner was bugging him. Good night. How could there be a two letter word for good night.

There is one if you were a late teenager in the early 2000s. "GN, what does that mean?"

"It's text speak. Every teenager and young adult was texting like that in the 90s and early 2000s. You're looking at one of them," Y/N held her hands up in defence.

"I wasn't."

"That's because you're an old grandpa."

Spencer was only three years older than Y/N, but she would always call him a grandpa, especially when he had a full-fledged job and his second PhD underway when she was halfway through college.

Spencer rolls his eyes at Y/N. "There is no way anyone texted like that 10 years ago."

Y/N took that as a challenge, opening her text messages and starting an empty thread (so she doesn't send a random text to someone in her contacts).

Lol, omg wuz gr8 2 c u but gtg ttyl!!!

She turned her screen to face Spencer, and it looked like his brain just broke, simply looking at it. "What is that? Is that even English?"

Y/N burst out laughing. "JJ, can you explain this to Reid?"

JJ took Y/N's phone. Not even a second later. "Laugh out loud, oh my God, great to see you, but go to go, talk to you later," she quickly receited and passed the phone back to Y/N.

"What did he mean by that?"

"Texting was in its early stages in the 90s and early 2000s, so we found a way to adapt. You could only have 160 characters, so you got creative," Y/N tells Spencer. "I once had an ex-boyfriend when I was on Spring Break from College text me J4F and a question mark," Spencer's face was still confused. "Just for fun."

"Essentially, he was asking if I was up..." Y/N trailed off. Spencer blinked. "Sex, he asked if I was awake for sex."

Spencer's eyebrows raised. "That was dating?"

"That was just for hooking up. Dating was a disaster in the 2000s. And it still is now when I think about it..."

[benz12313]

Delirium Part 3/3 - Ridoc x Reader 🌶️

{Images are not my own}

Summary: You and Ridoc have been dancing around each other for months, just on the cusp of becoming something more. All it takes is a rough week and a bit of liquor to have you become putty in his hands, and he's been dying for the chance to carry you to his bed. [Takes place during Iron Flame]

Warnings: morning after/aftercare, some angst, fluff, happy ending, Ridoc being a sweetheart, nothing particularly explicit, swearing

Part 1/3 - Part 2/3

Authors Note: This final part made my heart ache writing it, but honestly? I absolutely love how it came out. Thanks for showing this mini-series some love! Now that it's over let me know if you'd like to be added to either of my other taglists. I've got two; All Ridoc Fics and my ongoing fic, Surface Tension's. Either message me or comment! Thank you again, it's nice to have my writing shown some love! :)

Word Count: 2,606

Ridoc’s POV

My body ached, and I nearly groaned and stretched, until I felt the weight resting on my arm. Memories from last night crashed through me, blurry and confused due to the alcohol, but when I opened my eyes to confirm them I froze. Y/N was here. She was really fucking here. Looking divine and sleeping like the dead, makeup smeared over her face and my pillows, and head resting peacefully on my arm while she was huddled in the sheets. Good thing too, because there were scattered piles of fucking snow around the room, letting me know just how thoroughly I’d lost my control last night. 

You know… Aotrom’s voice rang through my head, teasing and I fought back a groan at whatever smart-ass statement he was about to make.

“Not now Aotrom.” I snapped and he chuffed, but for once quieted as he felt my quickly rising panic.  

Not because I regretted anything. Fuck no, I would never regret a single thing about what happened last night. But I knew she would. She was the one who’d run away every time things got too real. She was the one who’d be eye-fucking me one minute and then reminding me, painfully, the next minute that we were just friends. Friends who had now crossed that line and…fuck, just how many marks did I leave on the poor girl? 

My eyes washed over her after lifting the sheets gently, and guilt consumed me. Bruises on her hips and ass in the shape of fingertips, bite marks on the top of her perfect fucking breasts and along her neck, hickies covering her from her neck down to her thighs. And gods, her collarbone was deep fucking purple where I remember making my claim on her last night. A moment of particularly eager loss of control where all I could fucking cling to was the thought of making her mine.  

Well fuck. 

I let out a breathy sigh, and gently pulled my arm from beneath her. She didn’t even stir. My heart ached. Sure, I liked fooling around as much as the next rider. Being always on the cusp of death made one eager to enjoy what life they did have, but this was different.

She was different.

I would gladly give it all up for her, to be able to call her mine. To hold her, love her, absolutely fucking worship her like the goddamn princess she is. One more glance over and I decided. If she was gonna run from me anyway, I would at least make sure she was taken care of first.

It was gonna take a little field trip first though. Let’s just hope he was awake. 

Y/N's POV

My muscles ached, my head pounded, everything outside the blankets was freezing, I felt oddly empty, and unconsciousness pulled at me to stay under in it’s tight embrace. Warmth ran along my hips, trying to coax me awake, but I grumbled into the pillows and snuggled deeper, the scent of the unfamiliar bedding soothing me. 

I don’t care who’s bed I was in. They could fucking wait for me to be ready to wake up. 

I don’t know how long I had fallen back into unconsciousness, probably seconds, but when I awoke, warmth and wetness was running along my aching core and I halfheartedly swatted it away. 

“Ngh.” I whined, barely there. 

“Princess, gotta let me clean you up okay?” A soothing voice muttered, carefully being quiet. Voice barely above a husky whisper, mindful of my hangover.

I knew that voice. Shit..I fucking know that voice, much too well. My eyes flew open, luckily the room was dark so I could see without adjusting, but I found him immediately. Ridoc. 

Shit.

Shit.

SHIT. 

He grinned sheepishly up at me, where he was sitting on the end of the bed, wet rag in hand, and cleaning up between my thighs. The events from last night crashed through me, overwhelming me.

How did I actually let this happen? Even with the alcohol?

Fantasies are one thing, fantasies are safe. Fantasies don’t throw wrenches into friendships and throw the easy dynamic of our squad to the fucking wind. Tears pricked my vision, emotion overwhelming me and Ridoc cursed. 

“Shit, Y/N, are you hurt?” I met his panicked gaze and my heart ached. I was full on sobbing now, everything too much. I couldn’t even tell him that no, my body ached (deliciously) but I wasn’t hurt. I’d just ruined fucking everything. No big deal right? I shook my head as that’s all I could manage.

“Hey? Hey? Okay.” He threw the rag to the side before scooping me up and pulling me onto his lap. “I’ve got you. Just let it out. I’m here.” He cradled me tightly, my face buried in his bare chest as I sobbed. His hand threaded through my hair, holding me secure and his other arm wrapped around my back, cradling me gently. I flashed back to how he’d held me last night, just like this, like something breakable as he’d pounded into me. I sobbed harder. 

“I…ruined….everything!” I wailed and he stiffened, but then continued running his fingers along my scalp. 

“No. Princess, shh. Nothing is ruined.” He whispered, voice gentle, and so sure of himself that I had to pull back and examine his face. He was carefully neutral, and so serious that it threw me off, making me stop sobbing immediately. Not a hint of a smirk or playfulness. Nothing. 

I’d only seen him this serious one other time. When we learned that Violet had been lying to us and keeping secrets. He’d been so hurt that she hadn’t trusted us. He ranted for days about it when it was just us. 

“Yes it is-“ I tried and he shook his head, eyes narrowing on me. 

“It’s only ruined if we let it be.” He assured, gulping as I realized he was lightly trembling. Was he…nervous? Scared? He wiped the tears off my face and sighed, like he was trying to get the weight of the world off his chest. “You can walk right out that door now and pretend that nothing happened if that’s what you want. I can handle our friends. No one will say a fucking word if that’s what you need. Just…please…don’t think you’ve ruined anything.”

I opened my mouth and closed it again. Open. Close. Open. Close. What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? Did I want to leave? 

‘…if that’s what you want?’

What the fuck did that mean? My head swam, aching, and not in a good way. 

“What…what do you want?” I asked, voice small. It was a question I’d been wanting to ask for weeks. Months if I was going to really be honest with myself. 

He froze beneath me, as still as the little animal figurines he’d make for me when he was bored. The ones made of permafrost that I’d kept safely tucked away in the back of my wardrobe, the coldest part of my room. I looked up to his face again and he was biting his lip, terror in his gaze. I realized it then.

He hadn’t expected me to ask. That much was obvious. My heart broke as I realized he’d really expected me to run. To throw what happened last night away, chalk it up to a lapse in judgement, and try to forget about it. He hadn’t predicted I’d ask him what he wanted, that I’d care enough to ask. 

But I couldn’t just throw last night away without at least asking him. Sure, it was easily the greatest sex of my life…but it was more than that too. The tender seconds, thrown in amongst intense pleasure? The way it was so mind altering, not because of what he was doing, but because it was him. The way he’d reduced me to absolute, fucking, delirium where all I could comprehend was Ridoc? No. It didn’t matter if my instinct was to run, to forget everything, to laugh it off and ignore our friends teasing until they eventually forgot about it too. 

I knew with aching clarity that I would never be able to. 

I had to stop running from him. 

I had to put myself at his mercy if I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with the constant question of what could have been. 

He was quiet, until he shook his head lightly, making my heart stop and fear clutched my throat, choking me. “I can’t…”

“I can’t tell you what I want.” His words were whispers as his thumb ran along my jaw, eyes anywhere but meeting my own. His eyes finally found the courage to meet mine and they went soft. “Don’t look at me like that.” He laughed, short and hollow, the sound suspiciously resembling my previous sobs. 

“I can’t tell you because then I’ll never be able to let you go. To let you walk away and protect your heart how you need to. I can’t tell you because then last night was real, not alcohol induced horniness. Not a mistake. Not two friends dancing over the line of being something more.” Frustration creeped into his voice and I clung tighter to him as he fucking glared at me now. “I can’t tell you because I know with fucking certainty that you’re gonna decide to throw me away like everyone else does. And if I let myself be vulnerable for a fucking second it will destroy me Y/N. You will destroy me. So no, I won’t tell you what I want. I’ll wait for you to tell me what it is you want and do whatever I need to with whatever you give me.” 

My heart raced at the painful truth in his words. The following words left my mouth with aching certainty before I could even think them. 

“I want you Ridoc Gamlyn.” He froze, the anger that had crept up gone, and his mouth fell open in shock. I continued, “I can’t pretend. I’m sorry but I can’t. I just…I’m sorry for crying…for scaring you…I just, I woke up and I remembered and I thought that you’d hate me for what we’d done. Or that I’d let feelings get involved and I’d have to watch you just…I don’t know…move to the next pretty face…and I’d have to bitterly watch and pretend to be happy for you…and it would just ruin everything with the squad…and fuck this is all hurting my head too much Ridoc.” Fresh tears streamed down my cheeks and Ridoc sighed. 

A small smile creeped on his face as he wiped away my tears again. “I knew you liked me.” Then his grin was teasing, and my heart lurched.

My Ridoc was back, sitting underneath me, quickly beginning to grin like a fool. Eyes drinking me in so warmly that I had to hide my face in his chest to cover the heat creeping up my cheeks. I squealed in surprise when he suddenly lifted me, and erupted in giggles when he gently plopped me back down on his pillows. 

“Ridocccc.” I groaned, shooting him heatless daggers as he went back to where he’d been between my legs when I’d first woken up. He laughed and picked up a small tub of what looked like some sort of tincture. In fact he had a few different unlabeled containers piled to the side on his bed as well as a fresh set of sweatpants that I recognized as my own. “What are you doing?”

“Taking care of you Princess. After care is important, I know it’s a little…delayed…but I’m still a gentlemen.” He flashed me a grin, before gently tossing a water canister next to me, within reach. “And I feel a little bad, I was a little…eager…to finally get my hands on you.” 

“I remember.” I giggled and he laughed, gesturing with a nod and an absent hand wave to look at myself. I did, my eyes widening before warmth crept between my thighs. Remembering just how good it had felt when he’d made the dozens of marks that now covered my body. My thighs clenched at the memory and he laughed, lighthearted, despite the satisfied smirk on his face. 

“You should see your neck, if you think that's bad.” He chuckled, before opening the little tub in his hands. “Drink your water. Bodhi leant me this bruise cream-“

“Bodhi? Why does Bodhi have bruise cream laying about?” I asked incredulously and his ears turned light pink. 

“Dude’s into some kinky shit…anyway-“

“Why do you know that?!” I asked and Ridoc sighed, looking anywhere but my face as he began rubbing the cream on my skin, and I couldn’t help but relax at the soothing warmth. 

“Just drink your water woman. Goddamn…too early for so many questions.” I hummed in response to his embarrassed mutters, but my throat was scratchy and water sounded amazing. 

So I sipped the water, as Ridoc gently massaged the tincture into my skin. I relished in his touch and then he was slipping a fresh pair of panties and the pants onto my hips. Then he moved upwards, straddling my waist as he applied more tincture.

We didn’t speak, didn’t really need to, as I watched him with affection in my gaze. He’d gently kiss over some marks, soothing almost as well as the tincture would. When he was finished he slipped one of his own shirts over my shoulders, the fabric soft, and practically drowning me in its size. It smelled so much like him though that I couldn’t complain. 

And then he was cleaning off my makeup after grabbing another container, that I finally recognized as my cleanser. He didn’t stop there though, applying my moisturizer and spf as well, nearly bringing tears to my eyes as my chest filled with emotion. He handed me a muffin without a word; blueberry and dusted with sugar on top, my favorite, before sitting me up and beginning to gently comb through my hair. He pulled it into a haphazard ponytail before slipping out from behind me as I munched on the muffin, thankful that the churning that had begun in my stomach lessened. He then moved around me, grabbed my boots, and sank to his knees in front of me, making my heart race. 

“We going somewhere?” I asked softly and he nodded, a pout covering his lips. 

“As much as I’d like to keep you locked in here all day, doing everything that I’m now allowed to do to you…” His gaze heated for a moment before he gave me a single peck on the lips, sighing sadly, “Our friends haven’t seen us since last night, its nearly lunch hour, and you need something more than a muffin to get your energy back.” 

I whined, wanting his lips back and he chuckled, giving in and giving me one more chaste kiss before working on my boots. Slipping socks on, then tugging the boots on and deftly tying the laces. Then he was off me completely, and pulling his own shirt on, much to my dismay. 

“If we have to.” I pouted as I stood, immediately falling back down again. The ache between my thighs catching me off guard and causing Ridoc to laugh. “What did you do to me?!”

“Don’t worry Y/N,” He teased, pulling me up into his arms. “I’ve got you."

@xadenswhore @littlemissmelodie @jobroho @the-lake-is-calling - I hope I got everyone, if I missed you I'm sorry!

[iiheartarc]

MY TAKE ON THE CAITVI DISCOURSE

total wordcount: 1591

I will say that I've briefly commented on their dynamic in the past, but it was worded really badly so I feel like I need to defend my writing skills a little bit as well with this, but that's just a sidenote. 💀

I think what a lot of people are missing when people do criticise CaitVi is that they aren't necessarily hating on the ship, it's what writing choices have done to it.

I'm not even going to even say I'm a CaitVi hater, I'm not (S1 CaitVi my beloved, you deserved better), but I do think the choices that writers made this season heavily effected how audiences portrayed the ship, even including myself.

Idk I hope this insight might give some people more perspective on why CaitVi became so hated in this season, people rlly need to start looking at both sides and not taking criticism as a personal attack. It really could've been avoided too if the writers had added more time or extended the series onto a third season, but that's another issue on its own.

1. Caitlyn hits Vi

I really don't get why people are so quick to defend Caitlyn on this one, especially considering the amount of hate Vi got when she hit Powder. Are both inexcusable? Yes. But I do think that the situation is a little different when it's a fifteen year old child who had just witnessed the death of her entire family and a twenty something year old woman who took out her anger and grief on the woman she loved because she blocked her shot.

I do think that people also do ignore the immense amount of trauma that Caitlyn suffered at the hand of Jinx, but unlike when Vi 'abandoned' Powder, (again, that's a whole other conversation, we know she was not abandoned), Vi was not that direct source of anguish to Caitlyn the way Powder was to Vi. (Pls lmk if you want me to expand further on this)

Again, not excusing Vi hitting Powder, I'm pointing out the differences.

It's then also incredibly tone deaf when Caitlyn hits her on two more occasions with the same gun, the third time being played off as a joke. It really doesn't come off well, especially when Vi had been a victim of police-brutality even before the abuse she faced at the hands of the enforcers in Stillwater.

And then, even after all this, it's never addressed. It's brushed over, like Vi's entire trauma in the show, the most we get is Caitlyn brushing her hand over Vi's abdomen in the cell scene. Again, can be taken as an apology, but I think that for some very specific things (like hitting your romantic partner), verbal apologies do need to be made in order to communicate healthily and somewhat build a healthier relationship.

I don't really want to talk about the abusive implications of this, because I don't think I'm someone who can talk about it with a full understanding because that's something I've fortunately never been through, but the blatant disregard and shunning of abuse survivors when they pull up the red flags raised because of this is disgusting. In real life, or if it had even been someone else in the show, if the ship had been a heterosexual relationship, people would call Caitlyn an abuser and would be outraged that Vi had been paired with her in the end. But I digress.

1. The cell sex scene

Initially I hadn't been too bothered about this when I had first watched the episode, but when you really think about it, it shouldn't have happened. Hell, they could've had sex in Caitlyn's office and half of the criticism wouldn't have happened, the ship wouldn't be so hated and the fandom wouldn't be half as divided as it is now (from what I've seen).

First and foremost, the cell.

All I can say is wtf. It was such a poor choice it's actually unfathomable to me now. I don't know why the writers thought that it'd be a good idea for Caitlyn and Vi to have their first time in a jail cell, not only the one Jinx had been locked in, but the one Vi had herself been locked in for what we can assume to be hours. The place of her abuse should not be somewhere where the writers could possibly think would be a suitable for a victim to have such an intimate moment with her partner.

Then there's the fact that Vi had looked to have had some sort of breakdown, we see she's sh and there are literal crates in the wall from where she punched it as well as her knuckles bleeding. As soon as she sees Caitlyn, there's a parallel to when they first met, to when Vi is quite literally caged. She's clearly not in the right state of mind, and so when the scene eventually happens it inevitably comes off as wrong because Vi is incredibly emotionally vulnerable in that moment.

"But Vi initiated it!" That still doesn't make it okay. I do think that this also came with an issue of timing, but then again, as I mentioned earlier, it literally could've been in the office as they argued and it would've been recieved so much better then the cell scene was. Vi wasn't breaking down, she wasn't locked in a reminder of the abuse she faced and her sister hadn't just ran off to do goodness knows what (in Vi's POV, us as the audience know exactly what she's about to do). They could've even have it fade to black and cut to the next scene tangled in bed doing whatever they would've been doing in the cell, Vi would assumably have had time to calm down, would be having sex in a warm and safe environment, and guess what? The audience would've been even happier.

Sure there would've been criticism, but Vi could literally save a thousand babies and adopt them all and still face hate, because a lot of the hate is being directed to Vi too because of the situation with Jinx. That, again, is a whole other situation.

3. "Dirt Under Your Nails"

Again, for the love of god, there can be so many takeaways from this sentence but do not be surprised that people didn't like it. I didn't, it made me cringe horribly.

And before people throw 'media literacy is dead', this whole post (practically essay), is analysing a piece of media that I love. To be literate, you can draw different interpretations and conclusions and that's exactly what I'm doing. It's like saying literacy is dead if two people were to disagree on what the meaning of Macbeth's quote 'I am in blood' meant.

I digress.

I think the main issue here is the class difference between Vi and Cait. Caitlyn is from the aristocracy, a direct heir to a position of power in Piltover, while Vi is lower class, effected indefinitely by growing up in poverty. Even though she grew up as Vander's kid, they were still 'scraping for scraps'. The wealth margin between the two is almost immeasurable, and with the difference in money comes a difference in experiences, as we - the audiences - know.

It especially comes off wrong considering the class tensions and political themes heavily focussed on within the first season. The conflict between Piltover and Zaun, the abuse of power and exploitation of Zaunites by both topside and the chembarons, the prevalence of police brutality on the streets of the Undercity. Again, Vi is someone who is directly effected by this, while Caitlyn came into this blissfully naïve. She did learn yes, and in s1 she was so determined to help, but when then this progress reverts into her calling zaunites 'animals' and using the grey as a weapon, it again makes Vi's words feel uncomfortable.

Again, I think this was a massive timing issue, I would've love to see Caitlyn succumb fully to a villain arc. It would've been so interesting to delve into.

I think Vi has always had the image of herself that she'll always be viewed as less by Piltover, that she herself views herself as less. She says it herself to Vander in s1 ep2 while they're on the bridge, "I grew up knowing I'm less than them." So when she then says as her final words in the show, "I'm the dirt under your nails" obviously, that's going to come across as tacky.

People are free to think of romantic connotations for this, I won't stop you, but when you think about how the show was so focussed on class tensions, police brutality, oppression and exploitation, it doesn't come off right. Idk, that's what got me so interested with the show in the first place, the way these themes were explored so deeply but subtly in a way that didn't feel forced, so Vi's words really rubbed me the wrong way.

Conclusion

So I hope everyone that read somewhat gets where I'm coming from, this was my attempt to try and explain what I think needed to be, badly. Again, you can like the ship, I'm not saying I don't, but it also needs to be acknowledged that there is so many things that could've been worked on properly, done properly or addressed properly, and ignoring criticism won't help these issues to be fixed in the future.

Feel free to ask any questions and thanks for reading this long ass rant :)

[dr-spectre]

Hello!! I just had the sudden urge to rewrite Side Order, and i dont know if it was from you but i once saw a post about an antagonistic Marina being an interesting concept... but I do know you like Marina a fair bit so I was wondering, what would be a good way to go about it?

And I mean an ACTUAL antagonist Marina. Not Order controlling her one way or another.

I would also like to try doing something with Side Order's creepy vibe we got from the trailer...

"Like Marina a fair bit." Oh buddy, oh friend, it's more that just a fair bit....

I was actually gonna make a post about something similar like this, but since you brought it up, I'll just go ahead and explain some of my ideas.

It has been hinted at and shown to us that Marina has a strong urge to maintain order and keep the newfound happiness she now has in her life.

So what if this desire.... corrupts her? What if she becomes so stressed out and anxious that she descends into being an antagonist hellbent on making the perfect world? All born by her troubled upbringing in the Octarian domes and trying to make sure her life remains happy and safe. And for her Pearlie to be safe.

The dev diaries as well as Pearl's dialogue at the beginning of Side Order tell us that Marina after the Final Fest has been under a lot of stress due to balancing so many things and is suffering burnout.

Also Pearl and Marina do fight over music and this could have added to Marina's stress as well.

I think going about rewriting Marina Agitando is by showing Marina's stresses more clearly so that people can pick up on her motivation more. Also changing Marina Agitando to where Marina puts on the Controller VM willingly and instead of Order just possessing her body like a ghost, instead it allows Marina to communicate with Order and oversee the memverse as a whole. However because of Order's programming, they are more of a manipulative force, whispering and guiding Marina to what they want due to their goal of wanting a world under total order and "happiness." No stupid fucking "brainwashing" or "mind control" bullshit here. We doing something different. Order is just giving Marina a little push in a certain direction and Marina is going along with it because she's under a ton of stress and wants her life to be safe and happy, no matter the cost or how anyone else feels....

The developers did say in an interview that they wanted to tell a story about Marina getting lost in a machine of her own making and sadly Side Order doesn't really explore it all too well due to the short appearance of Marina Agitando.

All you gotta do to fix it is extend her runtime!! Make Marina Agitando a tutorial boss, but instead of you getting her out of there, you fail to reason to Marina and she kicks you out of the spire and it grows in size. And then you gotta go back up 30 floors while learning about why Marina is doing what she is doing and eventually learning about the ai Order. The final boss could be Marina Agitando and Pearl trying to reason with her and eventually break through Marina's anxieties and doubts. Marina breaks out of the Controller VM and Order turns into Overlorder and becomes the true antagonist in the end, feeling betrayed and hurt by their creator abandoning them.

Anyways. Those were my ideas. Much like Callie i do care a lot about Marina and thankfully Marina Agitando doesn't piss me off as much as what they did to Callie in Splatoon 2. But there's still a LOT of missed potential with an antagonistic Marina.

So yeah. Hopefully that helped your rewrite in some way. Hopefully.

[fourtyforever]

I knowwwww I'm supposed to be working on emergency care but I have the absolute brain worms for the ballet au from opening night so here's 3.5k of ballet max verstappen being the bane of ballet nico rosberg's existence

---

The worst year of Nico’s professional ballet career was also the same year they moved that prodigious blonde freak up from the junior company, which in hindsight might have had something to do with it. 

He showed up to the first rehearsal of the season in his uniform shirt and black tights from the junior company, even though company dancers were allowed to wear anything they wanted, and he stood ram-rod straight at the barre while the rest of the company lounged around waiting for class to start. He had the ugliest haircut Nico had ever seen, but he was good--good enough that Nico understood why they brought him up early, even though he knew that must have sucked big time for the other dancers in the junior company who were his age. 

It hadn’t really registered to Nico, because there had been bigger things on his mind. Things that spent the whole class on the opposite side of the studio from him, looking, frankly, upsettingly good in a loose tank top with the arm holes cut even wider to show off the muscle he had built at that summer intensive in Brazil. Lewis avoided eye contact with Nico, and Nico did the same, but it was a little impossible not to look. Their last season hadn’t ended well, and it didn’t feel like time apart had healed any wounds. Still, Nico didn’t really have attention left over to pay to the new kid until Seb mentioned him after class.

“That boy’s going to give us all a run for our money this year,” he said, following Nico out of the studio to the dressing room. The kid in question was still gathering up his things just out of earshot, totally oblivious to the conversation about him going on just a few good steps away. “Are you worried?”

“No,” said Nico, very confidently, which turned out to be a mistake. “There’s always new dancers. He doesn’t seem that special.”

“He’s good,” grunted Kimi. 

Seb nodded. “I can see why he got moved up on his own.” He looked over at Nico out of the corner of his eye as Nico tried his best to ignore him. “Do you think Lewis is worried?”

Nico shouldered open the door to the dressing room, trying to let it close in Seb’s face. It didn’t work. “I don’t think any of us need to be worried about some moderately good teenager,” he said as Kimi and Seb pushed through the door behind him.

“You’re talking about Max?” asked Daniel. Like usual, he was butt-naked in the middle of the dressing room, forcing Nico to make very pointed eye contact. “He’s pretty good, isn’t he?”

“Someone ought to take him under their wing,” said Seb, elbowing Daniel in the ribs.

Nico scoffed. “Nobody ‘took us under their wing’ when we were starting out, and we turned out fine,” said Nico. 

“Michael,” said Kimi, simply. 

“Yeah, you’re really gonna sit here and say Schumi meant nothing to you?” added Seb, and Nico had to acquiesce. But it had been years since Michael retired, and these days he didn’t feel all that advantaged by the older dancer’s mentorship. 

“We also didn’t get moved up to the company by ourselves out of nowhere,” said Daniel. He looked thoughtfully back at the door that neither Max nor Lewis had come through yet, dick still out for all the world to see. “Must be tough. He could probably use a friend.”

“Save your pity for the kids that didn’t get moved up,” grumbled Nico. He had hoped to get to bitch about Lewis to Seb a little bit, who was always a good listener even though Nico knew he talked with Lewis just as much as he did with Nico. But if everyone wanted to instead focus on the new wunderkind, that was, well, whatever. Nico didn’t care.

---

Nico certainly noticed Max at their first joint mens’ class with the junior company, because it was impossible not to. The kid was a freak. Nico had always been a turner, but Max very nearly matched him when they did à la seconde turns side by side. Then he put the whole junior company and a good chunk of the senior company to shame when they did jumps across the floor, hitting the kind of split in midair that Nico usually only saw from the company ballerinas or from Lewis. His musicality was kind of shit, and his port de bras clearly needed work, but there were certainly worse things to be bad at. 

The only time he made eye contact with Lewis was when Max replaced a single pirouette with a quadruple out of nowhere, meeting and matching Lewis’s shocked face out of force of habit. He regretted it as soon as he looked, but there was a weird sort of comfort in knowing that Lewis was just as unsettled by this new guy as he was. At the beginning of last year, which felt like a lifetime ago, he would have been standing next to Lewis and whispering under his breath about how insane the new kid was. For now, though, he had to be content with stolen glances and ignoring Daniel’s appreciative whistle from behind him. 

---

At the company mixer and pizza party, Nico sat across from Lewis at the same table they always sat at since they started in the lowest level of the junior company, entirely ignoring each other. Max, of course, sat right in between them, with Seb on one side and Daniel on the other. 

“Who do you think will be the cavalier this year?” he asked, his mouth full of pepperoni pizza. He had loaded up his plate with nearly half a pizza, fucking kids and their impossible metabolism. He wasn’t about to break a nearly-a-year vegan streak for some subpar pepperoni pizza, but that didn’t stop him from feeling a little jealous. 

“It’s barely August,” said Nico, hating how Lewis looked up at the mention of the Sugar Plum cavalier role. He probably thought the part was as good as his, secure in two years of being cast in the top role while Nico was passed back and forth between Snow King and the Nutcracker prince. The Nutcracker didn’t matter as much anymore, but Nico couldn’t afford to give anything less than his full effort, not when casting for the spring performance came out barely a week after the last Nutcracker show. “It’s too early to be worrying about that.”

“Auditions are in a month,” said Max. “I want to be prepared.”

“Playing guessing games isn’t going to make you more prepared,” said Nico.

Max shrugged. “Neither is being so uptight, but we of course all have our own strategies.” 

He stuck another piece of pizza in his mouth, and Nico fought the urge to get up and slap his paper plate across the room. He had to settle for glaring at the top of the kid’s shitty hair. Lewis went back to his phone and his vegan mushroom pizza which he wasn’t even pretending to enjoy, while Seb smiled that toothy smile that meant he could sense drama unfolding and Daniel laughed like Max had told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. Pathetic. 

“You know what we all used to call him?” said Seb, a truly mischievous smile spreading across his face. 

“Nico?” said Max. “No. What?”

Nico kicked Seb under the table, but it made no difference. “Britney. Because of his pretty blonde hair.”

Honestly, Nico could not imagine what would possess Seb to tell the awful child that. His eyes lit up as Daniel giggled and even Lewis looked up at the mention of Nico’s nickname. “Britney,” Max said, the name sounding already way too comfortable on his tongue. “Like Britney Spears? I can see it.”

“I’m not doing this,” announced Nico, picking up his plate and storming off to join a random gaggle of junior company dancers at the next table over. 

---

Nico was cast as the Sugar Plum Cavalier, but he still couldn’t really enjoy rehearsals, not when Lewis was getting just as much of the praise as the Nutcracker Prince. He especially couldn’t enjoy the full-company rehearsals where he had to watch him dance, graceful and majestic as he’d always been. 

“Why do Britney and Lewis hate each other?” stage-whispered Max from behind Nico. He was doing such a bad job at being quiet that Nico almost thought it was meant for him to hear. In any case, it was enough to distract him from watching Lewis rehearse the fight scene with Fernando. 

“There’s, like, history between them,” was Daniel’s just-as-loud whispered response. History was an incredible oversimplification. Lewis had been the first friend he ever made in ballet, the only other boy in his beginning dance class when he first started out who made him feel like he might actually belong there. They had been each others’ rock moving up through the dance school and then the company, the only constant in the chaos of that world. He had been Nico’s first crush, the first person to know he was gay, his first kiss, first everything. 

Not that any of that mattered now. 

“What kind of history?” whispered Max. “Were they, like..?”

Nico couldn’t see what kind of gesture Max did to finish that sentence, but he could guess what it was based on Daniel’s barely muffled laugh. “Uh, yeah,” said Daniel. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“Oh,” said Max. “Well, that is very stupid, then. What, did they just break up and now they can’t talk to one another?”

Nico wanted to turn around and give the shit child a piece of his mind before he realized that the absolute last thing he wanted was for either of them to know he had been listening in. “I guess it was a little more complicated than that,” said Daniel, at least doing the bare minimum of coming to Nico’s defense. “But hey, I guess that’s what you get for dating a fellow dancer.”

Maybe he was right, Nico thought. Maybe it was a doomed idea from the start. Maybe that was something Nico should have realized when Lewis had reached for his hand that first time and Nico had taken it, that this would hurt them in the long run. It made something wrench in his chest to think that, something small and bruised and soft but still alive no matter how hard he tried to squash it, that cried out that what he and Lewis had had to have meant something. But it was hard to believe that now, when they could barely look at one another. 

“I think they might just be stupid,” whispered Max. “There’s nothing wrong with dating a fellow dancer if you’re not stupid.”

Incredible. Nico had to close his eyes and count to ten to keep himself from punting that blonde bastard straight across the studio. The Coffee Princes dance that Max and Daniel were both in could not come soon enough, he thought.

---

It was nice that the studio tended to hire the same handful of guest choreographers every year. The jockeying for their favor was always a little less pronounced when everyone knew who they would pick as their favorites. 

However, that meant that everyone--Nico included--was completely fucking blindsided when Horner picked Max out of all people to have a solo in his latest contemporary piece, passing over Nico and Lewis and his former favorite Seb to put the kid in the front and center. It was completely out of nowhere. Nico had been expecting to be competing with Lewis and Daniel for the top solo in a Christian Horner piece, but not once did he imagine being overlooked in favor of fucking Max. 

He didn’t even develop an ego over it, which was kind of the worst part. Dancers that got a taste of success and then walked around like they owned the place were sure to crash and burn at the slightest provocation, and Nico would have been happy to let the terrible child wear himself out and then fade back into oblivion. But Max acted like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he was used to getting all the best roles and therefore wasn’t especially affected by this one. And the worst part was that in Horner’s position, Nico might have done the same thing. Max continued to be unreasonably, unbearably good, in a way that sometimes made Nico want to pull a Tonya Harding on him, bash in his kneecaps after class (though he’d have to do it in the rare moment where Daniel wasn’t annoyingly attached to him). The only consolation he ever got was that Lewis looked just as happy to be there as Nico was, which was not much at all.

Though sometimes Nico thought that Max was more aware of his unique position than he let on. “I really don’t know why everyone always complains about the contemporary pieces,” he said one day while they were getting changed after rehearsal. “I think this is actually a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, I bet you would,” Nico muttered. He thought he might have heard Lewis snort under his breath at that from the other side of the dressing room, but he wasn’t sure. He would obviously never look up to check. 

“What was that?” asked Max. It was impossible to tell whether he was being genuine or not, which was even more aggravating. 

“Don’t mind Britney,” said Daniel, putting an arm around Max’s back that was maybe a little bit too friendly. “He’s just jealous of you.”

Nico was going to kill them all, including Seb for telling Max that fucking nickname. He threw his shorts into his bag with a little more force than necessary. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” he sneered, aiming it more at Daniel and reveling in the sudden look of confusion that came over him before storming out, slamming the dressing room door. 

---

The spring show was Don Quixote, and for some asinine, unbelievable reason, they had decided to double cast Lewis and Nico in the role of Don Quixote, so that they had to go to all the same rehearsals and switch off every other run. Maybe they thought it would be better for the two of them to be in equal standing, but all it meant was that every single rehearsal was like reliving their falling out from start to finish. It was made so much worse by the fact that Max was cast as Basilio -- way higher of a role than anyone should expect for their first spring show. 

“You need to move forward here,” Max told him after they finished a run but before Nico could swap back out with Lewis for the next one. “Always you are in my way, and if you don’t move I might crash into you next time.”

It was a little much to deal with while Nico was still catching his breath. He still couldn’t understand why Max was never so much as winded after this much dancing. “What?” he gasped, just to give himself a little more time to breathe.

Max huffed indignantly. “When you’re finished with your solo. You need to move out of the way faster, because I’m starting my next part right behind you.”

“He’s got a point,” said Lewis, staring directly at Nico. 

Nico sneered at him. “I only have three steps before the last couple of jumps to get across the stage. I am already traveling as much as I can.” He spared a look at Lewis, looking him up and down and pointedly lingering on his legs that were shorter than Nico’s just because he knew it would hurt, twisting that particular knife. “I doubt you’ll have an easier time getting there.”

He could see that he had struck the nerve he was aiming for, Lewis’s lip curling just the smallest amount. Part of him wished it hurt more to hurt Lewis, instead of the sickening satisfaction he was left with. But there was still ground to be gained--they hadn’t yet chosen which of them would get to dance 7 shows and who would only get 6--so Nico didn’t really have sympathy to spare. All he felt was bitterness, whether he did better than Lewis or worse. The fact that they were forced to be so close together made it harder for Nico to feel anything else, the love he had for dance that brought him here almost foreign to him now. Sometimes it felt like too much, like the horrible wanting he felt--wanting to be better than Lewis, wanting to hurt him, wanting him back, wanting to prove something, wanting things to go back to the way they were--was poisoning every moment he spent in the studio. 

“Well, you need to be farther forward somehow,” said Max, putting his hands on his hips. Nico could strangle him. “Otherwise I’m going to run into you one of these times.”

“Boys,” said Toto, looking back and forth at the three of them disapprovingly. Max backed down slightly at his voice, but not very much. One of the only things Nico had to look forward to was the day that kid finally mouthed off to Toto (or god forbid, Director Wolffe herself) and got absolutely eviscerated. Nico would laugh. Lewis might laugh with him. “We only have time for one more run tonight. Max, begin your solo farther upstage. Lewis, swap with Nico.”

Max rolled his eyes, but did as Toto said. Nico didn’t meet Lewis’s eyes as he stormed back to the corner of the studio to watch the two of them dance. 

---

It was all too much. Nico needed someone to vent to. 

It couldn’t be Lewis, for obvious fucking reasons. He found Seb in one of the smaller studios, but he was busy teaching the townspeople dance to some of the junior company dancers. “Sorry, I really have to finish this,” he said. “You can complain to me in half an hour, though. Or you can go talk to Kimi?”

“Kimi’s not going to let me complain,” said Nico.

Seb laughed, and some of the dancers around him laughed too. They followed him around the studio like ducklings, and sometimes Nico was jealous that Seb had been able to move so peacefully from the studio’s top dog into more of a mentor for the younger dancers. “I think Daniel’s done, though. I just saw him going into the dressing room on my way here.”

“Perfect. Thanks,” said Nico, shutting the door to the studio and stomping off towards the mens’ dressing room. He and Daniel were okay friends, and he had a reputation as the friendliest guy in the company for a reason. He might have to leave his gripes with Max out of his rant, but that was fine when his complaints were more to do with Lewis anyway. Maybe he could even get some gossip about the kid out of him if he played his cards right. 

The studio was loud with the sounds of concurrent rehearsals going on in studios all around them, so Nico didn’t have any warning about what he was walking into until he opened the door--which was a little stuck, but the old doorknobs always opened eventually if you jimmied them the right way--and stopped dead in his tracks. Seeing Daniel Ricciardo’s bare ass in the dressing room was not even slightly out of the ordinary, but what definitely was out of the ordinary was seeing him pinning someone to the wall, pale, muscled legs wrapped tight around his waist and hands buried in his curls as he thrust upwards, his shorts discarded on the floor next to a suspiciously familiar white T-shirt and pair of black leggings. The person he was fucking against the wall of the dressing room lifted their head from his shoulder, and Nico was shocked, dismayed, and horrified to be looking into the eyes of Max fucking Verstappen. 

Daniel, at the very least, had the common courtesy to look mortified when he turned his head and shoulders around to see who had walked in on them. Max very much did not, looking almost pleased with himself as Daniel scrambled to cover both of them with his body. “Shit--fuck, sorry Brit--Nico, sorry, I thought I locked the door.”

Nico slammed the door shut. After a bit of shuffling, he heard the old lock click shut and heard a metal chair screech against the floor until it was resting in front of the doorknob, and then the sounds--which he hadn’t been able to pick out of the rest of the noise of the studio before, but which he could definitely hear now--started up again. Nico fought the urge to scream. He didn’t even have a leg to stand on to yell at Daniel, not when he had been among the small group who walked in on him blowing Lewis in a dressing room at the theater back in junior company.

Fuck this, then, he thought. He stormed back the way he came, passing Seb as he walked out of the other studio. “Don’t go in the dressing room,” he growled, picking up his ballet bag and marching straight out to his car. 

None of it really mattered, in the end. He would perform Don Quixote and prove for once and for all to Toto and to Lewis and to whoever else that he was and always would be the best dancer at this fucking studio. Then he would attend every summer audition he could find, take the first offer he was given, and get the fuck away from this place and hopefully never see Max Verstappen’s fucking face again.

---

also on ao3 

[11queensupreme11]

What's Percy like as a mother or just as a goddess in general? I keep imagining her as the same Percy we know now 🥲🥲

EDIT: i added a bit more here hehe

you're not that far off! i'm not gonna spoil what happens at the end of act 4, but if percy were to ascend, she'd pretty much have the same personality and mannerisms as what she was like when she ascended, even if a lot of time has passed. same thing with appearance tbh.

she COULD, ofc, change her appearance to look older and more mature and try to act that age, but it's just weird for her. imagine aging yourself instantly, but never actually getting to properly EXPERIENCE those years of your life. it's not like with gods who speed through their childhood and eventually stop growing, and yet can shift to whatever age they want. THAT is natural for them, but for mortals??? who's development suddenly stopped and became a weird mess? it's gonna be a surreal experience tbh

let's say..... she wants to age herself up to 21 years old. but there's an issue. what would she even look like as a 21 year old? she never got to actually GROW to that age. would she be a lil taller? would her features be sharper??? how would she behave as a 21 year old? she doesn't know that either, she never got to experience those years naturally 💔

it's gonna be pretty similar to how vampire psychology works in the twilight series (here i go again, referencing them LMAO sorry guys 😂 i liked reading and watching them when i was younger okay?!). they got a whole section in their wiki page about it: "when a human becomes a vampire, all of their natural behavior, needs and characteristics are frozen within them forever" it's gonna be SLIGHTLY like that here

obviously, she'll be more motherly because she's a mom now, but there's gonna be times where she's more like a best friend to her kids, or a little sister, or a big sister. she can't help it, that core personality she had when she ascended is the only natural thing she has left of her, she never got to actually gradually grow up and experience change and maturity in a normal way 🥲

[lightdancingwords]

Second Chances - Part Nineteen of Nineteen

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N Female reader Series Summary: A chance meeting in a grocery store brings a second chance for you and for Beau. The only thing standing in your way are your respective pasts... and a tiny little roadblock. Word Count: 4,008 Tags/Warnings: None. Just lots and lots and lots of fluff. A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

NOTE: Y’all are gonna want to kill me, but I promise you, this is not the end! In fact, I’m wrapping this part of the series and continuing it under a new series name! I haven’t decided what to call it, so I’m putting out a poll! Check it out and tell me what you think! Divider: credit to @sweetmelodygraphics

Chapter Nineteen: Almost There

The last thing Beau wanted to do that morning was get out of bed.

The room was dimly lit, early morning light just barely creeping through the curtains. Outside, the world was waking up, but inside this bedroom, everything was still, warm, and perfect.

Y/N was curled against his side, her bare skin pressed against his, her fingers tracing lazy, featherlight circles over his chest. He had one arm wrapped around her, holding her close, while his other hand rested low on her back, fingers splayed, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.

Neither of them had spoken yet.

They didn’t need to.

They were comfortable, wrapped up in each other, their bodies perfectly entangled in the best way.

Beau sighed, his lips pressing against Y/N’s hair as he murmured, “Darlin’… what if we just don’t go to work today?”

Y/N smirked against his skin. “Tempting, Sheriff.”

Beau huffed, running his fingers along her spine. “I mean, technically, you own your own alarm clock. You could set it to ‘do not disturb.’”

Y/N laughed softly, tilting her head up to press a slow, teasing kiss to his jaw. “And what about you? I think the entire department might come hunt you down if you don’t show up.”

Beau groaned dramatically. “Jenny can run things for a day.”

Y/N snorted. “She would kill you.”

Beau smirked, rolling them slightly so that Y/N was beneath him, her body stretching beneath the sheets. “You sure I can’t convince you?”

Y/N hummed, her hands trailing up his arms. “You make a very good argument…”

Beau leaned down, his lips brushing against hers. “Damn right, I do.”

Y/N sighed into the kiss, her fingers threading through his hair, her entire body softening against him.

And for a very long moment, neither of them moved.

Beau kissed her slow, deep, thoroughly, like he had all the time in the world.

Y/N let out a quiet moan against his lips, her legs wrapping around his waist. “We really should be getting up.”

Beau smirked, pressing another lingering kiss to her neck. “Mm. In a minute.”

Y/N giggled, playfully pushing at his chest. “A minute is how we end up being late, Sheriff.”

Beau sighed dramatically, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him, keeping her securely against his chest.

Y/N smirked, propping herself up on his chest, her fingers tracing along the scruff on his jaw. “Do you ever get up on time?”

Beau grinned. “Not when I’ve got this to wake up to.”

Y/N bit her lip, thoroughly enjoying herself. “I swear, you get worse the closer we get to the wedding.”

Beau chuckled, running a hand down her back. “You love it.”

Y/N laughed. “That’s not the point.”

Beau sighed, letting his head fall back against the pillows. “Fine, fine. We can be responsible.”

Y/N smirked, rolling off of him and sitting up. “Good. Because I do have work to do today.”

Beau watched her stretch, his eyes trailing slowly over her bare skin before he groaned, throwing an arm over his face. “You’re killin’ me, woman.”

Y/N laughed, reaching for her robe. “Oh, I know.”

With great reluctance, Beau finally dragged himself out of bed, stretching as he stood. “All right, let’s get this over with.”

Y/N smirked, brushing past him toward the bathroom. “Look at you, so responsible.”

Beau swatted at her playfully, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

Y/N winked before disappearing into the shower.

Beau let out a long, suffering sigh.

And with great reluctance, he accepted the fact that they had to be actual adults today.

But tonight?

Tonight, he was definitely making up for lost time.

By the time Beau arrived at the sheriff’s department, coffee in hand, he was already half checked out.

His mind wasn’t on work.

His mind was on Y/N.

On the way she had felt in his arms that morning, on the way her lips had lingered just a little longer than necessary when she kissed him goodbye, on the way she had smirked at him as she left the house—knowing exactly what she was doing to him.

It was unfair, really.

And Beau was feeling it.

Which was exactly why Jenny noticed.

She watched him as he walked in, coffee halfway to his mouth, eyes somewhere else entirely.

Jenny smirked, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. “You wanna be here, Sheriff?”

Beau paused, blinking as he looked at her. “Huh?”

Jenny snorted. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Beau sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jenny—”

Jenny smirked, pushing off the counter. “Don’t ‘Jenny’ me. I know exactly what’s goin’ on with you.”

Beau raised a brow. “Oh, do you now?”

Jenny grinned. “Oh, I do.” She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice just enough to be annoying. “Your wedding is a week and a half away. Your hot fiancée is at work. And you, my dear Sheriff, are so distracted by her that I’m amazed you even made it here this morning.”

Beau groaned, already regretting walking into the building. “Jenny, I swear—”

Jenny held up a hand, smirking. “No, no, it’s fine. You’re hopeless, and I accept that.”

Beau rolled his eyes, finally taking a sip of his coffee. “I’m not hopeless.”

Jenny arched a brow. “Oh? So if I asked you what I just said, you could repeat it?”

Beau opened his mouth—then paused.

Jenny grinned wider.

Beau sighed. “Okay. Fine.”

Jenny cackled, shaking her head. “It’s so fun seeing you like this.”

Beau muttered something under his breath, taking another long sip of his coffee.

Jenny smirked, tilting her head. “So… is it excitement? Or are you nervous?”

Beau exhaled, finally looking at her. “Jenny. I’m marrying the love of my life. What the hell would I be nervous about?”

Jenny smiled, genuinely pleased by his answer. “Damn. You really are all in, huh?”

Beau shot her a look. “Jenny. I knew I was all in from the second I met her.”

Jenny sighed dramatically. “You are so disgustingly in love, and I love it.”

Beau huffed, shaking his head. “Are you gonna tease me all week?”

Jenny grinned. “Oh, absolutely.”

Beau groaned, fully resigned to his fate.

But honestly?

He didn’t mind one bit.

Because in just a few days, Y/N was gonna be his wife.

And nothing—not even Jenny’s relentless teasing—was gonna ruin that for him.

By the time Friday rolled around, the entire department had caught wedding fever.

Beau was officially clocking out for his long-awaited vacation—the last shift before his wedding and the much-deserved honeymoon that followed.

And of course, Jenny wasn’t about to let him leave quietly.

The moment he stepped into the department that morning, he knew something was up. There was an air of mischief, the deputies all trying way too hard to look busy, Jenny’s smirk wider than usual.

Beau exhaled, giving her a pointed look. “What’d you do?”

Jenny feigned innocence, placing a hand over her chest. “Me? Why do you assume I did anything?”

Beau sighed, rubbing his temples. “Because you always do.”

And then—

The cheering started.

Beau turned just in time to see Poppernak, Morales, Jenkins, and a few other deputies coming out of the conference room, carrying a giant cake with the words “Goodbye, Bachelor Beau!” written in bold, ridiculous lettering.

Beau groaned as Jenny cackled.

The rest of the department joined in, some clapping, others whistling, and Poppernak—always the extra one—started a chant.

“One more week!”

Beau shook his head, crossing his arms. “Y’all are actin’ like I’m being sentenced to something.”

Jenny smirked. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, Sheriff—we’re happy for you.”

Poppernak nodded. “Yeah. It’s just—well, your single days are officially over.”

Beau arched a brow. “And that’s supposed to bother me?”

Jenkins grinned. “I mean… a little?”

Beau chuckled, shaking his head. “Not even remotely.”

Jenny sighed dramatically, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “Ah, yes. That’s right. Our Sheriff is disgustingly in love and thrilled to lose his bachelor status.”

Beau smirked, shrugging. “Damn right, I am.”

The room erupted into groans, laughter, and a few deputies playfully throwing napkins at him.

Jenny shook her head, her smirk still very much in place. “It’s honestly sickening how ready you are to be a married man.”

Beau grinned, grabbing a plate and serving himself a large piece of cake. “Y’all act like I haven’t been married before.”

Poppernak chuckled. “Yeah, but this time you actually like your fiancée.”

Beau let out a booming laugh. “That is a key difference.”

Jenny rolled her eyes, but her expression softened just a bit. “All right, seriously, Beau—we’re happy for you.”

Beau smirked. “I know.”

She shook her head, nudging him. “So, you ready for this? Wedding’s just a few days away.”

Beau exhaled, taking a sip of his coffee. “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

Jenny nodded, something genuinely warm in her expression. “Good. Because she’s crazy about you, Sheriff.”

Beau smiled, his chest swelling at the thought of Y/N. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice full of certainty. “I know.”

And as the celebration continued, as his deputies teased him about his last days as a single man, Beau knew—

There wasn’t a single part of him that was gonna miss his bachelor days.

Because the best part of his life was just about to begin.

Saturday morning came with the buzz of excitement and last-minute wedding preparations.

For Beau, though, the most important task of the day was heading to the airport to pick up his parents.

Hank and Evelyn Arlen were flying in from Texas, and as much as Beau loved them, he was mentally preparing himself for the whirlwind that was his mother.

Y/N had offered to go with him, but with so much still to finalize before the wedding, she was needed at home. So, with a quick kiss goodbye and a smiled warning from Y/N to not let his mother drive him insane, Beau had headed to the airport.

Now, standing near the arrivals gate, he adjusted his hat and sighed, scanning the incoming passengers.

And then—

He spotted them.

His mama—Evelyn Arlen—was the first to step through the terminal doors, wearing a stylish blue blouse, her graying hair perfectly curled, and an expression of absolute determination as she marched toward him.

Hank, his much calmer father, followed closely behind, carrying both their suitcases like a man who knew better than to argue with his wife.

Beau barely had time to brace himself before Evelyn reached him.

“Oh, my baby!”

Beau huffed as she practically launched herself at him, pulling him into a tight, borderline bone-crushing hug. “Hey, Mama.”

She squeezed him tighter, rocking them slightly. “Oh, I missed you so much! Let me look at you!”

She pulled back, cupping his face. “You look so good, sweetheart! But are you eating enough? You look lean.”

Beau sighed, shaking his head. “Mama, I eat plenty.”

Hank chuckled, finally catching up. “Evelyn, let the boy breathe.”

Evelyn waved him off, still studying Beau like she was assessing his life choices.

Beau smirked, finally turning to his father. “Hey, Dad.”

Hank grinned, finally getting his turn to hug his son. “Doin’ alright, boy?”

Beau sighed, grateful for the much calmer interaction. “Doin’ great.”

Hank patted his back. “Looks like life’s treatin’ you well.”

Beau smiled, thinking of Y/N, of their kids, of the family they had built. “Yeah, Dad. It really is.”

Evelyn sighed dramatically, looping her arm through Beau’s as they headed toward baggage claim. “I still can’t believe my baby is getting married again.”

Beau chuckled. “Mama, I am not a baby.”

Evelyn sniffed. “You will always be my baby.”

Hank smirked. “You walked right into that one, son.”

Beau huffed, but he didn’t argue.

As they made their way through the airport, Evelyn sighed again, shaking her head. “And I cannot wait to meet Y/N in person. You know I have questions.”

Beau groaned. “Mama, please go easy on her.”

Evelyn gasps dramatically. “Excuse me? I am always charming.”

Hank smirked, muttering under his breath, “That’s debatable.”

Evelyn narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Watch yourself, Hank.”

Beau laughed, shaking his head. “Lord help me.”

Evelyn patted his cheek. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, sweetheart. I just want to know the woman who captured my son’s heart!”

Beau smiled softly. “You’re gonna love her, Mama.”

Evelyn softened, squeezing his arm. “Well, I better. Because she’s about to officially become an Arlen.”

Beau’s chest swelled with happiness at the thought.

In just a few days, Y/N would be his wife.

And as his parents chattered beside him about the wedding, the details, the plans—Beau knew—

This was just the beginning of the best chapter of his life.

The drive from the airport to the house was surprisingly smooth, mostly because Evelyn spent the entire ride alternating between gushing about the wedding and subtly (not so subtly) interrogating Beau about Y/N.

“So,” she mused from the passenger seat, adjusting her sunglasses as she glanced at her son. “Tell me again how you met this wonderful woman of yours?”

Beau sighed, gripping the steering wheel. “Mama, I already told you the story.”

Evelyn waved a hand. “I know, but I like hearing it.”

Hank, from the backseat, smirked. “She just wants to make sure it wasn’t fate and you weren’t tricked into this.”

Evelyn swatted at his knee. “Oh, hush, Hank.” She turned back to Beau. “Continue.”

Beau huffed but smirked anyway. “Fine. Y/N and I met in a grocery store. Her daughter, Eliza, knocked over a whole damn wall of Chef Boyardee, and I almost got taken out by a rogue can of ravioli.”

Evelyn gasped. “Oh my Lord.”

Hank chuckled. “That does sound like a dramatic entrance.”

Beau grinned. “That’s exactly what I thought.”

Evelyn narrowed her eyes. “And yet, despite the near-fatal grocery store incident, you still pursued her?”

Beau laughed, shaking his head. “Mama, I knew the second I saw her that I wanted to.” He shrugged. “Eliza was already set on us being together anyway. Figured I’d listen to the kid.”

Evelyn sighed, placing a hand over her heart. “Oh, I love that.”

Beau smirked. “Good. ‘Cause you’re gonna love her, Mama.”

Evelyn smiled warmly. “I better.”

Hank chuckled. “Well, son, if your mother doesn’t approve, you know you’re in trouble.”

Beau grinned, pulling into the driveway. “Well, good thing I ain’t worried.”

As soon as the car pulled up, the front door opened, and there stood Y/N—poised, smiling, welcoming—with Eliza bouncing at her side.

“Bo-Bo!” Eliza shouted, launching herself forward.

Beau grinned, scooping her up with practiced ease. “Hey there, wolf-child.”

Eliza giggled, her little hands gripping his shirt before she turned and spotted the new faces.

Her eyes went wide. “Who dat?”

Beau chuckled. “That’s my mama and daddy, baby.”

Evelyn, already misty-eyed, gasped softly. “Oh, my stars—you are just precious.”

Eliza tilted her head, inspecting Evelyn with serious toddler scrutiny.

Then—she reached for her.

Evelyn beamed, taking Eliza into her arms as if she had always belonged there. “Oh, we’re going to get along just fine, aren’t we?”

Eliza giggled, resting her head against Evelyn’s shoulder. “Bo-Bo’s mama.”

Beau smirked. “Yep, baby girl.”

Y/N, watching the interaction, smiled softly, stepping forward to greet Hank first with a handshake before turning to Evelyn.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Y/N said warmly.

Evelyn sighed dramatically, shifting Eliza slightly so she could take Y/N’s hands in hers. “Oh, sweetheart, I have so many things I want to say, but let’s start with—thank you for loving my boy.”

Y/N blinked, visibly touched. “I’d say it was the easiest thing in the world.”

Evelyn made a soft, pleased noise before pulling Y/N into a hug—Eliza still in her arms, squished between them.

Hank, standing beside Beau, grinned. “Well, son, looks like your mother approves.”

Beau let out a slow breath, watching as his fiancée and his mother already bonded over Eliza’s chatter.

His chest felt full.

“Yeah, Dad,” Beau murmured, his heart settling. “I think we’re all gonna be just fine.”

And with that, the Arlen family officially began their final countdown to the wedding.

After plenty of warm introductions, laughter, and Evelyn insisting on taking over Y/N’s kitchen to prepare a “proper” Southern-style dinner, the house was buzzing with life.

With the wedding just days away, everyone was settling into their roles, and part of that meant making room for Beau’s parents.

Emily, ever the gracious daughter, had already volunteered to move into Eliza’s room for the week, letting her grandparents take the guest room.

Now, standing in the doorway of her temporary bedroom, Emily watched as Eliza carefully gathered her stuffed animals, arranging them in a very specific formation.

“You sure you’re okay with me staying in here, kiddo?” Emily asked, arms crossed as she leaned against the doorframe.

Eliza, very busy adjusting her favorite stuffed horse, barely looked up. “Uh-huh.”

Emily smiled. “You positive?”

Eliza paused, her little brow furrowing. “Where you sleep?”

Emily chuckled. “Right here.” She gestured to the small fold-out cot that had been squeezed beside Eliza’s bed.

Eliza tilted her head, considering this. Then, with a very serious expression, she said, “You scared of da dark?”

Emily snorted, shaking her head. “Nope.”

Eliza nodded, satisfied. “Good. ‘Cause I not scared either.”

Emily bit her lip, thoroughly entertained. “Well, I feel better already.”

Beau, who had been watching from the hallway, chuckled. “Wolf-child, you keep an eye on your big sister, al lright?”

Eliza gasped dramatically, puffing up with importance. “I protect her.”

Emily laughed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, thank God. I was so worried.”

Beau smiled, stepping into the room and ruffling Emily’s hair. “Thanks for bein’ a good sport, kid.”

Emily huffed, adjusting her hair. “Yeah, yeah. Just make sure Grandma and Grandpa don’t start interrogating Y/N the second we leave them alone.”

Beau chuckled. “Oh, you know Mama’s gonna interrogate her.”

Emily grinned. “I’m just hopin’ I don’t get grilled next.”

Beau smirked. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I distracted her with Eliza.”

At that exact moment, from down the hall, Evelyn’s voice called out—

“Eliza, darlin’, come tell me all about how your mama and daddy met!”

Eliza gasped with pure joy, immediately bolting past Beau and Emily. “OKAY!”

Beau smirked, looking at his eldest daughter. “See? Problem solved.”

Emily shook her head, laughing. “You are so lucky she exists.”

Beau chuckled, pulling her in for a quick side hug. “Thanks for makin’ room for ‘em, sweetheart.”

Emily smiled, nudging him playfully. “Yeah, yeah. Just remember this the next time I ask for extra wedding cake.”

Beau smiled. “Deal.”

And with that, they settled in, the house fully alive with love, laughter, and the final countdown to Beau and Y/N’s big day.

The next few days were a whirlwind—a beautiful, stressful, exciting whirlwind of last-minute wedding preparations, meeting out-of-town guests, and controlled (and occasionally uncontrolled) chaos.

The house was full—not just with Beau’s parents, but now with aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends rolling into town for the big day.

And Beau?

Beau was taking it all in stride.

Mostly.

Wednesday afternoon, just three days before the wedding, the wedding party gathered at the venue for the official rehearsal.

Beau stood at the front of the beautiful outdoor setting, dressed in his usual jeans and boots, but with a stunningly crisp button-up that Y/N had specifically picked out for him (“No, you can't wear the same damn flannel, Beau.”).

Y/N, standing a few feet away, was focused—going over every detail with the wedding coordinator, double-checking timing, confirming the music cues.

Beau, meanwhile, was grinning, hands in his pockets, watching his soon-to-be-wife with pure adoration.

Jenny, standing beside him as his best woman, smirked. “Alright, Romeo, focus.”

Beau huffed, snapping out of it. “I am focused.”

Jenny snorted. “Oh, sure. You’re real focused on staring at your fiancée like she’s the last drink of water in the desert.”

Beau smirked, shrugging. “She is.”

Jenny groaned. “I regret saying yes to this role.”

Poppernak, standing nearby, grinned. “No, you don’t.”

Jenny sighed dramatically. “Yeah, okay, I don’t.”

The rehearsal went smoothly (mostly—Eliza kept getting distracted by the flower petals she was supposed to scatter, and Caleb absolutely tried to chew on the ring box at one point), but by the end of it, Y/N finally relaxed, leaning into Beau’s side.

“We’re really doing this,” she murmured, resting a hand on his chest.

Beau smirked, tilting her chin up to look at him. “Damn right, we are.”

Y/N smiled, brushing her fingers over his jaw. “You ready?”

Beau leaned in, kissing her softly. “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

Jenny groaned loudly from the side. “Okay, stop, we get it, you’re in love.”

Beau and Y/N just laughed, completely unbothered.

By Thursday, the full guest list had arrived—which meant even more Arlen family members (and a few of Y/N’s long-distance relatives) were rolling into town.

The house became a revolving door of people stopping by, some staying for coffee, others just dropping in to hug Beau to death (his aunts, mostly) and grill Y/N on her feelings about marrying into this chaos.

Margaret absolutely took over as the unofficial hostess, making sure everyone was greeted, fed, and informed of every detail of the wedding weekend.

Her husband, Y/N’s stepfather, finally arrived that evening, having been delayed by work.

Russell was a kind, reserved man—someone who balanced out Margaret’s bold, take-charge energy with his steady, grounded nature. The moment he stepped into the house, he took one look at the absolute circus around him and sighed.

“Should’ve gotten here sooner, huh?” he muttered to Y/N as he pulled her in for a hug.

Y/N laughed, squeezing him. “Oh, definitely.”

Russell smirked, then turned toward Beau, eyeing him appraisingly before extending a hand. “So. You’re the one making my stepdaughter an Arlen.”

Beau grinned, shaking his hand firmly. “Yessir. That’d be me.”

Russell gave a small nod, glancing at Margaret, who was already smothering Eliza with kisses. “You know what you’re getting into, right?”

Beau chuckled, glancing at Y/N with so much love in his eyes. “Oh, I know.”

Russell sighed, shaking his head fondly. “All right then. Guess I can’t stop it.”

Y/N snorted, nudging him playfully. “You like him, admit it.”

Russell smirked. “I’ll let you know after the wedding.”

Beau laughed, but he knew—he had won over Margaret, and Russell wasn’t far behind.

Friday night, the last night before Beau and Y/N officially became husband and wife, the house was buzzing with final details, pre-wedding excitement, and last-minute preparations.

Y/N had made the executive decision that they would not be spending the night together—something about tradition and it making the moment more special.

Beau, for the record, hated it.

“You do realize,” he murmured, standing in the doorway of her room, “that this is the last time I’ll ever sleep without you, right?”

Y/N smirked, stepping up to him. “Exactly why you’ll survive one night.”

Beau sighed dramatically, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You say that, but I’m already suffering.”

Y/N laughed, pressing her hands against his chest. “You love the anticipation.”

Beau grinned, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to her lips. “I love you.”

Y/N sighed against him, fingers tightening on his shirt. “Tomorrow.”

Beau’s lips brushed against hers. “Tomorrow.”

And as they finally pulled apart, Beau grinned, stepping back. “Try not to miss me too much, darlin’.”

Y/N huffed, shaking her head. “Oh, go sleep, Arlen.”

Beau smirked, taking one last lingering look at her before heading toward the guest room.

And as he laid in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, knowing that the next time he closed his eyes, he’d be waking up on his wedding day—

Beau knew one thing for certain.

He had never been happier in his entire life.

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28, @deansimpalababy, @daisychaingirl

@nancymcl, @deans-baby-momma, @kickingitwithkirk, @kmc1989, @ozwriterchick

Want to be a part of this tag list or others? Comment here and I'll add you! And check out my other stories that are currently being written!

[digitalcactusblog]

Top 5 drinks? ☕

i am about to confess. i am a terminal water-drinker SKFJHG i'm not super into sweet things and don't mind the taste of just plain water? so i don't often have any beverages at all, so this list is about to be the most hyper-specific list of beverages known to man 😂

hot water: i would argue this counts as a drink, because most people i know don't drink hot water, i'm just very chinese lol. it's nice! feels less shocking to the system than cold water. i do not like cold water.

taro bubble tea: truly the most bestest of bubble teas. it's purple! it has edible tadpoles! yum. idk unpopular opinion though, every time i get it from a place where they actually serve legitimate taro inside their taro bubble tea, i hate it. i want the artificial stuff that comes in powder form, that is probably like 90% sugar by weight

there's this corn juice that T&T sells that's really good. is also probably 90% sugar by weight. corn!

okay i have to admit that i do like the starbucks coffee cappuccino frappuccino whatever stuff that comes in the sealed glass bottles that you can get. again, definitely mostly sugar and milk by weight (i am not a hardcore coffee person. i'm not even a coffee person really), but they taste really good. i haven't had one in years and i'm not about to break that streak now! but i do remember really liking it.

another asian beverage, there's this pineapple beer stuff that is mostly non-alcoholic (the alcohol % is super low) that is really good. ALSO most DEFINITELY 90% sugar by weight, i swear it tastes kinda like caramel and nothing like pineapple. still good tho!

[askamnesiamoonjumper]

me after editing the aau prologue for the bajillionth time

[aberooski]

Y'all are gonna get Sons of The Stars (Abby's version)(from the vault) like this week at this rate aksksks

[ravenwolfie97]

i can't sleep and i want to fight youtube

[dreambelievers]

I don’t know anything about how Japanese dramas are produced but it really does feel like the Love Live! School Idol Musical The Drama was meant to have more episodes (or at least they hoped it would do well enough) and then was told to quickly wrap things up.

like if that didn’t happen then idk what is up with the pacing

[buttercupshands]

Thinking about what happened in the summer

Kids are... Really different when it comes to spending three weeks without their parents

Some start crying near the end of first day

Some start crying after couple of days

And some don't show anything while feeling the same

And being... I think English has a good word for that, let's go with a teacher but mix it with caretaker a little bit

I think seeing a kid cry at the end of that first day finally short circuited my brain, teens are way harder to understand that pre-teens who are literally still kids

They come around after a week, settle down and find new friends and your job stays the same mostly to be the one controlling their behavior

And then you'd have a kid crying again, because they miss home and the only thing you can really do is comfort them that they're not stuck here forever and that time flows so fast they won't notice it

And maybe they didn't. Time really did flew and they were leaving

Parents visited kids sometimes, of course, and it was so scary at first but they were mostly friendly and nice

Maybe because of that group chat that let them see that their kids are fine and are having fun

In the end for kids it was painful at first, but fun in the end. I got hugged more times than I could count when they were all leaving

And then poof

Back to your own life you go, like nothing happened

[anniflamma]

"Waiting, waiting... Ooooh!"

Here comes a proper concept illustration of Odysseus’ wifey!

Since Penelope is very underdeveloped in Epic, it’s hard to pin down what her personality is in the musical, so I’ve drawn a lot of inspiration from the original Odyssey and added some of my own ideas. Initially, I liked the idea of portraying her as a graceful queen, someone who always smiles despite how rudely the suitors treat her. But then I realized I really liked using visual language to show how Odysseus remembers Penelope from his sweetest memories.

Because of all the trauma he experiences on his journey, Penelope becomes more of an "end destination" for him, a symbol of hope. To Odysseus, once he gets back to Penelope, everything will be fine. In his visions or memories, Penelope with a warm smile, little bit soft on the edges. But the real her, the one we meet in The Challenge, looks tired and constantly angry, except, of course, when she thinks about Odysseus. This contrast helps the audience see that she has changed as well, both in how she looks and how she acts, compared to how Odysseus idealizes her.

I also really like the idea that the reason Penelope didn’t kick out the suitors wasn’t out of respect for some tradition that puts her in a position of servitude and compromise. Instead, it’s because Zeus himself came down and told her that if she kicked them out, he would smite Odysseus or Telemachus. That interpretation does fit how Epic the musical portrays Zeus so.....

This puts her in a position where she endures all of this to protect the ones she loves, rather than just following a tradition that don't even respect her due to she is a woman.

Also, funny thing, my first drawing of her was that reveal shot from the Thunder Bringer animatic!

And of course, she gets a veil! Similar to Hera and Circe! This choice is rooted in the tradition where married women wore veils, or at least something to cover their hair, when male guests entered their home. If Penelope walked around without a head covering in front of the suitors, it would signal that she was available, which is literally the opposite of what she wanted, don’t you think?

That said, I think I’ll design her veil a little differently. The one I drew here is kind of just a test.

[littlelamy]

you were right!

a/n: okay, i know you guys might be tired of me doing these but this is my last one! i hope you all like it 😜 gifs from @rafeyscurtainbangs

The blazing Moroccan sun beats down on Rafe, its intensity mirrored by the firestorm raging in his mind. Dust hangs in the air around him, adding to the harshness of the moment as he stands over the well. Below, Groff coughs and groans, his face contorted in pain, but Rafe barely spares him a second glance. His rage overpowers everything else, even the satisfaction he should feel. He narrows his eyes, voice laced with anger and finality.

“Checkmate, bitch!” he yells down, his words slicing through the hot, tense air. The motorcycle engine he’d used to get out here sits idle a few feet away, rumbling like his frustration.

He turns on his heel, muttering a curse, fists clenched. As he stalks away from the well, he pulls out his phone and dials Sofia’s number, his chest tight with the realization that everything he thought he knew was a lie.

Sofia answers after two rings, her voice as casual as if he hadn’t just found out about her betrayal. “Hey, babe, what’s up ?”

Rafe’s voice is steely, cold. “Is it true? Is it true, what Groff just told me? Is it?”

The silence on her end is all he needs. He can practically hear her scrambling for words, but she never manages to answer. His face twists in anger.

“Pack your shit. Get out of my house,” he snarls, a final, unforgiving edge in his voice. “God, after everything I did for you? We’re done. Done.” He hangs up before she can say another word, shoving his phone back into his pocket with a bitter scoff. Betrayed, twice over—and he’d ignored the only person who saw it coming.

He stands there, baking in the Moroccan heat, his mind racing back to a month ago in Kildare, when you and he had argued over Sofia. You’d warned him that she wasn’t who she seemed. He’d brushed you off, accusing you of jealousy—knowing damn well that there was more to it. You were his best friend, but it was complicated; that line had already been crossed too many times, with late-night kisses and tangled sheets. But you two hadn’t spoken since that fight, since the way he’d brushed you off had hurt deeper than either of you cared to admit.

Taking a breath, he pulls out his phone again, fingers hovering over your name. He hesitates, swallowing his pride, before finally pressing call.

The phone rings, and you pick up after a few moments, your voice tight with annoyance. “What, Rafe?”

Your tone makes him pause, but the way you sound almost comforts him, even with the irritation clear in your voice. You’re there—back in Kildare, probably sitting cozy in your little apartment. Meanwhile, he’s out here under the scorching sun, alone, trying to piece together his pride.

He clears his throat. “Hey… princess,” he says, voice softened, the pet name slipping out before he can stop it. He can almost feel you rolling your eyes on the other end, but he presses on, the words weighing heavy on him. “I—uh… Look, I’m sorry. You were right.”

There’s a surprised pause, and he hears you shift in your seat as if you’re debating whether to hang up or let him speak. When you do answer, your tone is a bit softer, cautious.

“What happened?”

Rafe lets out a dry, humorless laugh. “Turns out Sofia was exactly who you said she was. A snake. And here I was, thinking you were just being… petty. But I guess I’m the idiot, huh?”

You breathe out, and he can picture you shaking your head, lips pressed together. “You wouldn’t listen,” you say quietly, as if the words hold more hurt than anger.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in his voice. “I know. I was so damn sure you were just jealous. I mean—” He pauses, grappling with how to say it. “Hell, I thought you were jealous because you… I don’t know. I thought you didn’t want me with her because we…” His voice trails off, but the implication lingers between you.

“Yeah,” you say softly, almost to yourself. “I get it.”

Rafe bites his lip, letting the words sink in. “Can I see you? I’m done here in a few days, and I could be back in Kildare very soon. I could stop by, explain… properly.”

A beat passes, and when you finally speak, it’s careful, guarded. “After everything you said last time, why should I?”

He laughs softly, almost self-deprecating. “Because I think you might be the only person I can trust right now. And… I miss you.” His voice drops, laced with a warmth he can’t help. “Even if you’re just going to gloat and rub it in my face.”

You chuckle, and he smiles, savoring the sound. “I don’t know if I miss you or if I just feel sorry for you,” you tease, but the playfulness is back in your tone, if only faintly.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, amusement lacing his words. “Act like you don’t care. But come on, you miss me. Admit it.”

A small silence follows, and he imagines the way your lips twitch into a smile. Finally, you relent. “Maybe a little. But you’re bringing wine. Good wine.”

“Oh, don’t worry, baby,” he says, the flirtation back in his voice. “Only the best for you.”

You scoff, but he hears the hint of a laugh. It’s the closest thing he’s had to a good moment in a long time. He takes a breath, savoring the thought of leaving this mess behind and getting back to Kildare—back to the only person who knew him well enough to call him out, and care anyway. As the call ends, he puts his phone in his pocket, a grin spreading across his face, motivating him to get that crown and go to his princess.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif