#and that's probably what they end up fighting over

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (13)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

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

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Darling gets closer to making her choice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uhhh—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And suddenly, you are all he sees.

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

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

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

To hell with the pool.

“What do you think?” 

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

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

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

“You like the colour?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hold on to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank the heavens for Olivia.

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

“Enjoying yourself there?” you ask sweetly.

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

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

“I was not glaring.”

“You so were, Matthew.”

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

“Wha—Oh! Matt! Get up here!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As you watch the world, he watches his world.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you murmur, a touch distracted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With you as the main course in the Ewan banquet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vultures.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s always been Ewan, all along. 

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

Some notes in the margins...

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

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

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

[a-student-out-of-time]

An Important Reminder In Trying Times

Hey everyone, Mod Bubbles here.

I know that I've said over and over that I don't like talking about politics on here, but I really feel the need to say this:

This Is Not The End.

I understand things probably seem really bleak right now. A lot of people are going to be hurt by this, and the sheer amount of fearmongering and worst case scenarios are inescapable. But the country and the world are not going to change overnight. To be honest, it may not change very much at all in the next four years. I'm not a political scientist, so I can't tell you that for sure. There's a lot to be concerned about.

What I can tell you, as a student of history, is this: not only have we survived this once, we have survived this every time.

Think about it this way: every single tyrant, every single right-wing representative, every single emperor and colonial power, every corporate scumbag and power-hungry lunatic. No matter how many of them have ever come to power, held onto power, and tried to make themselves seem invincible, not a single one has ever held back humanity's progress and not a single one has proven to be invincible.

There were countries throughout history, especially in the 20th century, that fell under brutal dictatorships and saw countless lives lost. Did the people just give up and accept it? Fuck no they didn't. They fought back. Many of them lived to see democracy restored to their lands in their lifetimes, or fought to see it restored in their children's.

From Europe to Latin America, while many countries still have their issues, they endured and their people have survived. Their governments were not invincible, just as none ever have been.

Regardless of the outcome of this election, the world will go on. People will not just roll over and accept whatever horrible things happen, the fight will continue and we will do everything in our power to carry on as we always have. We'll carry on to achieve bigger and better things.

Let me also be clear: if you feel the need to cry, please cry. If you're afraid, don't pretend you're not. If you're angry, allow yourself to feel that anger. But if you're seriously contemplating giving up or hurting yourself, please don't.

You may hear all this news and ask yourself, "Bubbles, what's the point? What can I do about all this?" I've felt that way too, I have for a long time. I understand completely. It's scary and overwhelming, but I'll tell you exactly what you can do to fight against that: you can be kind.

Do you want to know where the most tangible change in the world begins? It's never at the top. It begins with people like us on a communal level, where we reach out to help others. Whether that means we help our neighbors, our friends, or any strangers we can.

Going out of your way to start fights, looking for someone to blame based on the flimsiest justifications, and just being cruel because you're angry, those aren't how you change anything. Those just add to the problem.

Here's just some ideas on what you can do instead:

Get away from the news, stop doomscrolling, mute doomers, and turn the TV and news apps off. This will get you out of a negative feedback loop that'll make you feel worse and more powerless, which is what they're designed to do in order to maximize traffic.

Remember to eat, sleep, brush your teeth, take a shower, take your meds, and do everything else you need to do to stay healthy.

If you or someone else really feel like leaving the country for your own safety is best, you can still work do so. But please don't convince yourself that if you can't, it's over.

Give back to people as much as you can. Show the people in your life who support you that you care, and that all that they do for you matters.

Donate to good causes you believe in.

Stand up to bullshit whenever you see it.

Do not give up on your dreams and ambitions. One bad leader does not mean your future automatically ends. Stop worrying about any potential apocalypse in the future, because you can do that even on the best days, and instead work toward a future that you CAN achieve.

There's this pervasive and very inaccurate idea that it's only the president who gets to enforce policies on the country. This ignores governors, the House of Representatives, Congress, mayors, and the countless other leaders involved. And it ignores you.

You do not have to spend the next 3 years and 364 days doing nothing but feeling miserable. In fact, that's the last thing you should do. Fear and despair are the weapons they wield, and they only have as much power as you allow them to have over you.

If your view of politics is that you just have to vote for the "right one" and then everything will be utopian, or that if people vote for the wrong one" then we're headed for a terrible dystopian nightmare, I have to tell you that that is incredibly reductionist and also very dumb. I can also tell you from personal experience that it's not them who make the real changes where it's needed.

A friend sent me a video that really opened my eyes on this situation: Adam Conover, the guy behind Adam Ruins Everything, said he's not worried about all this. Why? Because he and some friends were able, through their own power, to make real positive changes in their community. They were able to bring homelessness down in their district by over 38% through their own efforts.

And he's right that, as a silver lining to all this, it made more Americans than ever take a stand against all the horrible shit they were seeing and get involved with solutions.

Speaking from my own experiences as well, when Hurricane Helene devastated my area, it wasn't the politicians who came and repaired roads and power lines, it wasn't them who brought in food and supplies to everyone, and it wasn't them who worked tirelessly to save people still in need. It was everyone in our local communities.

The people at the top have never really cared about anything more than your money and your vote, but the people around you care more than you may believe they would. Hell, even strangers on the internet care more than you'd believe.

Now, even if you've made it this far, you may be wondering "What about when he starts outlawing and banning things?" To that, I say look at Prohibition and see how well that went. Politicians have only ever operated under the idea that banning something will make it go away, and it always does the exact opposite. And if you're still worried, you can get involved with organizations that fight to support these things being available and regulated.

But by now, you may also be wondering "What if I can't get involved? What if I'm too young or I don't have the money, or my parents won't let me?"

Then just be kind.

Stop looking for enemies to blame. Don't martyr yourself for some nebulous cause or the idea that your suffering increasing means the rest of the suffering in the world will go down. Don't torture yourself by telling yourself that you didn't do enough.

Show compassion, show support, show love and genuine care toward people who need it, including yourself.

"But there's so many shitty people in this country and the world, why should I-" Stop thinking that way. This isn't about them, this is about you and how you can make a difference. There will probably always be shitheads and power-hungry morons, but that does not negate the fact that you can choose to be different. You can choose to be kind.

Kindness is a sword that you have to learn how to wield. Wield it responsibly and use it to help others. No matter how small or insignificant it may be, YOU DO MAKE A DIFFERENCE.

I say all this as a 29-year-old who spent most of his life feeling scared and miserable about so many current events, convincing myself I'm useless and selfish because I was worried about so much and I hated myself for all of it. And I've decide I'm not going to do that anymore.

During the last right-wing era, I managed to help build a whole community out of my love for Danganronpa. I created friendships, relationships, and there are people alive right now because I chose to do so. Because I chose to use that community for kindness. I want to keep building from there by going into streaming and reaching out to more people.

I won't lie to you and say that I'm not scared, because I am. But I'm also not going to let fear change who I am. I want us all to be better to ourselves and others, because that is how you defeat hate. It starts with you.

And if you're still concerned, let me share with you a quote from The Great Dictator, a movie made in 1940, when World War II wasn't even at its height yet:

To those who can hear me, I say - do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed - the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish…

Please take care of yourselves out there, everyone. We'll get through this, just as we always have.

[denovoeve]

This reads like you aren't actually paying attention. Did people just not actually read project 2025? Are they just politically illiterate?It's some policy prescriptions, sure, but it's primarily the training and recruitment portions that matter.

Trump couldn't fuck your nation as badly as he wanted the last time because he didn't have a ready supply of thumbheaded henchmen to fill all the necessary roles in the institutions he nominally led. Most of the impact of project 2025 is supplying him those people. It's recruitment and a barebones training initiative for people willing to put president over nation in pursuit of Christian nationalist agenda. Trump obviously doesn't believe that shit, but he'll happily lead a big tent fascist takeover if they'll let him be dictator.

The bureaucrats that staff these institution, that resisted last time because they believe in the American empire and refuse to let a more overt fascist fuck it up, won't be able to this time. These bureaucrats are essentially demons themselves, happy to let the cogs of empire grind brown people abroad to mince meat, but they have limits. They pump the brakes when anyone risks starting WW3 or turning the nations stolen assets abroad into ruble. That guardrail is gone this time.

The only guardrail anyone can pretend exists against Trumps worst impulses this time is going to be capital. And I've got to be honest, if you think capital is going to prevent him from being the impulsive little troll he is, you're a fucking idiot. Capitalists are the most spineless, cowardly cretin on the planet. They do not ultimately believe in growing the economy, as they pretend. They do not believe in prosperity for all, to their own benefit or otherwise. Drill down, and at the end of the day all they believe in is being on top of the shitheap.

Look at how people couldn't even wait until the election to start spitshining Trumps rod. Musk and his toadies aren't going to get a real shadow presidency. Benzos isn't going to save us. They're going to jump for the chance to kneel in front of Trump the second it looks like he's willing to fight them on anything.

Capitalist will not risks a fight that might see them facing down the US government and losing it all. They'll make a value judgement and decide they're better off keeping what they can and letting the US implode if the alternative is risking a fight they might lose. Some will try and ingraciate themselves to reap the benefits of other forms of power (ala Musk), while others will probably just look at pulling up stakes and moving their shit to greener pastures.

If you hate the US empire above all else, some of this is going to likely be good, long term, in damaging its power and place at the head of the table.

But the largest and most powerful military (domestic and abroad) on the planet is going to be fully under the power of a dumb little troll, in all likelihood. That's going to suck for anyone that isn't falling in line domestically. It's going to entail even more brutal and unhinged use of muscle by the US abroad.

The US government already ignores its own laws in pursuit of doing terrible shit, but it can absolutely get worse. An increasingly overtly fascist empire flailing as it tears itself apart is likely to do incredible harm. Germany didn't have a fraction of the influence or military might the US does and it ate its domestic population alive and plunged the world into war. Theres a huge difference in the potential to do harm between liberal American fascism vs. overt, out and proud, fascim.

is it naive to think maybe a Trump second term won't be so bad? like is there any vision of the next four years and beyond where maybe things are okay

I do think that a lot of what he says is transparently fleeting bullshit he's not going to follow through on, doesn't believe in, and is only saying to get praise from his base, and that's been demonstrated many many times over the years. Like, he never started throwing people into prisons for burning the American flag or whatever. I don't want to minimize the horrors of what he has done in this country and what he could very well do, but I think the mainstream liberal narrative on Trump is to amplify the hell out of every out of pocket thing he says and does and to mine it for as much outrage and fear as possible while downplaying the numerous terrifying things that have already been happening all around the country under state-level Republican leadership, and ignoring just how much Dems are complicit in all of it. Like, will libs start complaining about kids in cages at the border again?? even though the cages never left, and Biden deported more people than Trump did??

The take away for me isn't necessarily that "things under Trump won't be *that bad*" but that things have already been exactly as bad as the Democratic Party has framed life under Trump to be. A lot of liberals exist in a permanent state of willful denial about the evils of this empire and Trump forces them out of pretending things aren't happening that already are, but they focus all the blame for it on him.

[miriani-lavellan]

Ahh, Lucanis. So let me first say, his scenes make total sense and I'm happy with what we got - we all want more from our faves, but they did manage to compact a lot of trauma and resolution in some fairly compact quests. Here's what I think happened that wasn't made explicitly clear though:

Lucanis chooses the pantry to sleep in because he's been imprisoned and tortured for a year, and he's not ready to leave captivity yet, not inside his head. He locks himself in there because it's familiar misery to him, which is easier to deal with than scary freedom.

Lucanis' letter to Rook before he asks Emmrich to bring Zara back for questioning tells us he's suicidal at that point, and probably has been for a while. Spite, however, doesn't see him as a lost cause - he never uses that to take over Lucanis' body entirely. This is so interesting to me, when we know things like that pretty famously happen all the time in Thedas. He's determined to keep Lucanis alive - and he asks for Rook's help in doing so.

We are in the NORTH now BABY! Attitudes towards spirits and demons are different here, especially in Rivain, and it seems with our Rook too, who never expresses any chantry-esque hang ups (that I've seen). Seer Rowan greets Spite as Determination, and that's how he's introduced by Isabela (with some excitement) if you fight in the hall of Valor. What happened to Spite is just as sad as what happened to Lucanis. He was violated, perhaps corrupted, and definitely trapped - and hurts Lucanis sometimes in his frustration. But, I think he likes Lucanis! He's his host's little head gremlin, and I think the relationship they have (that we don't see too much of) is healthier than any of the possessed individuals we've seen before.

Because? Lucanis is not a spiteful person. He wants revenge, yes, and he's angry, but he doesn't hurt everyone around him because he's in pain. One of the first things he does when he becomes part of the team is go shopping for them. And despite how Ilario and Caterina have hurt him - and you can argue all day whether he's right to be like this - he still cares for them.

I think that when we help Lucanis leave the prison inside his head, we are helping Spite too return to his original nature as Determination just a little more. We're determined to help our friend, and you know what? Spite is too. For himself, firstly, because Lucanis's pain is hurting him, but in the end, he's done it for Lucanis too. There's an argument there that Determination didn't get corrupted at all - just hurt, and that Lucanis, with his loving nature, has been keeping him from turning into a mindless demon of pain.

I thought for a long time that when Lucanis breaks away from kissing Rook, it was because Spite said something horrible to him. But actually, I think it was Lucanis himself, remembering how trapped he is. Thinking about the eventuality of killing himself - I strongly suspect that's what he was thinking about before he fell asleep, and that's why Spite was trying to go walkabout - trying to get out from where Lucanis can't. Lucanis got lost in the moment, but of course he doesn't want to drag Rook into that.

Lucanis making dessert for Rook and thinking that's the same as asking them out (but not actually asking them out) is so completely on brand for him I laughed. He has no idea what he's doing. It would have been nice, though, for Rook to reply to one of the companion's 'so you're together?' banters with... 'we are?' Or for Rook to be able to ask him. Unfortunately, we don't get those convos where we can spam ask questions etc like in DA:I - I did wonder if that got cut and we missed some resolution to that.

Lucanis gives no shits about everyone knowing he's Rook's love interest. He's not ashamed of himself or scared he'll hurt them - Rook has helped both him and Spite. And judging by the way Spite's wings come out to embrace Rook as they kiss Lucanis, I suspect that Spite might love them, too.

[firewasabeast]

I 100% agree with you that that was lazy writing. What was the point of deliberately picking someone the audience (and the 118) were familiar with to be Buck's LI when they could have picked some random. What was the point in delving into Tommy's history and his feelings, what was the point of showing him head over heels for Buck in the last ep, of getting a gift for their 6 month anniversary only to say "oh well, I figured we wouldn't last, so I'm gonna get out now before you break my heart". Why let him get that involved if Tommy's ideology was to never allow himself to move forward in the relationship because ultimately he thought it wouldn't last? It's whiplash for the audience after you saw how INVESTED Tommy was in the last ep! And how exactly is this Buck getting off the hamster wheel? This relationship has ended pretty much exactly like all his others - he gets invested, they leave! They had so much potential as a couple - seeing what it's like for two fire-fighters to date knowing they're both in risky jobs, maybe Buck having to meet/deal with Tommy's homophobic father, getting to explore a "new" character's back story instead of rehashing the same story lines from the mains as well as seeing more of how Buck deals with being in a same sex relationship. All wasted.

And since they referenced Glee, if the plan is for it to echo the Kurt/Blaine relationship in that show where they broke up so they could "explore" before getting back together, by doing so they ruined that relationship so much that by the end it wasn't satisfying that they WERE endgame - they weren't the couple we fell in love with. (And also, way to reinforce the negative stereotype of "you can't ever be long term with your first". I should let my sister, my cousin and my aunt know even though they've all been married for years to their husbands - all their first.) Even if they do decide to bring Tommy back down the line, would it even be the same relationship we fell in love with? Would we even trust the writers to stick with it and treat it well? Or if they did a final episode reunion so Buck doesn't end the series alone, how is that satisfying for the audience?

I have been watching 911 since it started, and I have always been part of the general audience up until S7 where I joined the fandom because I thought Buck/Tommy were adorable. It's the first time in years I've become invested in a couple on a show. It's the first time in years that I've dipped my toes back into a fandom. Like you, this ship inspired me to write fic again. I have a bunch of wip's waiting to be posted on ao3 and I honestly don't know if I'll finish them now. And if they have broken them up for Buddie to get together I think I'll stop watching. And not just because I never saw them as a romantic couple (I only ever saw a deep friendship) but because logistically I don't see it working. Besides the fact that I think that while they work as friends, they probably wouldn't gel as a couple, two people on the same team in a relationship? That will screw up the 118 dynamic, especially as this show looooves relationship drama. If they get in a fight, or worse, break up, then what? How would that work within the 118, unless someone transfers out, but then it's bye bye the 118 we love. And not to mention, in the only 4 months I have been in this fandom I have seen some VILE crap from the buddies, and from what I understand it they've been like that for years. And the show runners know about it, so if they go with Buddie, congratulations, you've rewarded toxic behaviour and given them a license to be worse (look at them already, going in the bucktommy tags and gloating).

I told myself after Glee ended and they royally screwed everything up that I wouldn't watch another Ryan Murphy show because he has a history of doing that sort of thing. When 911 came along I was cautious, but it looked like it would be different - more grown up if you will, especially since Ryan Murphy hasn't really been involved since season 1. I should have just gone with my gut. I just hope that, knowing these last two eps were filmed weeks before they aired, the showrunners see how popular they were and realise crap, we've made a BIG mistake. (Everyone should flood instagram and especially Facebook, whoch is more GA than most social media platforms, with RESPECTFUL comments about how devastated they are, and who knows, it might make them consider bringing Tommy back sometime in 8b - I believe they're still writing the back half of the season.)

Side note, I feel really sorry for Lou. Yeah he's going back to SWAT, and I love him in that (even though his character can be a dick sometimes) but he's said in interviews how he's tired of always being cast as "the muscle" due to his size and he seemed genuinely happy to get this role, which was exactly what he was looking for - the sweet, caring, romantic love interest role where he could show some depth, and they screwed him over (sounds like he even thought Buck and Tommy were doing well and wasn't expecting the break up until the end).

(Apologies for the long rant. But what you've been saying really resonated with me and I needed to share your sentiments.)

.

[hellsitedotcom]

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*·˚ FIRST KISS HEADCANONS : PART ONE *·˚

ft. Aventurine, Moze.

My brain doesn't work properly, which means I ain't happy with anything I write when it comes to prompts/longer drabbles, so here's another round of Headcanons 'cause, uhhh, I had a random thought. (Unfortunately cursed to have those) EDIT: This...escalated a tiiiiiny bit, buuuut (as much as I hate my writing) I don't rlly mind.

*·˚ warnings/info: well, there's obviously going to be mentions of kissing; mentions of alcohol/drinking (Aventurine); Sunday's escalated so much, I had to make it a separate post lol. *·˚ english isn't my native language!

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⭒˚｡⋆ Aventurine ⭒˚｡⋆

⇢ I'll be frank: It probably happened while you were both drinking, just ''unwinding'' and ending up having a rather good time. You were sat at a bar way longer than you should've - the employees really just wanted to get home, but you two just...weren't leaving.

⇢ You were sat further away, obscured by room dividers, only your voices audible to anyone else. Aventurine had been teasing you since you agreed to go drink something with him, and now you were both at a point at which he felt like...taking risks.

⇢ He had asked you for a simple game of poker, winner gets granted a wish - but the loser will only find out what the winner wants after the game; were you in, or were you out? And you, slightly drunk, agreed after only a few seconds. What could possibly go wrong?

⇢ And he won - of course he did. What else did you expect? But you were laughing, joking how you had nearly beat him; still in a good mood, you waited for him to tell you his wish - his ''demand''; and he did, your eyes widening for mere seconds, before you granted it.

''Royal Flush,'' Aventurine triumphantly laughed, displaying the cards on the table between you, ''I win, sunshine.'' You just groaned, though you didn't hide the amusement in your expression, ''Oh, you definitely rigged that. There's no way, come on.'' ''Well, at least I almost got you,'' you added more quietly, chuckling while he collected all the cards you had used. ''I simply don't lose,'' he countered, smirking at you as he leaned closer, a motion you followed curiously, ''I thought you would've noticed by now.'' You merely scoffed, rolling your eyes without hiding your smile, ''Sure, sure, Mr. Gambler.'' ''You just got lucky,'' you hummed in a teasing manner, leaning further across the table, ''So, what's your wish?'' Aventurine held your gaze, unwavering, and even in the dim lighting of the bar, you could tell that he was thinking. A part of you wanted to regret agreeing to this, but the other part - the louder part - only grew more intrigued. For a moment, his eyes dropped to your lips - so quickly that you thought you had imagined it - before his lips parted, your eyes widening the slightest bit at his words, ''How about a kiss?'' You could feel your face heat up, a wave of different emotions momentarily taking over your expression before you collected yourself again. ''Just a kiss?'' you repeated, making sure you had heard him right. ''Just a kiss,'' Aventurine confirmed, slightly tilting his head, ''Only if you're comfortable, that is.'' Silence settled after that, your mind still processing his wish. Despite how lost in your thoughts you were, you could notice Aventurine grow...unsure? No, that wasn't really it... You were taking too long, and the man was beginning to wonder if you would back out. And just as he was about to repeat himself, making sure you knew that you didn't have to kiss him if you didn't want to, you crossed the space between the two of you, your lips crashing against his. You weren't even thinking, merely acting on instinct...on a feeling deep inside you, an urge you had been fighting for months. The second your lips had touched his, all your restrain had vanished, and Aventurine didn't seem to be feeling any different as he reciprocated your kiss, a hand coming up to rest on your neck, pulling you even closer. Neither of you could get enough, your hands resting on the table between, but all good things have to come to an end, don't they? As you tried moving even closer, breathless from the things he was doing to you, a loud buzzing noise interrupted the two of you, making you pull apart. ''The IPC...'' Aventurine groaned, visibly annoyed as he stared at his phone screen. He had to take the call, you both knew it. And, before the man could decide if he was willing to take another risk by pressing on decline, the bar staff came up to you, informing you that it was time to leave for you anyway...

⇢ You didn't sleep much that night, or the nights that followed, your mind too busy replaying that kiss over and over again. The next time you saw Aventurine again, neither of you mentioned the night at the bar, though from the way he looked at you alone, you knew you weren't the only one unable to forget it.

⭒˚｡⋆ Moze ⭒˚｡⋆

⇢ This came to me in a prophetic dream (listening to music & daydreaming), and I am a firm believer that your first kiss happened...on accident, almost. In a situation that...how did it even come to that?

⇢ You were sat beside him, hiding in the ''shadows'' away from everyone else while Moze was patrolling the area. There...wasn't really a need to do it, but it was Moze, so you didn't really question it. And while he was taking all of this seriously, you were just...laying in the sunlight, having a wonderful time.

⇢ At one point, you had just started talking, asking brief questions or sharing thoughts with him, which he - though somewhat reluctantly - replied to. Eventually, you'd even gotten him to learn over to you, and as you held his gaze in that moment, it just...came over you.

⇢ Maybe it was the fact that you were having a good day, the sunlight making you feel so alive and full of energy. Or, maybe it simply was the man's captivating presence, making you feel like you were admiring a painting. Regardless of the reason, the urge to learn in had taken over.

''I mean, I guess I just don't understand it,'' you rambled, emphasizing your confusion with your hands, ''Why make everything so much more complicated than it has to be, you know? Artisans can be a really odd bunch.'' You were lying on your back, staring up at the sunny sky as waterfall after waterfall of thoughts fell from your lips, when Moze suddenly leaned over, allowing his arm to rest beside your head. ''You talk too much,'' he huffed expressionlessly, making you fall silent as you dragged your eyes up to meet his gaze. ''Maybe you just don't talk enough,'' you quipped back, your lips twitching in amusement, ''Besides, if it bothered you, you wouldn't have stuck around me this long. We both know that.'' The man just grunted, focusing back on the crowd underneath you, ''Just try to be more quiet. I'm not helping you if we get spotted.'' ''Of course,'' you hummed, not believing a word he was saying, earning you another discontent grunt from him. Your smile just grew at that, eyes still glued to the man standing beside you. ''Just admit it, big guy,'' you teased, slightly tilting your head to get a better look at him, ''You enjoy my company.'' That made Moze turn back again, violet eyes boring into yours as he leaned over once again, making a swarm of butterflies awaken in your stomach, ''Is that so?'' His face was mostly obscured by shadows, hidden by the hood he always wore while you laid in the sun, yet her gentle warmth was entirely forgotten as you held the man's gaze, ''Tell me I'm wrong?'' Moze was quiet, just watching you wordlessly. You couldn't tell what he was thinking, but you realized the longer you stared at him, the less you cared about his answer to your counter. You were too busy getting lost in a daydream, drowning in his eyes, when a sudden urge came over you. What if you just-? Your inner voice didn't even need to finish the question, your body moving on its own as you propped yourself up, not even giving the man any time to react as you pressed your lips against his. Moze seemed to freeze under your touch, unmoving at first, until you felt his hand rest against your chin, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. His patrol all but forgotten, the man's lips began moving against yours until you pulled away to catch your breathe, your heart racing. ''I-'' You wanted to say something, but your mind, despite the hurricane of thoughts tormenting it, couldn't form a coherent sentence, so you just continued staring at him, eyes searching his expression for anything - any sign that this meant something to him. But you never got that answer as the man took a step back, letting go of you, Moze's expression as blank as a canvas. He was still looking at you, watching as your previously cheery expression began to falter, yet he remained quiet as you struggled to find the right words.

⇢ You didn't get any reaction out of Moze that day, nor did you ever calm down enough to actually say something to him in that moment. Eventually, Moze merely continued his patrol, telling you he needed to move to the next location before disappearing without waiting for a reply.

⇢ Since then, you've been...well, on one hand you've been trying to avoid him, but on the other hand, you still hoped you would catch a glimpse of him regardless of where you went. And, while you thought he probably never thought about the moment you shared, Moze felt the exact same way as you.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

[revelboo]

A Lifeless Ordinary

IDW Scavengers x Reader

• “Found a thing.” Well, that’s not concerning at all, especially with the amount of screeching coming from whatever it is dangling from Spinister’s servos. Lifting his head, Krok vents because what even is that thing? “It’s loud,” Spinister adds in a tone that makes it hard to tell what if anything the big mech thinks about that, lifting it higher as it kicks tiny legs. Some kind of organic unlike anything he’s ever seen before and loud really is an understatement. Pity making him sit up straighter, because whatever it was to begin with, the poor thing’s life expectancy just dropped significantly in Spinister’s less than capable servos.

• Everything hurts, sliding into a confused nightmare that just won’t end. The facts just keep slipping through your fingers. You’d been at work, pain sudden and sharp, a feeling of being pulled apart. And then waking up on giant, metal monster world. Trying to run from a giant abomination, getting caught and then screaming yourself hoarse in its bruising grip. Struggling because you can barely breathe as you’re held up like the monster that caught you is showing you off to his giant buddies. There’s five of them? Six? It’s hard to tell when he’s swinging you around. You think they’re speaking, but none of it makes any sense, strange alien gibberish that terrifies you even more, because you can’t even reason with them. If you can’t understand them, they probably can’t understand you.

• “What is that noise?” Misfire asks and Krok swallows back a groan, because getting the thing away from Spinister likely just went from being difficult, to impossible as the rest of the Scavengers gather around, drawn by the sound. “This,” Spinister proudly lifts the little organic higher and its screaming breaks off into frantic sounds as Krok just shakes his head. “Thought about stepping on it,” Spinister adds.

• Maybe big and scary will drop you if you hurl on him, because if he keeps swinging you around to keep the other one from grabbing you, it’s happening. You’ll probably break your neck from the fall, but that might be marginally better than getting pulled in two by them fighting over you like a shiny, new toy. The rest are just watching, talking to each in that weird, alien language. Maybe taking bets on how long you’ll survive. Or on who gets to murder you. Sobbing, you struggle against the huge hand gripping you.

• “Let it go,” Krok tries as Misfire reaches for it to make Spinister growl a warning. And he knows Spinister well enough to know that if Misfire wants it, the other’s going to double down on keeping it. Shooting the tiny organic a pitying look, he gives up. It’s not like it has that long a life expectancy out here in this wasteland to begin with, but between Misfire and Spinister? It’s not going to last a rotation, but he tried. The little thing is still jabbering nonsense and struggling, nearly getting dropped and then caught again with a shriek. Oh, it’s definitely not going to survive and it’s not his problem. At all. Even telling himself that, he can’t help but watch it finally slump against Spinster’s servos, big eyes darting around at them as if looking for help. Meeting his optics with uncanny intelligence as its wide eyes start leaking. Frag him.

[futuremrscameron]

Parents Rafe and Bahamas reader, please! 😭

a/n: i ended chronicling their journey through/post pregnancy i hope you mind

bahamian!reader and rafe as parents🧑‍🧑‍🧒🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒

first trimester (1-3 months)

bahamian!reader and rafe do not use condoms, just lube, prep, and vibes so it wasn’t a huge surprise when they saw those two pink lines

it’s hard to say who was more excited, he’s always wanted a family of his own and she loves kids and rafe so that’s literally her dream come true

rafe is worried he’ll be just like his dad or he’ll screw up and no matter how many times bahamian!reader reassures him he can’t shake the feeling that it’s inevitable

bahamian!reader and rafe having arguments over baby names. he thinks he should choose the name if it’s a boy and she should choose if it’s a girl. she tells him to shove it which leads to more arguing. they eventually decide to brainstorm together and pick a name they both agree on

bahamian!reader's morning sickness comes in waves, she'll be fine for three to five says and suddenly she's vomiting for days on end. during these times rafe stays home and watches over her, cooking, rubbing her back as she spews acid, tying her hair back/up, and running a washcloth under the water before placing it on her head

the first person that finds out is wheezie. they didn’t tell her, she was eavesdropping overheard them talking about the baby. she was every excited to be an aunt and asked if the baby has kicked yet. rafe calls her an idiot and bahamian!reader slaps his shaved head

bahamian!reader’s siblings are the next to find out. she calls her siblings over zoom to give them the big news and their reactions range from shocked, confused, and excited. the call turns into two hours of parenting advice that she did eyes because she basically raise them all, making plans for a baby shower, and trying to book tickets to obx

bahamian!reader and rafe buy all the parenting beginner books they can get their hands on. they wanna be ready for anything even though they know that’s impossible they’re excited but scared they don’t wanna fuck the kid up

rafe wants to know the gender but she doesn’t care which causes another argument that ends in them sitting down and having a mini therapy session

rafe tells bahamian!reader he wants a son to undo what his father did to him and to be a better father than he was. she assures him that won’t happen and that he’s a different man

rafe takes so many notes during doctor visits and side eyes the doctors every time they touch her stomach or she winced at the cold jelly

bahamian!reader and rafe cried when they saw their baby on the sonogram. rafe took a picture and sent it to the gc named ‘operation boss baby/storks’ by bahamian!reader

topper and kelce are the next people to find out because rafe is very proud of himself and his hard work like they weren’t fucking raw. they’re shocked but excited to be uncles and congratulate him and bahamian!reader. they argue over who’s going to be the godfather. rafe likes watching them fight so he doesn’t immediately tell them it’ll be probably be both of them and bahamian!reader’s brothers

sarah finds out after bumping into bahamian!reader at a flea market and sees her bargaining with the vendor for a box of fruits and veggies. she talks about needing to eat healthy while subconsciously rubbing her belly and sarah puts two and two together. she asks sooooo many questions, how long have the known, who was the first person they told, how could wheezie keep this from her, have they been to a doctor, how far along is she, do they know the gender?

bahamian!reader shows sarah the sonogram and she sobs because it’s so tiny and she can’t believe that’s her niece? nephew? she doesn’t care she loves it already

bahamian!reader tells rafe that sarah knows but before he can spiral she tells him they need to figure their shit out before the baby comes cause she wants all its aunts to be part of their life. when he calms down she tells him that sarah’s been added to the group chat

bahamian!reader's stops at barry's to make sure he hasn't been selling to rafe and vomits in his toilet while trying to intimidate him. he immediately knows she's pregnant and makes her some tea that helped his sister when she was pregnant. rafe sees her location and freaks out expecting the worst but when he kicks in the door he sees the two eating ice cream and watching old telenovelas

bahamian!reader makes him apologize and promise to replace barry's door

bahamian!reader and rafe agree that staying at tanneyhill is not optimal

rose is the last of the camerons to find out. she overheard wheezie talking to someone on the phone and thought it was sarah but it was actually bahamian!reader who was telling her about their recent doctor visit

bahamian!reader and rafe house hunting every night, determined to find a place for their growing family. the night they finally find the one that fits all their wants and needs is one for the history books

bahamian!reader who’s excited to be a mother but knows there’s a chance she might not survive the birth and writes a letter to rafe expressing her love form him and asking him to stay strong for their child and to keep a strong community around him and their child

second trimester (4-6 months)

bahamian!reader and rafe who move into their new house in the winter right when the second trimester starts

bahamian!reader's food cravings are bahamian delicacies which aren't common in obx so rafe calls her siblings so they can walk him through it. she cries when he makes her conch fritters because they taste exactly the ones from the street vendor by her school

bahamian!reader and rafe start to discuss birthing options which surprises rafe because he thought they were just going to the mainland, he'd been researching all the best hospitals, researching their doctors, and scrolling through reviews.

bahamian!reader wants a home birth and like rafe, already has a plan and has done her research

bahamian!reader who talks to rafe about the possibility of her dying during childbirth and has to explain to him that the mortality rate for black women is high so they have to prepare for the worst possible scenario. he understands but he doesn't wanna think about it and doubles down on their need to give birth in a hospital

bahamian!reader who is excited to be a mother but knows there’s a chance she might not survive the birth and writes a letter to rafe expressing her love for him and asking him to stay strong for their child and to keep a strong community around him and their child. she also writes twenty three letters for her unborn child for every birthday so she can give her advice for most of her life

rafe finally agrees to a homebirth after finding the letters after bahamian!reader fell asleep at his desk while writing letter twenty four. bahamian!reader already has a doula in mind, the woman that helped birth most of her siblings, rafe thinks she's too old to still be in her prime and bahamian!reader says he'll eat his words when he sees her work

bahamian!reader and rafe hire a team of midwives from the mainland to help with the birth and buy a ticket to obx for the doula in the bahamas

rafe hasn't touched coke in almost a year and plans on staying clean for his family. he takes up social drinking which bahamian!reader can already see becoming a problem

bahamian!reader and rafe miss partying sometimes but nothing beats staying home and getting a belly massage while watching reality tv. rafe massages her belly with oils recommended by doctors (and kiara) to help with stomach cramps

they feel the baby kick during one of these late night routines and they both freeze. they look at each other, communicating everything with their eyes, waiting for it to happen again and praying it wasn't a fluke. when it happens again they laugh, cry, and kiss

the pogues of course end up finding out one by one. john b’s first cause he saw sarah buying diapers and thought she was pregnant and sarah had to tell him she wasn’t and that bahamian!reader was the pregnant one. kiara sells bahamian!reader some oils that are often used by pregnant women, jj sees her baby bump while she's at the country club, and pope automatically knows shes pregnant when he sees her house a double burger supreme at the wreck.

rafe is at the country club with kelce and offhandedly mentions a baby shower which kelce takes rafe wanting one. he enlists the help of sarah to throw this baby shower and they go all out

bahamian!reader and rafe find elaborate gender reveals lame so they just go back to the doctor's to figure out the sex

it's a girl! rafe is nervous but happy and bahamian reader is excited. they also find out the due date, bahmian!reader is so glad that their baby's gonna be a summer baby

rafe knows kelce and sarah are planning the baby shower but they refuse to let him in on any of their plans outside of asking him vague questions about due dates and

bahamian!reader who spends time with wheezie when rafe is out with barry doing "business". they get along great, wheezie reminds bahamian!reader of her little sister and bahamian!reader reminds wheezie of sarah

rafe really wants to legitimize his business and break away from his father's shadow but it's easier said than done

bahamian!reader occasionally hangs out with barry when he comes over to discuss business and they just chop it up. rafe is only slightly jealous but he's happy they get along

bahamian!reader and rafe who can't wait to meet their baby girl

third trimester (7-9 months)

rafe gets super protective around this time and bahamian!reader's weakening state does nothing to ease his worries

the doula and midwives land in obx and immediately get to work, putting bahamian!reader on bedrest, setting up shop around their house, and prepping the birthing room

bahamian!reader's boobs are sore more often than not these days. rafe feels so bad because on one hand his baby is in pain but on the other hand mommy milkers

rafe definitely has questionable thoughts about her being a mother like it's doing crazy things to his brain he really hasn't thought of it til now and he can't stop

bahamian!reader and rafe come down to two names but refuse to tell when anyone asks because they don’t want to “ruin the surprise”

kelce and sarah are running the baby shower organizing party like the goddamn navy. they sit the parents to be down and show them the baby shower invitations and try to choose a theme but bahamian!reader is too busy watching rafe make johnny cake and how good he looks shirtless

bahamian!reader gets very homesick the closer her due date gets. she's worried that their daughter will never get to see her home and her family

rafe notices she's feeling down and puts two and two together when she cries into her plate of fried plantains

bahamian!reader and rafe come back home from a spa day booked by kelce and sarah to their house covered in decorations and their closest friends screaming 'surprise'. they knew.

rafe tells bahamian!reader he's got a surprise for her and tells her to answer the door when someone knocks. she opens the door and sees her siblings which causes a ten-minute reunion hug and cry

bahamian!reader kisses rafe all over his face until all of her lipgloss is on him and gets really emotional about him doing this for her and is overcome with love and affection she feels like she's gonna burst

wheezie is a welcomed surprise and rafe wants to ask how she got past rose before seeing her not to far from them. wheezie tells him not to let that stop them from having a great time and to remember this day is about them

kelce and sarah are very proud of their hard work and can be found talking to their guests about how hard it was to put all this together but how they wouldn't trade it for the world

bahamian!reader is the guest of honor so of course she gets a crown, a throne, a scepter and a beaded necklace, she feels like the queen of carnival

bahamian!reader catches up with her siblings, asks them about school, work, romances, old friends, how home is and they ask her what it's like living in a mansion

rafe does not like being away from bahamian!reader for long periods of time so he tries to stay close by as he's bombarded with questions about fatherhood and his relationship from kooks and pogues alike

bahamian!reader squeals when she sees barry and runs to hug him. she's glad that he can still spin her around despite her recent weight gain. he apologizes but she brushes him off, tells him everyone else is just early

rafe tells his drug dealer turned ally and business partner that he's late but barry tells him he's operating on "the white man's" time

the party ends with the "reveal", bahamian!reader hits a piñata and pink candy falls out. her siblings and friends wish them congratulations but bahamian!reader is too tired to continue the festivities so rafe being the good man he is kicks everyone out

bahmian!reader convinces her siblings to stay in obx until she gives birth but can't convince them to stay in the house even after going back and forth about how they wouldn't be burdening them at all

rafe and bahamian!reader spend the rest of the next day opening up the rest of the presents

birth/early year

bahamian!reader wants to go to the beach but not just any beach, one in the bahamas. flying is not an option at this point so rafe promises to take her and the baby to the bahamas when they’re ready

rafe is planning the hell out of the labor from what time contractions are gonna start to charging every device that has a camera so they can remember it

bahamian!reader goes into labor a week early and rafe freaks the fuck out while she's calm as a cucumber. he's worried what this could mean no matter how much the midwives assure him that she's fine and that it's perfectly normal especially considering her family history

bahamian!reader is walking around to help with the pain with rafe following closely behind her. she jokes about going up the stairs and his face going pale is equally hilarious and adorable

bahamian!reader falls to her knees after an excruciatingly painful contraction. rafe is panicking and decides that's enough walking around, lifts her up bridal style, and takes her back to the birthing room

the pool is ready and the midwives tell rafe to put her inside but she grabs his arm with a crushing grip, meets his eyes, and tells him to get her siblings. he reassures her he'll call them but she tells him to go pick them up and while he doesn't wanna argue with her especially at a time like this he doesn't wanna leave her alone and he's certain they'll answer and be on their way before they even hang up but she doesn't wanna risk it and now she's crying so he'll do it

he's pretty sure he's breaking every speeding law and passed many red lights but he can afford it. he doesn't even get to finish telling them she's in labor they're already in the car. he breaks some more laws on his way back but it's worth it because he gets to hold his girl's hand and tell her she's doing great as she pushes

bahamian!reader is happy to be surrounded by family at a time like this although she does threaten rafe with the camera while also telling him to get her good side

she's in labor for fifteen hours and rafe never leaves her side once. he needs coffee? the adults send one of the children to get them some (rafe's not sure about it at first but bahamian!reader's younger brother assures him that they've all been drinking and making coffee since they were five)

at the fifteenth hour, bahamian!reader brings her sisters in close and tells them to always wear condoms as she pushes one last time and the baby's head appears. she cries happy tears and feels rafe kiss her sweaty forehead, the doula and midwives tell her to push five more times

bahamian!reader and rafe cry tears of joy and disbelief at the sight of their little girl. she's taken out of the water by a midlife and cleaned up before being passed to her mother and father

rafe cries when he holds her. he can't believe something so tiny and soft and pure is half of him. he's overwhelmed with so much love and affection already he knows he'll do anything for her, for both of them. he promises her he'll be better than his father

bahamian!reader rests for two hours after delivery giving rafe and her siblings ample time to get to know the baby. her youngest siblings were made to wait outside during the delivery finally get to see their niece and the youngest, lil john, is happy he's no longer the baby (he's still a baby just not thee baby)

everyone wants to know her name but rafe refuses to tell them until bahamian!reader is up

bahamian!reader wakes up to rafe at her side with their baby and feels her heart squeeze at the sight of them. he tells her how proud he is of her and thanks her for giving him this bundle of joy which of course makes her cry

their intimate moment is interrupted by wheezie bursting in and asking where the baby is. rose apologizes for her and is followed by all of bahamian!reader's siblings screaming about "a white lady and her baby"

everyone's happy to see that bahamian!reader's up and alive but they all know the real star is the baby

rafe is very warry of anyone else holding her but when he side eyes bahamian!reader's siblings and wheezie she tells him to knock it off

wheezie wants to hold her but is scared of hurting her. bahamian!reader reassures her that it's not hard and she'll be fine. the baby is the spitting image of rafe but like if rafe was biracial

"what's her name?"

rafe and bahamian!reader smile at each other

“wheezie, meet louise.” she sobs.

she's very honored that they named her after her but worries that she'll be bullied in school for having an "old lady name". bahamian!reader cracks up rafe does not find this funny and takes his baby back

after everyone's gotten a chance to hold and look at the baby rafe kicks them all out because "his girl needs rest"

bahamian!reader says she's not tired but rafe doesn't believe it, he lets her have that lie though and tells her it's just so they can spend time with the baby themselves

bahamian!reader and her siblings say goodbye for what feels like two hours but is shockingly only one. rafe has to remind them that they'll see each other again tomorrow because their hotel is max thirty minutes away

sarah comes to visit and comes with a truckload of gifts and is automatically cooing over the newborn. she's talking about wanting to pinch her little cheeks and eat her up when rafe decides to take his baby back. she pouts and says she was just joking but he's not taking any chances

bahamian!reader was worried that louise wouldn't latch but she was proven wrong when she fed her the first time and she latched on immediately. it was more of a struggle to get her to let go

bahamian!reader is worried about the baby weight and what rafe will think and turns to her sisters for advice which was the wrong idea because they tell her to leave him if he says anything and that they'll take care of him

unsurprisingly, rafe has no problem with the change in her figure and says "onlys cucks and virgins have an issue with that". he's very into it actually, constantly grabbing her stomach and thighs and kissing up and down her neck. constantly being told "don't start something you can't finish bey"

bahamian!reader has a tearful goodbye with her siblings after the first month, she's scared that they won't be able to do it without their help but knows they have lives to return to. they promise her that she'll do great and that they'll see her when she visits

the first couple of doctor visits are easier than either thought until the vaccinations. rafe wants to wring the neck of the doctor giving louise her shots and making her cry. bahamian!reader has to remind him that it's temporary and her health

louise is a daddy's girl to her core thanks to rafe spoiling her rotten. when she's not with her mama she's definitely with her daddy, in his arms, behind his back, on his hip, in a stroller, a carrier, or in a pouch

her first social outing post birth is at the country club with rafe. kelce and topper see her and automatically start gushing about how cute she is. kelce talks in a baby voice and topper plays peek-a-boo with her, rafe would mock them if it was anyone else's brat but he knows his daughter is the cutest girl in the world so he understands

topper says she looks exactly like him down to his cold stare and kelce jokes that she's thankfully got her mother's melanin

first time barry sees baby louise is when he makes a surprise visit. he finds rafe on his balcony and is shocked when he turns around and has a baby strapped to his chest

louise loves barry. she's immediately intrigued by him, reaching for him from her pouch surprising rafe and bahamian!reader when she walks in on louise giggling as she pushes her tiny fingers into the dealer's mouth and pulls at his nose

barry says she's lucky she's cute and jokes that she got all her looks from bahamian!reader. rafe says he's lucky he's holding his baby or he'd knock his lights out

rafe and bahamian!reader go all out for her first christmas even though they know she probably won't remember any of it. winter photoshoots, pictures with mall santas, big family dinners, and loads of gifts. rafe promises her that when she's old enough to remember christmas he'll take her somewhere with snow for christmas

rafe gets bahamian!reader a snow globe of her bar in the bahamas and she gets him a new bike, both are left speechless by the accuracy of the gifts and the care that went into getting them they definitely fuck nasty after louise is asleep

bahamian!reader and rafe have no trouble with getting up in the middle of the night to look after a screaming baby because both their sleep schedules were kind of fucked beforehand

bahamian!reader wants louise baptized and while rafe is not against it he's surprised to hear that bahamian!reader is religious

"so what'd you think the cross necklace was for?"

"aesthetic reasons? i don't know."

"that brain of yours for 'aesthetic reasons'?"

they both agree that sarah should be the godmother only because they agree she's the most mature albeit not the oldest. rafe doesn't want wheezy to have all that pressure and power and bhamian!reader doesn't want the twins, two of her younger sister diana and donna, to fight over who gets to be godmother

bahmaian!reader's siblings watch the baptism through zoom but are still somehow the loudest there. sarah sobs at being named the godmother and while rafe looks disgusted at her snot and blubbering they both know he's happy she's there

louise says her first words a few weeks after the baptism. it's 'mama' which rafe says isn't fair because bahamian!reader has been "conditioning her to say it" they both know he's just jealous she said mama before daddy

he gets his lick back when she takes her first steps and wobble runs into his arms. bahamian!reader calls him a smug asshole and takes her baby from his arms

louise's first birthday is a grand occasion and this time they're all hands on deck. bahamian!reader flew out her siblings once again and they help with the party supplies, gifts, invites, and catering

rafe gets a little choked up during the planning cause he's never had a family like this, not since his mother. bahamian!reader and her siblings pinch his cheeks and cheer him up letting him know that he's family now

louise is dressed up in a big pink dress with a tiara to match because she is a princess. the three-layered cake is a castle and there's a bouncy house, she's having a ball

the girls of the family can't get enough of her from the twins, to fourteen year old mia and wheezie, and of course sarah. bahamian!reader find them moment too cute not to take a picture

bahamian!reader taking pictures of the birthday girl, the party, and all of the attendees, her favorite is the one where louise is messily feeding rafe cake

the baby is tired so rafe puts her down for a nap and stays by her side so bahamian!reader and keep talking to friends and family

bahamian!reader does not believe in the 'terrible twos' and even if she did that's something that happens to other peoples' kids not hers. rafe tells her he was a terror at two and she's like "oh i'm sure". if louise is ever extra bratty she blames it on rafe spoiling her and being her father which he knows is fair but does bring up that she is her mother. he sleeps on the couch that night.

bahamian!reader is so excited cause they can finally take their daughter to the motherland. they take the jet of course because it's the fastest and rafe has to hear 'are we there yet?' from a two year old and a twenty four year old

when they touch down in the bahamas they immediately book it to her childhood home where all her siblings still live and it's like she's been given a second wind. she's zooming everywhere from the beach to street vendors to her bar because she wants to show louise everything. rafe has to remind her that they're spending the summer so there's no need to squeeze everything into one day

bahamian!reader is very excited to take louise to the beach because there's nothing like it. she has to explain to rafe that obx's water is nothing like the bahamas

"bey you should know this, you seen it. ya stood in it!"

"wasn't really thinking about how beautiful the sea was at the time babe."

they of course brought a floatie for louise to sit in and get the full experience despite her pouting and telling them she could swim just fine

bahamian!reader pushes a strand of hair behind louise's ear as she speaks in a soft tone. "we know baby we just want you to be safe because the ocean can get really big. bigger than daddy sometimes."

louise's mouth is agape at the thought of something taller than her daddy. "woah. okay mama."

bahamian!reader's new bikini she bought just for the trip get a lot of attention from non-rafes. rafe comes over and kisses bahamian!reader silly in front of them like they're not there and passes louise to her before strutting off to get a beer. the message is loud and clear

louis is very sad when it's time to leave but they promise the beach is still gonna be there tomorrow. she immediately falls asleep in the ride back to the house

bahamian!reader's siblings offer to teach rafe how to play dominoes. she tries to save him but he tells her he can handle it, and in the beginning he does, he wins a round. the next few rounds are a massacre, he doesn't realize he's being swindled until the last round's over and he's lost five thousand dollars

bahamian!reader scolds her siblings for swindling him and rafe for not listening to her

bahamian!reader and rafe having date nights in the bahamas. she takes him out dancing one night which leads to a hot and heavy make out sesh in the alley. the next week they go skinny dipping and their last week in the bahamas they eat from several street vendors

you already know she's got him trained in taking photos like he has a master in cuntology and minored in photography

exhibit a

exhibit b

exhibit c

as the night comes to an end, they stop at a convenience store before heading home.

"you've never tried jarritos!?"

is it really that hard to believe?"

"a little yeah. nah we're fixing that."

that's how he found himself being dragged through the aisles of a 24/7 convenience store. they stop in front of the horizontal fridges, she grins at the endless options. "well, here it is."

"here it is." he parrots back. she looks back at him and rolls her eyes but the smile tells him everything he needs to know. "what flavor you want?"

"you're the expert, what do you recommend?"

"mango."

"mango it is." he watches her open the fridge and grab two mango bottles. there's something about the flickering dying white light above them, the blue dim light in the freezer, the condensation on the mirror and the hum of the fridge. he's already pulling out his camera when she turns and smiles. click!

she grins, ""okay big man! mr. professional! i see you!" she closes the fridge and faces him, one hand on her hip "was it good?"

"with you? always."

she halfheartedly shoves him and walks past him. "thank you." she stops and looks back at him, "i just wanted good photos."

he shrugs and reaches her in three strides. he wraps one arm around her waist, "yeah but i wouldn't have done it without you."

she smiles, "maybe. maybe not. let's go, my baby's waiting for me." he chuckles as they walk up to the cashier, manned by an old skinny dark skinned man with an unbuttoned shirt and a hat. he's looking down at his phone watching what sounds like a soccer game when she clears her throat.

the old man looks up and does a double take. rafe knows that look well.

he turns off his phone and attempts to straighten himself up, "good evening ma'am. little late to be out by yourself no?"

she glares, "don't try it old man."

the man frowns but squints, "hol'on oh my lord gal i didn't recognize you? how you been?"

"i straight, where's your glasses wilson thomas?"

he shrugs, "ah you know those doctors just tryin' to make money." he swipes the drinks and puts them in bags. "last i heard ya moved to north carolina and had a baby? i said "no way" thought it was just sip sip."

she grins, "yeah, i'm a taken woman now." the man finally acknowledges rafe who gives him a cold menacing smile.

wilson maintains his chivalrous act but the couple sees right through him "oh that's good!"

she chuckles as she swipes her card, "uh huh. goodnight thomas." she grabs rafe's hand and leaves the store as wilson calls after them. "hey stop by any time ya hear! i always got a discount for ya!"

they stop a good distance away from the store, she pulls out both bottles, "sorry 'bout him."

"what's his deal?" rafe asks as he accepts the drink from her hand.

she takes a sip and shakes her head, "old perv."

"oh?"

she shrugs, "always got everything in that shack of his though." she says it like it's no big deal but he notices the way her hand balls into a fist.

he looks down at the drink in his hand and taps the cap before biting the bullet. "do you miss living here?"

she stops drinking and looks at him. she swallows, "what's this?"

he wants to find the right words so it takes him a little longer to reply. "you're- you seem... happier here? do- would you wanna stay here?" she looks out to the direction of the ocean and closes her eyes, taking in the smell and the sound.

"i miss it."

he feels like he's been sucker punched in the gut.

"but i love living with you. and yeah i miss my family but you're my family, you and louise. doesn't matter where we are."

how did he get so lucky? "i love you."

she smiles, "i love you."

bahamian!reader and louise are disappointed when they have to head back to outer banks but bahamian!reader promises to visit when they can and tells her siblings their home is always open to them. they apologize to rafe for swindling him but he tells them it's fine cause he did worse at their ages

louise cries until they're at the airport and she falls asleep and doesn't wake up until they're in the sky

louise may be a daddy's girl but she loves her mama. it only becomes a problem on the first day of pre-k

louise stomps her foot and cries, "i don't wanna go mama!"

bahamian!reader squats down to her level and wipes her tears, "oh i know baby but you wanna get smarter and bigger right."

she shrugs, pouting and refusing to look her in the eye. bahamian!reader feel her heart break, seeing her baby sad is one thing but knowing she's the cause of that pain is another.

"okay. no lies, it's hard. it's gonna be hard for me and your daddy to watch you go through the doors and it's gonna be hard for you to be without us for a while. but i promise you, we wouldn't be doing this if we didn't know it would help you. i can't promise you'll have fun but i promise you'll learn something and the hours will go by faster than you think?"

louise rubs at her eyes and her come to a stop, “really?"

"really. and before you know it me and daddy will be here to pick you up and give you a million kisses and biiiiig hugs." she lightly squeezes her to give her an example of the hugs.

louise giggles. "you're silly mama."

she smiles, "i know." she wipes her daughters tears and gives her one last hug. "i love you baby."

"i love you more mama."

"impossible." she smiles and kisses her forehead signaling for the homeroom teacher to take over.

she grabs louise's hand and tells her to wave bye to bahamian!reader, she does and bahamian!reader waves back as she watches the two disappear into the classroom.

louise is already the next kook princess, only three years old and she has everyone wrapped around her cute little finger

second pregnancy

about 3 years after louise bahamian!reader gets pregnant again. they ecstatic but are worried that louise won't be since she's used to getting all their attention. they both know what it's like to have all the love and spotlight on you and suddenly having to share it with another kid

louise is very happy to hear that she's gonna be a big sister and puts her ear against bahamian!reader's stomach trying to hear them. they tell her she won't be able to hear or feel them for a while

they both agree that the second pregnancy was easier because they know all the tricks and hacks and have made a plan A-Z for the birth. what they weren't prepared for were twins

rafe’s shocked when they find out there having twins but bahamian!reader isn’t. she forgot to tell him that twins run in her family

rafe is officially freaking the fuck out, he doesn't know how he can replicate what he did with louise with twins!

bahamian!reader is surprisingly calm for most of her pregnancy, seeing twins as a challenge that she can take on

louise helps keep her stress as low as she can; she cleans up her toys, helps set the table, and keeps bahamian!reader company when she goes on bedrest later in her pregnancy

rafe and bahamian!reader stick to online shopping for baby materials this time

bahamian!reader's cravings have involved from bahamian food to triple cheese totinos pizza and cans of cool whip

jj jokingly calls her huge one time and makes her cry and rafe would’ve beaten the shit out of him if he wasn’t held back by barry and bahamian!reader forgives him

bahamian!reader and rafe agree to make charles, her younger brother, and barry the twins' godfathers because they are the most qualified despite some of their shadier pasts

bahamian!reader wants to have the twins at a high class fancy mainland hospital because she doesn't risk either of the twins. they find a place that's the combination of a high end hotel and a medical facility/hospital and book their stay

it's not a surprise when they put bahamian!reader on bedrest and while she understands she is still pouty

"i'm not pouting." she pouts from what she's started calling "a fluffy prison".

rafe looks up from massaging her feet and chuckles. "looks like pouting. what do you think lou?"

louise nods and points accusingly, "stop pouting mama?"

"louise!?"

the labor is eighteen excruciating hours but it's all worth it when she sees her babies joel and alice, named after billy joel and rafe's mom. he cries when he hears her name and can't stop kissing her and baby alice as he thanks her for everything

the twins give them a run for their money, not literally of course they could afford the diapers but sleep-wise. when one is down the other is awake which sometimes leads to the other twin being woken up, this goes on for a while until they find a good strategy

louise is a great big sister, always playing with the twins and holding thier hands when they cross the street, cheering them up when they're sad, and sharing her toys

both parents can't believe their lives but they wouldn't trade it for the world

[a1ecmcdowell]

( AFTERCARE ) . . .ㅤㅤTHREE !!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ─ ㅤㅤㅤㅤTHE new rock band in town has some nerve, causing mayhem in the venue next to your studio every night. but how do you stay MAD at the lead singer when he looks at you like that ?

PART TWO. half - past five !ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤMINORS DNI!! includes, fictional locations. fictional bandmates. weed mentions ( brief ). semi-public fingering. finger sucking. praise if u squint & minor degradation if u don't. jensen is wearing rings (that's it that's the whole warning and it's necessary). reminder that this is a slowburn!!

parts will get longer, probably, as relationship develops.

ㅤㅤㅤ─ word count: 3.6k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤprev partㅤㅤㅤ.ㅤㅤㅤmasterlistㅤㅤㅤ.ㅤㅤㅤnext partㅤㅤㅤ.

ㅤㅤA/N. me calling it a slowburn vs them getting raunchy in chap 3 i am A LIARRRR. I STILL SAY IT'S A SLOWBURN ... IT'S NOT ALL SUNSHINE N RAINBOWS ... also what did i say huh. parts wld get longer! almost double last one! i got carried away aftercare!jensen is jus really sexy ok leave me alone.

mirrored glass shakes against the dance studio’s walls, making your reflection warble along with it. one of the mirrors is significantly looser where it’s pressed to the wall, and you just wait for it to fall, because it wants to, doesn’t it? why doesn’t it just give in? 

there’s some pent up frustration in you. clearly. the person —  well, the main one contributing to the literal and metaphorical walls in your life starting to crumble — responsible is just thirty or so steps away. and, of course you’d know that exactly, wouldn’t you? 

you’ve been pacing since you showed up. first outside of the building, when you saw the sunset blvd sign hung up and alight in one of the dingy windows of the venue. it was like a physical sign, really, that jensen was there to stay. much to your chagrin. 

even the instructor at the studio, lindsey, had something to say about your fidgeting. you’d gotten out of class early that day, and what better way to relieve your stress than to go over routines you knew in your sleep? 

except you couldn’t. at least one step in every song you tried to practice, you stumbled on, and with each song you tried again and again, you messed up more, like giving the thought of your failures any attention was exactly what they wanted to burrow in your bones. 

that’s when lindsey, who’d been cleaning off the mirrors in preparation for her upcoming class, said something. “laurel hit you with a hard routine?” 

“no,” you snap without meaning to, guilt washing itself over you the moment the words leave your mouth. she was innocent in your little problems. “just— thinking too much.” 

“i’d argue that the point of dancing is to stop you from thinking.” 

and she was so right that you could have cried. it was infuriating, knowing your problems and what was causing them, and being completely incapable of doing something to stop them. 

you didn’t answer her; nothing productive would come from this conversation when you were too in your head to see outside of your thick skull. instead, you snatched up your phone and clicked play on the sleeping beauty track you’d been working on. 

“why are the mirrors so loose?” lindsey asked, then, incredulity laced in her words, and that was what started your pacing. 

you’d take fifteen of the thirty seven steps from the inside of destiny dance to sunset blvd, and turn back. rinse, repeat. sometimes more than fifteen. most times less. it was so stupid, wanting to pick this fight, knowing it wouldn’t go anywhere. 

but you were at your wit’s end. and maybe, just maybe, you’d started to miss those piercing green eyes that watched you from outside of the venue next door while you practiced. 

masochism is a hell of a thing. 

you don’t even know what caused the breaking point to hit you, but it did, probably an hour into your relentless back and forth with yourself. and suddenly, you were pushing open the glass doors to sunset blvd.

for once, it’s dead silent. but you know that they’re all here, all four members of whatever-the-hell band, whatever-the-hell their names were. the parking lot had four cars in it.

it’s easier like this — empty stage, empty seats — to stomp your aggravated little ass up to the side of the stage. there’s a couple of steep steps leading up to the stage, and your steps echo on the hollow wood of each. 

your hand closes around the tall, dusty curtain leading backstage, when someone else shoves it back fiercely with all of the confidence of someone who thinks they’re alone. 

you jump, but the person screams. a high, piercing scream that echoes around the ( admittedly pretty good ) acoustics of the room.

it’s a guy — lanky and tall with long hair to his shoulders. he holds a hand over his chest, knuckles white from how tightly he’s gripping onto the ripped band t-shirt he wears. metallica. at least you’d heard of that one. 

“jesus christ,” he wheezes out, and you can’t help the way your eyes drop to the blunt in his fingers at his side. surely smoking weed wasn’t good for him. 

you keep that to yourself, though. you did just scare the life out of him, after all. “where is everyone?” 

he blinks a couple of times, and you visibly watch his eyes focus on your face. recognition flares in his deep brown eyes. “our local little dancer, here to grace us again.” 

you roll your eyes. “i have a name—” 

“yeah, yeah, but you never asked for mine, so i’m sure as shit not asking for yours.” he raises the blunt to his parted lips, sucking in a deep inhale. he says, around the exhale of smoke he releases, “reggie, by the way.” 

oh. this was reggie. the little pissant that tried to blow your eardrums when you first showed up here. last time you saw him, you didn’t pay much attention to him. 

you still weren’t going to, unfortunately for him and the way his mouth opens to keep talking to you. 

“guess we’re even.”

reggie grimaces and at least has the decency to look apologetic. you take a step forward to pull the curtain back again and step backstage when he speaks again.

“noa’s in the ladies room. steven’s in the men’s, with—” 

jensen. god, what the hell was wrong with you? there was no reason for your heart to stutter at the sheer thought of him. 

this was your problem, after all — the one buried beneath the ones that you tried to claim as your problems instead: you wanted to see him. he hadn’t been outside consistently, not even when you were leaving. there were a couple of days in that week where you didn’t see him, only knew he was there at all by the number of cars in the back parking lot. 

you say a quick thank you before you finally do step underneath the lifted edge of the heavy curtain, a puff of dust clouding in your lungs the moment you let go of it. 

you break into a ticklish cough as it coats your tongue and the inside of your mouth, too focused on trying to catch your breath again to pay attention to where you’re walking. 

“what, you take a hit of reggie’s blunt but not mine?” he says, his voice still as deep as you remember, smile just as chastising. “didn’t know you were into scrawny guys. never stood a chance, did i?” 

then, and only then, do you manage to shoot a glare up at him. and of course, jensen is smirking, dimples embedded in his cheeks, eyes practically glimmering with the taunt. 

no— they were really glimmering. the green was so much more pronounced today, with the whites of his eyes stained pink. oh, hell. 

“it’s dust.” 

jensen whistles lowly under his breath, leaning back in a mock gesture of surrender, before he settles back fully on his feet. “yyyeeah, reggie’s shit is shit.” 

“no—” your face flushes, both with a twinge of embarrassment and irritation. “i mean, it’s literally— like, it’s literally dust. this place is covered in dust.” 

jensen laughs, loudly and heartily, and it makes your toes curl in your pointe shoes. you really were a wreck; reduced to rubble by this man whose sole purpose, it seemed, was to get on your last nerves.

“s’what happens in abandoned places, princess,” he says slowly and drawn out, like he was talking to a toddler. you bristle at it, nose twitching, and that only makes him laugh a bit harder. “oh, come on. thought we were friends now.” 

your mouth closes, then opens, and closes all over again. friends. you certainly weren’t aware of when that happened, especially since— 

“you haven’t been outside in three days.” god, could your voice sound any smaller? your face flames with embarrassment, not having wanted that to be the thing you say to him in response, but what could you do now? 

jensen’s smile softens. softens! as if you could feel any less mortified. “my pretty princess is missing me, is she?” 

“oh, go to—” 

“hell?” he finishes, eyebrows shooting up as the word leaves his mouth. “only if you come on down with me.” 

you can’t even bristle again before he’s crowding your space. one step forward from him, and two steps back from you. it’s not a very wide hallway, though, and before you knew it, you were trapped.

trapped in the cage of his strong arms, back to the brick wall. this close, you can see the swirls of ink adorning his skin, black wisps of fire and symbols that you don’t know. his hands come up to properly cage you in; palms flat on the wall by your head. 

“you want to, don’t you?” he murmurs, his gaze dropped to your lips. everywhere his eyes land, your skin burns. he’s fire, and you’re ice, and you’re completely molten, melted at his feet. “c’mon, princess,” he says just as softly, “tell me what you want.” 

the words to leave are right there on your tongue. they’re right there, heavy and palpable, and yet they don’t leave the confines of your closed lips. 

jensen’s smile widens, becoming more devilish than sweet. his breath reeks of alcohol and weed this close, but there’s the faintest underlining of mint. your senses are turned up too high to handle this properly — and he can tell. “oh, i see,” his voice is so deep and rough that it makes your skin tremble, “my pretty girl wants me to show her, does she?” 

no, you try to say, but it’s stuck just like the rest of your protests, right there behind your teeth. if only you had the strength to lift your arms and tug your jaw open, to force the words out, because suddenly your head is nodding. 

“good girl,” he says, and one of his hands slips from the wall to your chin, index and thumb holding it between his fingers as he tilts it up to meet your eyes. “but i’m sure you’re used to hearing that, aren’t you?” 

his voice is soft and rough at once, like he’s sharing painful secrets right in her ear. his tone, though, is full of a venom that you don’t want to think about. shame is already so thick on your skin that it feels like paint; the last thing you want is to let his chastising words get to you just as much as your desire for him. 

“pretty,” jensen continues as his hand slips lower, running over the thin fabric of your leotard. it’s innocent at first, the backs of his fingers running down your shoulder. still, it lights you up as if he’d just kissed you. “good. innocent.” 

his hand slips further down, his ring-adorned knuckles tracing over your breasts. they peak beneath that little brush of a touch, nipples aching against the skin-tight of the leotard. 

“i was sure that even good girls get tired of being good,” he mumbles, his face inching closer to yours, nose to nose. “but then i met you, and you just can’t help it, can you? that incessant need to be good?”

jensen’s head drops into the crook of your neck, his facial hair on your sensitive skin making your breath hitch. his laugh is breathless in your ear, against your shoulder, as he presses his lips on the space above your collarbone. 

and his hand keeps moving. it outlines a straight line down the center of your breasts, down your sternum, and stops just below your navel. 

“or maybe…” he trails off, his other hand dropping from the wall and grasping at your skirt, tugging it up in one quick movement. it draws a shuddering gasp from your parted, dry lips, another thing that makes him chuckle. “maybe you do it because you like it. is that it, princess?” 

you can’t even bring yourself to answer him. your skin feels hot and alive, like electricity dances through your veins. livewires sparking beneath the surface of your skin. 

your hands, though, reach for the leather flaps of the jacket on his shoulders. you need something to touch to keep you from slipping too far into the abyss of this. 

his fingertips brush across the thin strap of fabric covering your throbbing, sensitive pussy, the heat in your lower stomach burning and crackling and tight. you can feel the edges of his fingertips grazing the edge of the inseam of the leotard. “yeah, i thought that was it,” he rasps, another of those breathless laughs pressing into your collarbone, “of course the good girl likes to be told she’s a good girl.” 

one of his hands still holds the edge of your skirt up, and the other sweeps the thin fabric away, letting cool air dance across your exposed, slick cunt. 

your mouth finally finds the words it wants to say, and they stumble out in a quick succession, an unintelligible sentence. “jensen— there… people—” 

“reg is off his ass,” he mutters, his mouth still grazing and nipping at the sensitive skin of your collarbone, “steven’s in the fuckin’ bathroom doin’ lines still, and noa’s probably in the bathroom doin’ him.” 

his eyes flick up to meet yours, the green now just a thin ring around the deep intensity of his pupils. “no people around, pretty princess,” he assures, his lips curling into that teasing smile of his — though now, it’s much softer. 

you barely get a chance to acknowledge any of his words before his calloused thumb slips between the slick folds of your pussy. you stutter out a gasp as the electricity of his touch travels your lower stomach and up, up, up, sending your heartrate fluttering quicker.

jensen massages the sensitive, swollen nub of your clit, his eyes locked onto yours, gauging your reaction to his painstakingly slow circles. his teeth hold his bottom lip captive between them. somehow, his eyes look even more blown now that your gazes are locked. 

you try, you do, and it’s an honorable effort, to keep any sound from slipping out of your lips in response to the tantalizing grazes of his hand between your legs. but a muffled whimper starts low in your throat and shudders out, and it’s enough to encourage him to keep going. 

“little louder, baby, i can’t hear you,” he whispers with his nose pressed against yours. he uncurls his fingers, letting you feel every brush of his fingertips as they drag across the expanse of your spread pussy. “i know it feels good, baby, can feel how fucking wet you are.” 

it’s cruel, the way he can touch you like this and say such things about it, while you’re completely spread out for him and at his mercy. “fuck you,” you seethe through your teeth, though it holds none of the malice you wish it did — instead coming out like a whimpering whine. 

“uh uh, not yet,” he laughs breathlessly across your face, and his long middle finger stops at the dip of your entrance, traces the wetness dripping from it, smears it further up your spread pussy. “you’re not ready for that yet, pretty girl. and i wanna make you feel good. don’t you want it to feel good? when you do get to have me?” 

he talks to you like you’re something innocent, something he’s more than happy to break and ruin. chastising and seductive all in the same breath. jensen doesn’t even give you the time to answer before he pushes that same finger inside of you. 

he’s wearing a ring. you didn’t even see the ring when you were talking to him — admittedly, you were only looking at his swollen lips, darkened eyes, sweaty hair hanging just below his ears. but you felt it now; his already thick finger stretches you out, and the ring adds to it the moment he’s deep enough inside of you. 

it’s a shockwave of pleasure all at once. you don’t even try to stifle the moan this time, your head falling forward to knock against his. “there she is,” he praises, his voice much deeper and raspier than it was moments before. “i knew you had it in you.” 

that’s when he starts to move. it’s still only that one finger pushed to the hilt of his hand inside of you, but the ring scrapes the edges of your walls with every thrust he pushes it into you. the pace is slow, deep, like he was making love to you with nothing but his hand. 

of course he wasn’t, though. jensen didn’t seem like the type to make love, and the point is proven when his fingers curl, and stars erupt in your vision. 

“god,” you choke on the word, gasping and panting on his face, your breaths mingling with how close you are. 

jensen grins. he’s always fucking grinning, like he knows exactly the effect he has on the people he touches. “mmm, close, but not my name.” 

“go — to hell.” 

he pumps his finger in and out of your soaked pussy, so hard that the sound of each wet movement punctuates each moan you loosen. “told you already,” he grunts, pulling his ringed finger out of you just enough to where you can only feel the tip of it teasing your stretched entrance. “not without you.” 

there’s never any warning with him, never any indication of what he’s going to do before he’s already knuckles deep into it. and he adds a second finger, another ring adorning it, and pumps the both of his fingers deep into your pussy. 

it’s too much all at once. the feeling of his fingers curling inside of you like quotation marks to each of his thrusts, the fact that there were three people scattered around the rest of the small building, potentially seconds from walking out into the hall and seeing the debauchery he was inflicting on you— 

you hook your leg up and curl it around his waist, giving him a better angle to keep fingerfucking you, and for you to be able to take him deeper, harder, faster—

the invitation isn’t lost on jensen, either. the hand that’d been holding your skirt up releases it and hooks under your thigh to keep it held there. “look at you,” he grunts between his clenched teeth, “bein’ so fucking good for me.” 

your throat feels raw from the effort of trying to keep your voice down, trying to keep every single noise clamped behind the barriers of your tight lips. and it’s too much. and you can’t even really think straight, not with the cool metal rings so tantalizing on your inner walls, with his thick fingers so deep you can feel the tips teasing your cervix. 

your lips part on a shuddering moan, finally uncaging the desperate, guttural sounds that’d been building since he started to touch you. the tightness in your lower stomach coils, tighter and tighter; a snake capturing its prey, a girl clenching tightly around the fingers that thrust into her. 

for once, jensen is dead silent, and you really wish he’d talk, even if it was just to continue teasing you, because all you can hear in this hallway is the gushing sound of his fingers in you and your crescendoing moans, and—

your head falls back against the brick wall behind it, the thud hardly registering in your mind as your leg tightens around his waist, as his fingers keep up there relentless pace, as you pulse around his knuckles and against his palm in tune to your heartbeat.

it’s overwhelming, how fast you fall apart right there in his hands. “fuck— jensen—” your body goes still and taut for a second before it goes completely boneless, your face burying in the smoky smelling leather of his jacket. even as your pussy throbs around him, even as you’re still so sensitive that your body is practically trembling, he doesn’t relent. 

not for another ten or so seconds. and you do count, because it starts to feel like a punishment instead of for pleasure, even as you grind your hips down to take him deeper. 

his fingers slip out of you, wet and glistening with your juices. his eyes are somehow more glazed than they were, still rimmed red and glimmery. “open up, princess,” he rasps, the smile on his face more lazy than the smirk he wore earlier. 

who are you to deny him anything right now? you barely know your name, your legs numb, your heart racing from the comedown. 

“good girl,” he praises lowly once your lips pop open again. jensen pushes his wet fingers inside your mouth, pushing down on your tongue to push your mouth open wider. 

tasting yourself around the salty smoke flavor of his fingers is almost enough to make your legs buckle. his eyes watch you intently, glancing between your eyes and your mouth. 

and maybe you are sick of being good. maybe he was right all along, with every word you deemed chastising and prodding. it only takes a blink for you to close your lips around his fingers and swirl your tongue around them in your mouth, around the rings. 

“goddamn,” he chuckles, breathless and exhaling. “maybe you are more fun than you let on.” 

you didn’t know, then, that this was the worst possible thing either of you could do. because now, you knew he’d let you in when you came around, and now he knew how easy you were to break.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤFEEDBACK & REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! < 3

tags! @happyladyduck, @casatoan, @mo0nwalker, @manicjk, @stereotypicalbarbie, @inpraise0fbacchus, @fitxgrld !

[arc-misadventures]

Super Powers

Sun, Neptune, Jaune, and Ren, are hanging out, just chilling on a bench on the school grounds.

Sun: Hey guys...?

Jaune: Yeah...?

Sun: Say if we got superpowers, what do you think we would do...?

Neptune: Whoa... that's one hell of a question dude...

Ren: Like... comic book superpowers, or... anime superpowers?

Neptune: Anime...

Jaune: Totally anime... comic book super powers are lame...

Sun: Cool... So.. what would we do?

Jaune: Well... we would do one of two things if you ask me...

Sun: What...?

Jaune: We'd fight... not because we hate each other, but because we want to...

Ren: Just fight for the heck of it...?

Sun: Yeah... we're just testing out all are awesome moves on one another, and seeing what we could do...

Neptune: That sounds awesome...

Jaune: We would have such an epic fight... like... like an animated stickman fight...!

Sun: Dude...!

Neptune: Duuuude...!

Ren: That sounds AMAZING...!

Neptune: I can totally imagine the whole fight in my head... it looks amazing...

Sun: Ren could pull off so many cool ninja moves... dude I want to see it...!

Ren: What the second thing we would do...?

Jaune: i don't know... probably something stupid...

SNR: ...

Sun: Yeah... I'd buy that...

Neptune: We would make absolute fool out of ourselves...

Ren: Ha-hahaha... I can totally see, Jaune flying, and he starts throwing up...!

Jaune: I end up doing a vomit bombing run all over people...!

SNJR: Hahahahaaaaaaaa...!

~~~

Weiss: Are they okay?

Yang: Are... Are they high?

Nora: Oh no... they've been drinking, Ren's green smoothies...

Ruby: Ren's smoothies can do that to people...?

Nora: Yeah... Pyrrha's semblances when crazy when she got high from, Ren's green smoothies...

Pyrrha: I'm sorry!

Weiss: Is there anything we can do...?

Nora: No, we just have to wait until it wears...?!

SNJR:

RWBYNP: ...?!

Weiss: The hell?! When did they...?!

Yang: Shhh!

Ruby: It's just getting good!

Weiss: Uhhh...? B-Blake...?

Blake: Fuck, that's so hot...

Weiss: Okay... But, who are all those...?

Nora: Shut up, Weiss.

Weiss: Excuse me?!

Pyrrha: This is so awesome...!

Weiss: ...?!

Weiss: ...

Weiss: This is pretty cool to watch.

///

There's... There's just something oddly enthralling about stickmen fight scenes... Don't you think so?

[aroninshonour]

With the addition of drs2pt2 out now I wanna add to this, or change it up a little (slight spoilers for drs2pt2 ahead btw)

We all know that Ras basically kicked his ass out after losing and what not, so, I wonder.

I wouldn't imagine he go back to the administration, probably wouldnt end well anyways

So maybe rather than him being forced to go with the ninja due to a mission with the agency, maybe he just. Maybe he goes willingly.

Hear me out.

Yes. He knows that these are the people who he had to fight in the tournament, the ones who told him that they knew him.

And now here they are, in the middle of no where, and they are asking, no practically begging him, to go with them.

"Please Jay. I know you don't know us but you're wandering around in the middle of no where. Limited resources. So please. Come with us."

And he sits and weighs his options.

"...Okay."

Im sure it wouldn't actually be that easy, and a lot would probably happen before it even gets to this point. Maybe a fight? Who knows.

But I imagine he'd feel...some kind of connection with them. something alluring him in. Something that's telling him, "Its okay. You're safe here. They won't hurt you."

Of course, he'd still start in distrust. After everything, it's gonna take a bit for him to trust anyone.

But eventually, he'd warm up into it. Probably fall in love with Nya all over again while he's at it

That's abt all I got lmao

He'd still have found his family again, just in a different way than what I was initially saying :)

...

Maybe I should write this -

Was talking abt this on discord and wanted to share here as well

I genuinely don't want Jay to get his memories back.

I want him to slowly rebuild his trust with the others, rekindle relationships, rekindle what he had with Nya, hear the stories of the past battles and wars and stupid nights he can't recall even a little bit, I want him to feel as if he's discovering everything again for the first time and in a way he would be.

And most importantly I want him to feel like he's found home, family, and friends...just one more time.

Forgetting about the battle no one actually remembers anymore that did such a number on him yet he can still feel the things it left behind, he can feel it in the scars that coexist on his body. He wonders where they came from...but at the same time, to him at least, it doesn't matter.

Because he found his family again. He's home.

But before he can feel any of that he absolutely HAS to start with distrust. His misplaced trust in his former allies. And the ONLY reason he had gone with them was for the sake of his mission as an agent, because if he didn't then he wouldn't be able to complete it. I want him to not have a choice in going with them and I want him to do his best to keep distance but in the end fails and realizes he wasn't meant for the administration, he never was. He was meant to be here. At the monestery. On the bounty. With his family.

[rookinthecrownest]

Bedtime Stories for a Demon, Night 1: The Sleeping Princess (Lucanis x Rook Fanfic)

“Lucanis?”

Some assassin, he thinks bitterly, as Rook’s soft voice breaks him out of his reverie. She finds him sitting at the dining room table, staring at the fire with a cup of now cold coffee in his hands. He didn’t hear her come in.

Caterina would’ve given him at least ten lashes with her cane for letting someone sneak up on him like that.

His mind, lately, was a restless sea. Waves of him and Spite crash over each other, fighting to rise above the din. Fighting for control. And like the moon pushes and pulls the tides at night, Spite’s influence becomes harder to ignore in the waning hours of the evening. Sometimes it was hard to pay attention to anything but Spite rattling the bars of the prison that was Lucanis’ mind.

On most nights he finds himself alone in the pantry, or the dining room, with only a flickering fire and the demon in his head for company. Until a few moments ago that is.

“Rook” he manages a pleasant, tired smile while turning towards her. “You’re up late”

She shrugs and pulls up a chair beside him, now rimmed in the warm orange glow of the fire. “Thought you might want some company – you know, after the whole…” she gestures vaguely in his direction, and he doesn’t need any further elaboration.

He remembers feeling tired, so tired after their last mission. A bone-weariness that only came with the kind of world-ending threats they were becoming entirely too accustomed to handling. Three cups of his strongest brew hadn’t been enough to curb the knife’s edge of sleep deprivation. He remembers sitting upright in his cot and closing his eyes for just a moment.  Then, he was in the basement hallway with the Vir’Evas Eluvian, surrounded by Taash, Harding, Rook - and the terrible realization that Spite had taken him for a walk.

Perhaps it was his brutal training at the hands of his grandmother, perhaps it was his own stubbornness, but he hated to make them worry. Especially Rook, who already carried the weight of the world on her small shoulders and the voice of an Elven god in her head. Dealing with a sleepwalking abomination was probably the last thing she needed to be worried about.

“I’m fine” he lies, and stares down at his coffee. His grip on the handle of his mug tightens. Rook’s bright green eyes flicker down to his hands, and he knows she doesn’t believe his words any more than he does. “As I said before – Spite is my burden to bear. Please, go get some sleep, Rook”

Her face falls just a little at that.

“Would if I could” she starts, “You won’t sleep, I can’t sleep – I figure we might as well be night owls together. But if I’m bothering you, I’ll go”

He doesn’t know her well enough yet to catch if she is lying about not being able to sleep – but he imagines she has plenty of her own worries big enough to keep her up at night.

When he doesn’t answer, Rook moves to get out of her chair.

Lucanis quickly waves her back down into her seat.

“No, no, no bother at all” He raises his cup to her in a cheer, “I’ll be glad for the company”

He swirls the cold coffee in his cup, before looking back up at Rook.

“Coffee? I’m going to make a fresh pot” he asks, rising from his place. Rook gives an appreciative nod, the corners of her eyes crinkling with another smile.

“I’d love some, thanks”

Rook is silent until his return from the kitchen, with a cup of freshly made coffee – real coffee, in each hand. None of that instant boiled bean water that Neve had a habit of making.

As he hands her the cup, he notices something in her lap that wasn’t there before. A small journal. Its bindings were tattered and frayed, the colour had faded from what he presumed was a bright crimson to a more muted shade of red, and the pages were yellowed with time.

“What is that?” he asks, taking his place in front of the fire once more.

Rook sets the steaming cup of coffee aside on the table, so she can begin flipping through its worn pages. A musty, acrid smell like old mothballs hangs in the air, and for a brief moment, he’s a boy in the Dellamorte estate’s library running wild between tall, marble bookshelves seeking mischief and knowledge in equal measure.

“My father’s old journal” Rook thumbs through the pages more carefully now, and her voice grows soft.

“He was a Bard in his youth. Toured all over Thedas with his troupe. As he went, he wrote down stories from across the continent” She leans her chin against her hand and smiles fondly at the little book in her hand. “Never imagined he’d be collecting bedtime stories for a future daughter”

There was a softness in her voice that he was not accustomed to hearing, tinged with the barest echo of grief. This is the first time in the few weeks they had known each other that Rook mentioned any kind of family. He notes her use of past tense and decides not to pry, much as he finds himself growing ever curious about his new companion.

Companions.

Rook looks down at the book again before meeting his eyes. They were almost pleading.

“I thought... maybe you’d like to hear one. You know, to help pass the time?”

He thinks of refusing, of telling her she needs to rest, that there is little sense in them both being sleep deprived because of Spite. There is something in her eyes that stops him from turning her down. An emotion he cannot quite name but feels akin to longing. Not quite sadness, not quite nostalgia – somewhere in between.

He quickly comes to the realization that this may be as much for her, as it is for him. Lucanis remembers the comfort that reading old stories brought him. He can picture, in striking detail, the book on Wyvern physiology he stole from the Dellamorte library as a child. He knows the contents of each page by heart, because he can still hear Illario's grumbling about wanting him to shut up about Wyverns echoing through his distant memories. He would read it by candlelight until late in the evening, ready to extinguish the flame and hide the book under his pillow at a moment’s notice if Caterina came by.

He decides that if he can help her by simply listening to a story, he will. Rook spends most of her free time trying to fix everyone else’s problems. Always flitting to and from each room in the Lighthouse like a hummingbird, fretting over the team. The Crows were already indebted to her efforts against the Antaam, and she made it a point to help him with both Spite and tracking down Zara. With all that in consideration, he feels it would be a rather poor show to refuse. That and another feeling he didn’t have a name for, keeps him from rejecting her company tonight.

“Alright” He sighs and takes a sip of his coffee before leaning back in his chair. “Let’s hear it”

Lucanis ignores the skipped beat in his chest as she beams widely.

She claps her hands together and straightens in her chair. “Wonderful!”

“So, what tale will you tell tonight?”

“Have you ever heard the old Tevene story about the Sleeping Princess?” she asks excitedly, crossing her legs in her chair like an impatient child about to be served dessert. She’s practically oscillating with excitement in her seat.

Lucanis smiles at that.

“No, I can’t say I have”

“It’s one of my favourites” she gushes, picking up the journal again and flipping to the correct page. Ringlets of rich brown hair sweep over her shoulder as she does so, and he decides to focus on his coffee instead, before he’s caught staring.

“Aha” her brow furrows as she quickly scans the contents of the journal. “Alright, here we go”

Rook sets the journal aside once more and takes a quick sip of her coffee. He doesn’t miss the way she savours the brew. He knew she enjoyed coffee from their meeting at Café Pietra with Illario, but it was nice to know she appreciated his coffee as much as theirs.

He raises an eyebrow when Rook starts cracking her knuckles – and her neck, then readies her hands in the same pose he’s seen her use for magic.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll see” she grins conspiratorially.

“If you’re about to throw a fireball at me – “

“Relax, relax” Rook shakes her head, and whispers “Magic has more uses than fighting”

He can feel Spite stirring in the dark recess of his mind and does his best to ignore it.

Rook’s delicate hands begin glowing with blue light, and to his astonishment, a moment later she conjures a fully realized image of a castle, floating in the space between them. He can see the spires, turrets, and even the wrought-iron gates in clear, astonishing detail. Lucanis leans forward to inspect the castle as it rotates in mid-air, giving him views of every side. Even the masonry and statues have an immaculate degree of realism. It was almost as if she had taken a real castle and shrunk it down.

“How …?” He is not usually one to be rendered speechless, but it was not every day he is exposed to new types of magic - and when he was, historically, that hasn't always been a good thing for him. Spite rumbling under his skin reminds him of that.

“I learned to do it back in my Circle days. It was my thesis work – the use of the Fade to create projections of objects from one’s minds” her pride in her castle falls when she continues to explain, “The senior enchanters thought it a waste of effort and I barely passed my final year – they couldn’t see a use for it past getting their children to sleep. I suppose if magic can’t be used to some terrible, destructive end, it gets relegated to a novice’s thesis statement to be buried in the Circle’s archives and never touched again”

“It’s incredible Rook” he breathes. The words leave his mouth before he can stop them. He’s not sure if it’s the warmth of the fire, or something else, but he swears a faint tinge of red creeps from her neck up to her ears.

He desperately wants to reach out and touch the castle, but keeps his hands firmly on his coffee cup, worried he may ruin her concentration.

Rook’s eyes crinkle with her smile, wide and genuine. He’s never seen her smile like that, and it feels utterly disarming.

He brings his coffee cup to his lips again, about to take a sip.

“Thank you, Lucanis” Her voice is sweeter than the coffee on his lips.

“You’re welcome” is all he manages to choke out, leaning away from the castle to give himself some distance to regain control of his faculties.

Rook clears her throat, “I ahh, guess I should get on with the story, hmm?”

Lucanis nods and takes another sip of coffee, feeling the warmth spread through him but he is not entirely certain it’s from the coffee alone.

“I would say you’re burning moonlight, but given where we are …”

He smiles when Rook chuckles at his terrible attempt at humour, and he appreciates it even if it is forced on her end, but it feels genuine enough. Everything about Rook was genuine.

Her focus returns to the castle in front of them.

“Once upon a time, in a land far away, there was a small kingdom”

She waves her hands in a fluid motion and the solitary castle morphs into a bird’s eye view of that same castle perched on top of a hill, overlooking a small village.

“And in that kingdom, there lived a King and a Queen, much beloved by their people.”

The castle and village disappear. They are now replaced with two figures sitting on matching thrones upon a simple dais. In the thrones sit a man and a woman, each with a crown decorating their foreheads.

“The King and Queen longed desperately for a child of their own and had tried for many years to make it so. ‘Would that we had a child!’, the King cried, and yet, their child remained a dream.”

As she said those words, the mouth of the king moved in tandem.

He can’t imagine the amount of concentration it must be taking to accomplish telling a story, maintaining an illusion, and making an illusion talk. He continues to sit there in awe, with only his training keeping his jaw from hanging on the floor.

The corner of her lips pull down into a slight frown.

“The Queen would not accept the words of her physician, who told her bearing a child was not possible for her, for there was a sickness in her womb that would prevent it”

The image morphed into the Queen hunched over on the floor, on all fours, sobbing. It looks so real he is convinced he could hear her agonized cries.

Now, the Queen has traded her crown for a traveller's cloak. She floats aimlessly in the air between them, the cloak billowing on an invisible wind.

“The Queen, unbeknownst to the King, set off to seek the knowledge of a Spirit from the Fade. When she eventually finds one,” Rook pauses and waves her left hand to bring forth the image of an amorphous spirit in front of the Queen. “She wastes no time asking the Spirit if it could help her conceive a child”

The spirit continues to float above the figure of the queen, who is now on her knees looking up at it, hands clasped as if in prayer.

“The Spirit asks if she is prepared to do anything to have a child. The Queen fervently answers that she would give up anything – do anything for an heir.” The figure of the Queen bows down to the Spirit in deference. “Satisfied, the Spirit gives her knowledge of a ritual that could provide her with a child. It would take several mages and the sacrifice of an innocent, but that was the only way to cure the sickness from her womb and carry a child. ‘Do this, and your child will grow in grace and beauty. Hair spun in gold, lips as red as the rose. She will walk with spring time wherever she goes. Her song will put nightingales and larks to shame’”

Blood magic. Figures this story comes from Tevinter.

“But be warned” The Spirit holds up a hand, “Should the Princess ever prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and draw blood, she will die”

The figure of the Queen hurriedly nods, before disappearing into nothing.

“The Queen quickly returns to the kingdom and enlists the help of her council of Magi”

The figure of the Queen returns to its original appearance. She is now surrounded by seven cloaked figures, each carrying a stave in their hands. The form of a young woman is chained, on her knees, in the middle of them all.

“They had their sacrifice, and the knowledge on how to perform the ritual” Her voice is quiet, almost strained.

The figures appear to be chanting now. The faint blue glow of the form of the young woman slowly turns red, with some concentration on Rook’s part. A moment later, the form is swallowed by red light and disappears. Veins of red climb like vines and weave their way into the figure of the Queen, settling on her stomach, before fading from sight.

Rook’s frown deepens and her brows draw closely together. The figures of the King and Queen morph into an embrace. And quickly after, they are sitting on their thrones, side-by-side, with the Queen’s belly swollen with child.

“The King had no idea about the ritual. He was ecstatic, of course, at the prospect of finally having a child” Rook said. “And so he didn’t question it when the Queen asked that every spinning wheel in the kingdom be burned to ensure her safety”

The pair disappear, and now, a large pile of spinning wheels, burning with blue flames, takes their place.

It disappears soon after, and the image of a baby is conjured in its place. She is sleeping soundly in an intricately carved wooden cot.

“The Princess, who they called Rosaea, was perfect. And just as the Spirit had said, she would indeed grow in grace and beauty” The form of the baby changes to that of a young woman, with long, flowing hair and a beautiful face. “She was loved by all her people, for she had a kind heart. She lived happily with her parents and was adorned of gifts from her people, the nobility, and suitors alike. But things would not stay that way for long.”

The image of the princess disappears. The scene shifts to the King, Queen, and the Princess together at the gates of the Kingdom.

“Urgent business with another Kingdom called the King and Queen away, and so the Princess was left to wander the castle by herself”

Rook waves a hand and the Princess walks alone, before coming to the form of an old woman hunched over a spinning wheel.

The princesses mouth moves in tandem with Rook’s words.

“You there, madam” The princess says, pointing to the wheel. “What is it that you are doing?’ She asks, for she had never seen a spinning wheel before”

The figure of the old woman turns towards the princess and beckons her closer, “I am spinning, dear girl’, it answers” The figure of the princess moves closer to the spinning wheel. She leans over it, and asks, “What is that thing that twists around so briskly?”

No sooner had she said the words and taken the spindle into her hand, there is a flash of red light, and the figure of the princess is on the floor. Not dead, but sleeping, for he can see the rise and fall of her chest.

The old woman first morphs into the spirit from before, the one that spoke with the Queen, and then it changes again into a twisted creature - all horns, claws, and jagged edges. One he was all too familiar with. A demon.

“The Spirit the Queen had spoken with was no Spirit at all, it was a Terror demon in disguise.” Rook explains, waving her hand through the illusion of the girl and the demon towering over her, erasing it from existence.

It is at this moment that Lucanis realizes he’s forgotten to breathe. He draws a deep breath, and leans forward, resting his forearms on his legs. His coffee sits abandoned on the table, as does Rook’s. Spite is practically vibrating behind his eyes.

“Well, go on” he gestures at her.

Rook grins, evidently satisfied with her work. “Impatient, are we?”

Lucanis smirks, “Spite wants to know how it ends”

“And you’re not the least bit curious?” She crosses her arms in front of her chest, looking at him doubtfully.

He distracts himself with a sip of coffee, miraculously still somewhat warm. “I might be”

Rook chuckles and shakes her head, mirroring him by bringing her own coffee to her lips. She licks her lips and sighs, and he tries to look anywhere but her mouth. For a moment, he finds himself preoccupied with his own shoes.

“Sorry, I was feeling a bit parched there. On with the story” She rings out her hands and brings them back into position. That familiar blue glow envelops them again. He feels its safe to meet her gaze again.

“The Terror Demon’s ritual didn’t just affect the Princess, it affected the whole Kingdom. One by one, everyone fell into a deep slumber, just like the princess”

He watches intently as the castle courtyard morphs into view between them. Figures of soldiers and servants alike start falling asleep in place, dropping like wilting flowers. The courtyard disappears and returns to another view of the entire kingdom. Large, twisted brambles begin enveloping it,He eererere forming an impenetrable wall of thorns encasing everything in sight.

“The King and Queen returned to find their Kingdom gone. They tried rallying support from other kingdoms, but none could breach the Demon’s brambles”

Figures of soldiers and magi alike lobbing magic and arrows and spears at the wall sprang to life. Each volley as useless as the last. She pauses as the image fades, and nothing takes its place.

“And?” Lucanis asks leaning onto his forearms even more.

“And I’m getting there” Rook laughs, flourishing her fingers like she’s conducting an invisible orchestra.

“The Demon’s spell kept the kingdom in a state of eternal slumber. It fed on their fears and nightmares in the Fade while they slept. On the outside, a hundred years had passed, and the King and Queen were long dead. But everyone inside the Kingdom still remained as they were when they were put to sleep”

Two elaborate tombs flickered to life, before fading a moment later.

“Another hundred years passes before a wandering adventurer, pure of heart and mind, and possessing the soul of a true hero, would come to the ruins of the Kingdom, still surrounded by the wall of thorns”

She conjures the image of a handsome-faced young man, in simple chain mail, riding atop a horse.

“But this adventurer was special, you see” Rook whispered and leaned in closer.

Smells like lavender and rosewater, Spite chimes.

“For he had a Spirit of Valor on his side. And the Spirit would see the Terror Demon banished back to the Fade forever”

The figure draws his sword, glowing a bright golden yellow, and pierces the wall of thorns with ease. He continues to cut through the wall and makes his way to the castle.

“There was a great battle between the Demon and the Hero, but the Hero prevails with the help of the Spirit of Valor”

The demon is pierced by the golden sword, and cries out a soundless scream, before disappearing. Now, the entire view of the kingdom is back. The brambles recede like a tide, and one by one, little figures of soldiers and servants begin waking up.

Curiously, when the image fades back to the figure of the princess, she still lies sleeping.

“Why didn’t the princess wake up?” Lucanis asks, his brows drawing together in confusion.

“The Nightmare Demon’s hold on the Princess is stronger than any of the other inhabitants of the Kingdom” Rook explains, shifting in her seat. "It was banished back to the Fade, but not defeated in its entirety. Terror is one of the strongest emotions there is, after all"

The princess and the hero fade from view, and this time, nothing takes their place.

“There has to be more than that” He throws his hands up and shakes his head, before taking another sip of coffee. He nearly spits it out. It’s gone cold. Again. Yet for all his love of caffeinated beverages, the thought of getting up to make another cup doesn’t even cross his mind.

She laughs again, her green eyes twinkling with mirth, “I’m getting there.” She repeats.

“You’re doing this on purpose” He points to her, frowning.

“I have to build suspense somehow!”

Rook raises her hands again, and the figures of the princess and the hero return to view.

“The Hero couldn’t help but be struck by the Princesses’ beauty. He could do nothing else but admire her sleeping form. And he was overcome with the desire to kiss her, for he knew it was love at first sight. He had no way of knowing if it would work – maybe it was his own heart, or maybe it was the Spirit of Valor whispering in his ear, but needed to know if a kiss could wake her from her slumber”

The figure of the prince moves closer to the princess, and hunches over her sleeping form. It leans in and presses a gentle, chaste kiss to her lips.

Both the princess and the hero were soon engulfed in a warm, golden glow. The figure of the princess wakes, and the hero takes her into his arms.

“The princess wakes to find herself in the arms of her rescuer. She and the Hero fall in love. They re-establish the kingdom and ruled together as King and Queen, living happily ever after”

And with a final flick of her wrist, the embracing figures vanish into the ether.

“The End” She says, with a satisfied smirk and a small bow at the waists.

Lucanis leans back in his seat, unable to stop himself from smiling. “That’s it? Everything is fixed with a kiss?”

Rook shrugs innocently, “Aren’t most things?”

He has no time to process that, or the way she’s looking at him while she says it.

“Besides, it wasn’t just a kiss. It was true love’s kiss. Love can be a powerful form of magic in its own right. Just as powerful as Terror - if not more so”

Lucanis frowns. He wishes he could believe that.

“In stories, perhaps” he mutters, swirling the cold coffee around in its cup.

Rook yawns and runs a hand through her wild curls.

“Perhaps” She stands and takes the journal in her hands. She offers him another sweet smile before turning to leave, “Never hurts to believe, though”

As she makes for the dining hall door, Lucanis stands from his chair.

“Rook?” He calls out after her.

She stops and turns, “Yeah?”

“Thank you … for this” he gestures to the fireplace. “For tonight.”

Rook nods, “You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked my story”

“Would you come again tomorrow night?” He asks, entirely too quickly. Convinced he sounds like a lovesick puppy, he wants to kick himself in the shin. Thankfully, he has Spite to do that to his head.

Rooks brows lift in surprise, like she wasn’t expecting him to ask. They quickly settle into a kind expression, one he finds he wants to burn into his memory until its all he can see.

“Yeah, of course” She gives him a small wave, “I’ll see you tomorrow night”

Lucanis returns the wave and returns to the kitchen to brew a fresh pot of coffee.

Meanwhile, Rook leaves the dining hall barely able to keep herself upright.

Being inside the Fade made it much easier for her to draw on her magic, but she’s never used that level of detail and sustained it for so long to tell a story.

Sleep would come easier that night for her from the mana depletion alone.

But Lucanis would stay awake replaying her story in his head over and over again. He would think of how the warm glow of the fireplace cast streaks of orange and gold into her wild curls. How her eyes practically sparkle and the softness of her voice when she tells a story.

But in all the loops of Rook and her story that play in his mind, it escapes his notice that a possessed man is the hero of her tale.

[drezendragon]

V to UV Art by DonnyK9 Murder Drones AU Idea Rambling Alright this is a “Drezen Ramble” I watched Murder Drones as it was coming out and after the last episode had an idea for a AU that then spiraled out of control a bit. It took a long time to finally find someone to draw some stuff for it and hopefully I can find more people to comm stuff for this but here we go. Should probably note I copy pasted most of this from a conversation I had with a bud so sorry if it comes off as nonsense XD

Context: this idea was inspired by the last few episodes where we find out “Effective Drones were cloned more” and Cyn’s comment that N’s Team always surprised her along with the fact V was willing to make a deal with the solver and that V’s persona kind of a mask to deal with the horrors. 

Most of this little story would take place on a different world probably a few years before Copper 9 and the main plot. I mean the solver had to get through Copper's 1 to 8 after all plenty of space to fill so assume it takes place on one of those many outings. 

Basically this AU would center around a different V who went with a different persona to mask behind instead of canon V this AU V takes up the persona of a "Tomboy" (+ a little shonen protagism) this Persona of V basically sets out to try and make sure this Squad is a proper Team and not barely functional mess... Basically She and N use “Democracy” to vote out J as leader and put V in charge who then actually raises team efficiency (much to J's annoyance) by basically doing all she can to be N and J's friend attempting to give them both therapy while mediating their clash of Extrovert and Introvert. N she actually deals with the fact his brain is wiped although basically spoon feds him info (basically tells him the mansion stuff but not the Gala incident) and also kind of gently shuts down his crush on her because she can't really remember what it was like to be the Girl N fell for and she thinks he deserves someone who can take all the love he has in his big dumb heart (She does promise to wingman for him though if they ever find someone who meets his fancy). Becoming friends with J was a lot harder. The girl has so many walls up she basically lives in a mental fortress but together they actually get their job done much faster and making N less annoying for J to deal with they become actual friends.

The Team did so well they actually finished the job with a year to spare which they spent further bonding and talking about what they might do after..... then Cyn and the other J show up. The Team freaked out but they did their job and they did it well and V hopes that this means the deal she made of "Leave us in Peace" will be upheld which Cyn says it will... as she proceeds to rip one of V's arms off. This of course freaks them out and Cyn clarifies it is holding up its end of the deal to "Leave them in P-I-E-C-E giggle" in fact she is so happy with them she is extending the deal to "Pieces"  isn't she the best boss (Happy Sarcastic Tone) the Team panics and tries to fight back but doing so causes Cyn to kill N (guess he didn't want to be left in Pieces oh well hopefully the next back up is more of a team player) J (Team) fights J (Solver's Pet) kind of messes up the “Solver's Pet” to see herself fight back choosing her Team over Corporate... but she too goes down once Cyn gets bored with the resistance and uses Admin permissions to lock up the Team has her pet J finish off the other J and then Cyn takes time ripping V into pieces removing her arms, peg legs, smashing her visor face and shredding her voice box after V tries to curse her out/ scream to just annoy Cyn. In the end V is left just a torso with her upper leg stumps still attached, a smashed face and something that shouldn't be called a voice and due to Cyn being Admin she won't be regenerating. Cyn eats the planet but makes sure to leave the chunk with V and her team’s remains as untouched as she can after all would be rude to not let V keep her reward.

Cyn eventually leaves for the next planet and V is just kind of left she can't see or hear anything only feel the wind but even that eventually fads and she is left alone with her thoughts for a very long time.... until something finds her something finds a broken doll discarded by a cruel "god" V is not sure if she has gone mad but she tries to call out and whatever it is doesn't retreat from her distorted cries instead it seems to try and comfort her and she feels herself being gently picked up so long since she last felt kindness that she drifts off to sleep. When she wakes up she has been repaired.... mostly it seems whoever repaired her used the parts of her team leaving her with N's lower legs, J's voice box patching up her own (Basically she doesn’t sound like V or J her voice is either deeper or growly-raspy sounding), no idea whose arms she has since they all look so similar but her upper arms seem to be new parts, seemingly J’s unbound hair, no stinger tail and when she looks into a mirror she sees her eyes are now basically the color of UV lights and on closer inspection she swears she sees more eyes beneath her visor but before the panic of whatever that is about set in she notices another addition of…. Animal Ears in place of her Headband eyes with said ears expressing her current mood before twitching as she hears someone in the next room and with checking herself over done she leaves out the room to whatever awaits her next.

Notes:

She is nicknamed "UV" because of her eyes she never actually introduces herself to the person who put her back together so “UV” is just what they call her until she either introduces herself or picks out a name for herself.

Her lights were changed from yellow to purple by the person who put her back together both as a side effect of some of the alterations made when repairing her and also so that she hopefully wouldn’t freak out when seeing yellow drone eyes looking back at her when she looks in a mirror.

She is the admin of her own system Cyn’s Admin rights were replaced but despite that UV was unable to regenerate which is why she was repaired with available parts. The current status of her solver is UV has admin rights but the solver does not seem to work in any capacity. 

She can't use her arm weapons so has to carry actual weapons which after finding some Disassembly Drone arms with their Swords sticking out she takes the blades to make into actual swords she can wield. She also can’t use her wings anymore.

Her body has a few upgrades beyond the patch job repair due to the person who repaired her getting hit with inspiration while examining her but they stopped themselves from going overboard as they acknowledge UV is a person and any alterations should really be of her choice… granted this person also looked through her memories just to make sure they weren’t repairing a psycho.

Upgrades and modifications she now has are: Her new upper arm parts compensate for her lack of wings since they allow her arms to extend (Think Reg’s arms from Made in Abyss), her visor she can now customize things like the type or eye brows she has when she expresses along with a range of other options to help her be who she wants to be, She can eat human food being no longer reliant on oil but she can still eat it and other drone foods if she has to and probably a few other features relating to her new visor and ears that she didn’t bother to ask about once the shock of being rebuilt started to wear off.

Having her Teammates limbs attached to her has had a bit of an effect on her psyche causing her to take up some of their personality traits on top of her Tomboy Persona leading her to be more Chipper like N but also making her call the person who fixed her up "Boss" (thankfully she is spared using the mountain of corporate jargon that J does)

She has a lot of mental grief, having survivors guilt and refusing to get any further upgrades or better repairs to desperately hold onto what she has left of her friends which sometimes leads to her hallucinating them when alone or stressed out.

Character Inspirations: Murder Drones's V: Eldritch Robo, Fake it till you make it, Cloned Traumatized Killed Cloned again, Sacrifice her own happiness for her friends.

Fate's Mordred: Knight of Rebellion, Artificial Being Cloned from another, Tomboy, Traumatized but kind of dealing with it.

Underverse's Cross:  Quotes "Am I evil for what I did? Am I evil for what I am?" " What's the point of feeling useful and valid in a reality plagued by thousands of us...?" "Yes, our origin is an imitation... ready-made from another. But...our pride, our experiences... Maybe they make us authentic." Scrapnik Mecha Sonic: Haunted by the fight that left them in pieces, Shadow of their “maker” looming over them, feels like a misshapen thing with scraps for limbs, surprisingly dangerous for their current state of repair. 

[genopaint]

Been in a big Axel the Alligator mood lately so I redesigned some characters the last couple days and even introduced a new villain!!

Here's some of the notes I included about them all from twitter :) it's below the readmore

To go along with the new Axel the Alligator arts I did a bit ago, I figured I should draw the No-Name Grunt again! I gave them a bit of a make over from last time

Most notably their suits are now purple to match Camilla the Chameleon's, since they are her henchmen after all!

If you don't recall, these are basically Axel's goomba. The basic bottom of the barrel enemy the main characters fight. They're all a part of Camilla's seemingly never ending gang. They all follow her every order because they're obsessed with her, but she can't even be bothered to remember their names. Thus, the No-Names. Instead, they're each given a numbered belt and she just calls them by their number.

There's TONS of No-Names, that's why there's even color variations for the grunts you encounter. But there's even different classes of No-Names.

Like bruisers, fliers, stuff like that. However, I want to redesign them a bit more cause I wasn't 100% on their old designs. SO you'll have to wait and see if I bother with them. But you get the idea, the grunt kind of represents the whole army of underlings anyway.

Oh, and of course... No-Name 10,000. The super special ultra rare No-Name encounter. When you defeat it, it drops TONS of gold and exp!

Also some really quick sketches for some of the other No-Name classes with this suit redesign. I think it's cute they're all kind of matching but now I worry maybe they're not unique enough? Before their suits were all different colors... idk... Much to think about...

It's gonna be a WHILE before I get to make an Axel the Alligator game so I'll keep thinking on it lol

And of course there's probably gonna be a lot of No-Name enemy types it all just depends on what I would want / need for each game I suppose lol.

They're like Badniks, they reuse a lot of old ones but new ones or variants could show up wherever it's needed

----

And of course, where there's No-Names, there's the No-Name generals! Similarly, Camilla doesn't care to remember their names. But they're juuuuust important enough to be allowed to command her underlings when she's off doing more important things.

Uno the Uromastyx is Camilla's original #1 super fan, and as such is the leader of the generals. He's a bit stuck up and loves to wave the fact he's #1 in the others faces.

Dos the Daboia is a bit of a loser and is ALWAYS panicking. He's constantly worried his suit is too blue.

And Tres the Tree Lizard is a chaotic girl who loves explosives. She's constantly building bombs to create chaos. Whenever the No-Names use explosives, they're probably her creations.

They're the ultimate undying loyalists to Camilla, and they all HATE Carnage and Behemoth because the trio was there first and yet Camilla makes Carnage and Behemoth her right hand men. Out ranking even the No-Name generals.

But of course, Uno, Dos, and Tres stand no chance at ever beating either of them. Even if they gang up on them.

----

Two more Axel the Alligator characters! Sol the Saurus I've shown before and has a shiny new redesign. But Ceaser the Ceratops is his brand-spanking-new rival!! Pretty neat!

These two existed from before the meteorite came... What on earth are they doing in present day???

Sol fights with a giant sword that builds energy as its swung, and Ceaser fights with a giant shield that builds energy as its hit. They used to be allies but that was a long long long time ago

Also I'm not 100% on Ceaser's design or name so don't be surprised if I touch it up

Also here's an updated height chart with the No-Names and these dinosaurs. Again it's not 100% accurate but it gives an idea (Behemoth IS taller than Dos it's just a bad pose I promise)

also a comparison with some short guys in front of the dinosaurs :)

My concept is that Axel characters don't really stop growing as they age (which I believe real reptiles do the same thing?) so since these dinosaurs are from ancient times they'd have grown a CRAZY amount in the mean time. idk

[hypernova-writes]

Stupid In Love [Sniper x Reader]

Synopsis: Sniper loves you, and is not afraid to show it. He wants to spend the rest of his days with you.

a/n: Song fic one of two that I want to post, The next one is called in the closet~! Can you guess who it is??

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful There's something about your eyes Tell me these feelings are mutual 'Cause feelings are so hard to fight

Sniper didn’t really consider himself to be a romantic man. He’d been a few relationships, whooed a couple of women before. But none of that compared to how he felt whenever he was with you.

Know it's a little soon, maybe But I'd go anywhere you take me 'Long as you're calling me, baby They can all call us crazy

You were a mercenary just like him. Efficient at what you do. He was always wowed when he saw you on the battlefield in your element. You were like a jack of all trades, ready to hop in and help anyone who really and truly needed it. Whether Medic needed a little support. Scout needed someone to help him flank or Engineer needed someone to watch over his machines. You were always there.

So it shocked him when you ended up confessing your feelings to him. Him of all people. He was pretty sure you’d heard all the things the other mercs said about him. How he was cold, how he was disgusting. But once again. You looked past what they all said and took it upon yourself to get to know him. You didn’t stop until you knew just about everything about him (that he would tell you.).

Now you had him dreaming about being a family man.

He would talk about you on the phone to his parents, who were elated that their son had someone in his love life that he could depend on. And they could tell by the way that their son talked about you on the phone that he was head over heels in love.

The other mercs noticed it too.

Whenever they needed Sniper for something and he was nowhere to be found? They went straight to you.

“Hey Y/n? Have ya seen Snipes? We need him today.” “Oh! Yea i have! I’ll go get him :)”

You’re so sweet that this man could probably get a cavity from how you were. You would come padding up to his camper, knocking that special knock before entering.

“Snipey~ Baby! You’re needed for a mission.” You walk over to him and press your lips against his cheek.

It never failed to make him blush, because if he didn’t react or didn’t say anything, you would just puff out your cheeks and pout before attacking him with more kisses until you kissed his lips.

“..’lright..’lright, I hear ya sheila..”

He then tilts your chin up to place a kiss on your lips, watching as you melted into his touch. It was plenty of exchanges that made the two of you late.

It boosted his moods, he would definitely do better in whatever mission or match whenever you gave him that cute encouragement you’d like to do.

He would watch as you went off to do whatever you had to get done, he would have that giddy love sick look on his face and he knew he was absolutely whipped.

Let's get married in Vegas We don't need a guest list I don't wanna think too much Let's get matching tattoos I don't wanna think it through Baby, I'm so stupid in love

The two of you were sitting on top of his campervan, gazing up at the stars. He looked over at you as you were rambling on about something that he just nodded along to.

‘God..she’s a beaut..”

Book a flight to Paris, only one way What'd you think about sharing our last name?

“Mick. You ever think about marriage?”

That question makes him sit up as he tilts his head, he was attentive then.

“Yea..I guess i do.” “Good..Cause I was thinking of it too. How we would have ours.”

He watches as you grin at him before looking back up to the sky. “I’d like to have it under the stars..cause it reminds me of moments like these with you.

Sniper smiles softly as he pulls you over onto his chest, Kissing your forehead he nuzzles against your face.

“Of course..We’ll do whatever ya want sheila..”

Let's get straight to "I do" I don't wanna think it through Baby, I'm so stupid in love

[the-cybersmith]

All the wokescold lefty communists (such as @autisticexpression2 and probably @tanadrin) acting offended by this should shut their hypocritical mouths.

This is the world you made.

Or, to be more precise, this is the world you returned us to.

For most of history; stone, bronze, and iron age alike, this was normal and acceptable behaviour.

Until a few hundred years ago, this was the standard all over the planet except for a few places in Europe and Ethiopia.

The victorious warriors of a premodern conflict would select attractive young specimens from amongst the captured fighting men of a defeated enemy tribe and bring them home to be castrated and used for pleasure.

They all had different words for it, "thrall", "slave", etc... but it was essentially the same practice.

What put an end to this practice was the advent and spread of Universalist Christian Morality, or UCM. According to UCM, the victor was obliged to be merciful, and moderate, and restrained.

However, you got rid of UCM. You got rid of it because you found its rules inconvenient. Rules like "don't shoot your political opponent in the head whilst he's in the middle of a speech".

Well, congratulations. You have what you wanted. No more UCM. Just old-fashioned might makes right Nietzchean master morality (I think @loving-n0t-heyting can give a better explanation of this than I can) as far as the eye can see.

You openly bragged on X about how you were going to lock people up if you won. You said you would bankrupt Elon Musk, and take away his businesses. Well... you lost!

These soon-to-be catamites are combatants. They admit to being adults, to having voted. They are active participants in a campaign that would see men like Robert J. O'Neil disenfranchised and humiliated. They cannot claim innocence.

They would have sent him and his friends to dei training sessions and sexism awareness lessons. They would have taxed him, and locked up his heroes, and censored him on social media.

If they won.

Instead, they lost.

And now, like many losers throughout history, they shall be subject to the unrestained whims of those who defeated them.

Harry Sisson should take some progesterone, put on a dress, and report for Harem duty.

He's a concubine now.