#basically every one of their conversations

[jinxsequin]

COSMIC ✧˖*°࿐

| au!powder x fem!reader

| wc: 6.4k

| summary: being in love with your best friend becomes complicated

| content/warnings: men dni, no mention of y/n, best friends to lovers, bestfriend!ekko, set in ep 7 au except vi and cait are alive and thriving (pretend they all survived that explosion), basically everyone is alive and well apart from powder&vi's parents LMAO, kind of wrote this as a cope, possibly ooc powder (and cait), r and powder are both oblivious, mentions of anxiety and poor mental health, alcohol mentioned briefly, slightly angsty, fluff, kissing/making out, slightly suggestive, lazy writing

After a long day at the academy, you wanted to do absolutely nothing but crawl into bed and avoid any social interaction until you’re inevitably forced to face reality again. That option however, was no longer available since you’d done that enough times the past few weeks for the label of social recluse to become a little too fitting. So here you found yourself, at The Last Drop, doing the second best thing, people-watching whilst Powder worked behind the bar. 

Vi and Cait were currently engrossed in what looked to be the most engaging, riveting conversation across the bar, Vi’s arm slung around Cait’s shoulder, carding the midnight blue strands through her fingers periodically, Cait’s hand settled on Vi’s thigh in return. But to the carefully trained eye of a self-proclaimed people-watcher (in the least creepy way possible), and in general how accustomed you’ve become to Cait and Vi, you know they were having the most casual exchange about the silliest thing ever, they’re just so wrapped up in their own bubble, seriously, if it was possible you’d actually believe you could physically see the hearts floating around them - they were completely and entirely enamoured with each other. But it was the look in their eyes that struck you unexpectedly with a sickening sense of yearning. It filled you with inexplicable joy to see someone you’d grown up alongside, with an unspeakably painful past and admittedly not-so-easy upbringing, get to be happy and doted on. If anyone deserved that it was Vi and her huge heart, after putting everyone before herself her entire adolescence. And Caitlyn, though she and Powder may not have got along like a house on fire in the beginning, had won over everyone’s hearts eventually. Her heart was always in the right place, and she was constantly surrounded by such a warm energy, it was impossible to not be open and comfortable around her. Involuntarily, every time you thought about it you found yourself aching for a connection like theirs. Sure, you were a tiny bit envious, but it gave you that glimmer of hope. With who? Well. 

A damp cloth thrown at your shoulder pulled you out of your whirlwind. 

“Hey toots, still here?” Powder said, settling at your side. 

Powder. When your parents’ lives were lost in the war, Benzo had kindly taken you under his wing when you had no family to turn to. Ekko had quickly befriended you, and the two of you remained close in the present. Of course, as Ekko often hung around Vi, Claggor, Mylo and Powder, they were all introduced to you and a bond had been inevitably struck. From an early age you and Powder had clicked, the pair of you naive and bright-eyed, brimming with excitement and potential. Your shared interests and passions had led you both to study at the academy, where you remained glued to each other's sides, if there was one of you around, anyone who knew the two of you, was well aware that the other would be lingering close by. 

So what was different? As of late, being in her proximity had begun to make an uncomfortable feeling twist around your spine and find its home in you. You had spent countless restless nights, racking your brain of the timeline of events that could have possibly led up to this. Maybe it was the air, the weather, the holiday spirit? It was to no avail, however, as you simply couldn't pinpoint when or where this feeling had crept in. It wasn’t uncomfortable in the way that you didn’t want to be around Powder, no, rather, it was the opposite. You couldn’t stay away. And your dynamic didn’t help, you spent nearly every waking moment together, and even then often slept in her presence too. But it terrified you. The two of you, in many of your plentiful late night oil burning sessions, had spoken in depth of the fear of change in many contexts. You’d never explicitly talked about it in regards to your friendship, but that went without saying. Change couldn’t happen. You didn’t want it to either, right? You repeated the mantra to lull yourself to sleep on such harrowing nights. It won’t happen. You were at a loss, but you knew you wouldn't give up what you had for the world, so it was buried as well as you could.

“Umm, space girl, I’m pretty sure I’m not talking to myself over here,” Powder snarked, pulling you once again from your spiralling, a teasing grin on her face.

“Huh?” You replied, still dazed, pulling the cloth off and playing with it absentmindedly in your hands before finally meeting her eyes. “I mean yeah, I was just waiting here till you got off.”

Your gaze impulsively drifted back to the couple again, their foreheads pressed together now as tipsy giggles were shared between the two. 

“Well good news, sugar, Vander let me off early,” she returned in a sing-song tone, shooting you a strange look at your disorientated behaviour before following your line of vision and landing on the pair. She scrunched her nose slightly in mock disgust before letting out a soft sigh. 

“Positively sickening, aren’t they.”

“Right. I don’t know how many me and who’s I have left in me anymore,” you shared, before shaking your head slightly as if to finally pull yourself away. 

Powder’s gaze turned back to you at that, a few seconds of silence as your words settled. An unfathomable expression crossed her face, before a small smile settled on her lips. 

“Wanna get out of here?” she said, your attention fully returned to her as she held out her arm. 

“Lead the way, captain,” you affirmed, linking your arm with her inviting one, leaning into her warmth as her smile widened, knowing another quiet night unwinding in her hideout is just what the both of you needed.  

Idle chatter over the hum of the night occupied your minds and tongues until you reached Powder’s beloved workshop, whereby you both threw down your belongings and settled on the couch to watch the lights wrapping the lanes in that soft, familiar golden glow. 

“I would so not!” Powder shrieked indignantly, watching as you double over in laughter. 

“You would! I see it now, you in a fancy white lab coat somewhere topside, tinkering away-”, you added, giggling at the ridiculous image in your head of future mad scientist Powder. 

“Not!” she interrupted, entirely opposed to your idea. 

“Would! I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if you discovered something like magic, somehow,” you said, though there’s a serious element to your teasing. She’s a genius, there’s no doubt in your mind that she could if she put her mind to it.

“Not gonna happen,” she replied, rolling her eyes though a faint blush at your incessant teasing formed across her cheeks. 

“Maybe in another universe, then.”

“Hm,” she tilted her head, and turned back to you, shoulder brushing yours. “Where are you in all this then?”

“Hmmmm,” you put your finger to your chin in mock wonder, “you probably cracked some code and figured out how to fuse us together so we actually never separate,” you joke. 

Powder looked at you for a moment before finally cracking, the sweet sound of her unfiltered laughter hitting your ears and filling your heart with its warmth. 

“Okay, that sounds more like me now,” she replied once the laughter subsided, head finding a place on your shoulder. That squeamish feeling resurfaced for a moment at the tenderness of her contact, but you brushed it off as quickly as it arrived, leaning in to her.

“Told ya.”

“Maybe, but…,” she unexpectedly spoke up again. Her blue eyes find yours as you silently encourage her to expand on her thought. “Sure, Zaun isn’t perfect,” she carried on quietly, slightly leaning up to rest her chin on your shoulder. You shivered slightly. “And yeah, maybe I do want to do things but I’d do them for the sake of this place, to improve the quality of life here. I’m happy here. With everyone. With you. I’d want to do it with you,” she finished, eyes searching yours, as if awaiting your reaction. Your heart skipped several beats, you swore, how would you live if she continued to throw out such heartfelt statements in a casual conversation?

“Hell yeah, you would,” you finally managed to get out, eyes still on her face, “and I’d be right there throughout, like your little cheerleader.”

The intensity of the moment dissipates with Powder’s snort at your reply . “Always the sap, toots,” she opts for, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to bring you closer as the drowsiness begins to fall over the two of you.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

It was a few weeks later when you, Powder and Ekko found yourselves poring over blueprints for a project in the early hours of the night. The Last Drop had closed early, courtesy of it being a weekday and the cold weather. The three of you were the only people sat at a table inside, Vander having trusted Powder to lock up responsibly.

Ekko let out a loud sigh as he leaned back in his chair. “I wonder when this’ll finally end.”

You hummed in agreement, the hours spent grinding away wearing away at your patience. “The Innovator’s Competition is less than a month away, we’ll have to have it done before then. I can’t wait though.” You mimicked Ekko, slouching back in your chair. 

“It can’t just be a throwaway project. It has to be perfect,” Powder ran her hands through her hair frustratedly, the half-up-and-down-do hanging on for life. You and Ekko groaned in sync at that, you’d been at it for hours and though you shared the same perfectionist ideas about the project, she’d been particularly antsy today. 

“Look, maybe we should wrap it up for today. Revisit it tomorrow with a fresher mind,” you offered, stretching out your legs. 

Powder nodded in relent. Ekko leaned up, instantly beginning to pack away his things. “Yeah, you can say that again,” he chuckled. “I’m gonna head home now. You coming with?” he looked to you for your response, though the teasing smile on his face told you he was already aware of your answer. 

“No,” you replied, observing Powder's worn-out figure, “I think I’m gonna hang around for a bit. I’ll catch you later though, Ekko.”

He slung his bag over his shoulder, turning to you both as he began to walk out. “Night then, don’t stay up firing your brain cells for too long!” 

You and Powder both snickered at that, waving him off. A comfortable silence blanketed the pair of you as you began packing away the day’s work, hands brushing ever so often. Powder stood up eventually, brushing herself off and walked up to the window overlooking the streets of Zaun.

“Oh my god!” She suddenly whispered excitedly, turning her head to you with a  delighted grin. Your heart twisted in your chest. “C’mere, look!”

You pushed yourself off the chair at her command, quickly approaching where she stood at the long window. Sure enough, a dusting of snow had crowned the lanes of the city, countless snowflakes continuing to make their home on the surroundings that were fortunate enough to be above ground and not sunken under. Powder’s eyes remained fixated on the side of your face as you watched, fascinated.

“Snow,” you breathed out, “it’s beautiful.” Snow was rare in Zaun, the last time you remembered seeing it vaguely was an impromptu visit to Piltoever when you were much younger, so it was an entirely exciting experience witnessing it now.

“Right,” she mumbled in reply, her stare returning to the landscape. 

“We absolutely have to go out!” You said, enlivened once again by the weather, running to grab something warm enough to step out in. Powder turned around, watching your rapid movement. 

“What, right now??” she replied sceptically, though her actions betrayed her as she copied you, picking up the coat she’d shed earlier.

“Umm, yes. You’re not arguing with me on this,” you shot back adamantly, already wrapping a scarf around your exposed neck and halfway out. Powder rolled her eyes in response, despite the fond smile adorning her lips. 

Regret. That’s what you were beginning to feel, crouching behind the fence of a small plot of land, hiding from Powder’s impromptu snowball attack. All thoughts of the troubles of your project entirely forgotten as she threw herself into a stubborn fight. You were out of breath by the time you had even managed to lob one back at her. There was no way this was fair game, you thought to yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation. A rustle nearby broke you out of your thoughts, and a lump of snow hitting your arm had you fleeing from your place of refuge, jumping over the fence and onto the snow-covered land.

“There’s no running from me, sucker!” Powder’s cackle sounded through the night, footsteps close behind you as you narrowly dodged another hit. 

“Give me a chance at least!” You yelled back, refusing to glance behind. You had almost outrun her when the inevitable happened, and you landed on the blanketed ground with a thud. Unfortunately for you, Powder had been much closer behind you than you had anticipated, so when you were knocked down, she’d crash landed on top, her legs entrapping your body. 

“Ughhh…” she sounded out after as she leaned up a little on her elbows. She brushed the overgrown bangs out of her face, hair completely wild now. Her eyes scrutinised your face, assessing for any damage. “You good?” she asked tentatively, worry flickering over her face. 

All you could do was nod in response. Any words that you had ready at your disposal had all vanished at the unexpected proximity, and though at the initial impact your bones had been chilled, you now felt an overwhelming burning sensation everywhere. Her hand slowly reached out towards your cheek, brushing away the snowflakes that had settled there. Okay, now your heart was actually going to be catapulted out of your chest with its vicious thumping. Her gaze remained centred on your face, before she leaned in closer. 

“Gotcha,” she murmured, watching your reddening face as she broke into laughter, finally relenting and sitting up. Despite your quiet sigh of relief, your body instantly craved the contact lost. You shook your head before sitting up a little, watching as she occupied herself with making a snow angel besides you.

“Cheater,” you finally grumbled out, though your words had no bite. 

“Won fair and square toots, accept it or not!” Powder quickly retorted, offering you her hand as a grip as she towered above you now, a goofy grin on her face at her so-called victory. 

Up in her hideout, you busied yourself setting up a cover and a blanket on the floor of Powder’s makeshift bedroom whilst she finished up changing in her closet. You were half way through tucking yourself in when Powder re-entered, eyes searching for you in confusion before landing on your figure on the floor. 

She threw herself on the bed before throwing you a puzzled look. “Why are you on the floor?”

“Just…thought I’d be better off here tonight,” you replied, looking up at her and trying your best to keep a casual tone. 

“Okay,” her eyebrows furrowed in further doubt, “but why?”

At the beginning of your friendship, when you’d grown comfortable enough to be able to stay over, you’d began by setting out blankets and pillows on the floor whilst she slept on the bed, though she’d offered it to you and was turned down countlessly. This routine had carried on for only a short while though, because with how drawn to each other you were you’d quickly been able to feel safe enough to sleep in the same bed. As of recent though, that godforsaken feeling you were hoping would fade away on its own had only grown stronger, as if it was feeding off any interaction and proximity you had with Powder. Suffice to say, it had become the subject of many overthinking sessions spent in your own bed, tossing and turning tirelessly. It would of course be entirely amplified lying besides her, but you’d sucked it up and taken it for a spell. Tonight, however, after the earlier event you had barely recovered from - seriously, you think your heart needs to be professionally checked - you took it upon yourself to take to the floor, too afraid of the intensity of the alternative.

At your unintentional silence in response to her question, Powder frowned, turning away and lying down. “Okay, if you want your space, I get it. G’night,” she said softly, facing away from you.

You laid down, stomach twisting at the thought of her thinking you were upset at her, knowing that was often the conclusion she jumped to when you were slightly distant or off with her. You wanted to reach out, comfort her, assure her she had done nothing wrong, but a meek goodnight was all you could offer before you similarly turned away and closed your eyes. 

You couldn’t tell how many hours had passed, or if any had passed at all but your unease was relentless, you’d almost nodded off about ten times already before your body would pull you out of almost-slumber and leave you awake with your troubling thoughts again. A combination of guilt and the freezing cold seeping into every bone in your body was going to keep you up all night, you acknowledged as you resigned to your fate, turning to lay flat on your back. 

A shifting in the sheet from the bed above interrupted the silence, Powder’s similarly sleep deprived figure peered down at you, a disgruntled expression on her face.

“Okay,” she rasped, “this is ridiculous. Come here.” She held out the blanket, inviting you in. 

Fuck it, there wasn’t a second of hesitation in the way you got up and crawled in, instantly calmed by the warmth her body offered. Who were you to say no to that? All feelings of discomfort and fear and anything in between melted away under her touch. Drowsiness finally draped over the two of you, her arm coming to rest over your waist and her head nestled in the crook between your neck and shoulder, blue locks tickling your cheek.

“Silly,” she mumbled into your neck, the last words that were spoken before sleep fell over you both. 

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

“Well, you look rough,” are the first kind words that tumble out of Ekko the next morning when you reluctantly enter Benzo’s workshop for your shared shift. 

“Wow thank you, buster, how kind,” you grumbled, coming behind the counter to take a seat next to Ekko. Working at Benzo’s wasn’t terrible, and even though it was only the three of you usually running the ship, it was manageable. Besides, haggling with clueless customers alongside Ekko usually provided good entertainment. Just not this morning, not after the tumultuous storm brewing in your head. 

The gentle smell of lavender hit you, before Ekko handed over a warm cup of herbal tea. You accept it gratefully, raising it to your lips and facing the door, and whatever else the day may bring. 

“Are you seriously not going to tell me what’s up?” Ekko sighed out exasperatedly.

“Nothing, dude, seriously,” you turned back to him, nervous at how easily he can always read you. “Just got a lot on my mind right now.”

“A problem shared is a problem halved is a problem solved, as the Professor puts it,” he quipped back playfully, prodding your forearm. 

“There’s no way you’re quoting the Professor to me right now,” you deadpanned, shooting him a look. 

“What I mean to say is, it’ll probably help if you talk it out, ” Ekko carried on, “besides I always tell you shit! This is only fair.”

You rolled your eyes lightheartedly, before relenting. “Fine, it’s just Pow-” Your sentence is interrupted with Ekko’s stifled laugh.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Okay, what the fuck is that about?”

“Nothing!” he straightened his expression quickly, prompting you to carry on. 

You shot him a final warning look before hesitantly carrying on. Fuck it, you’re this far in now, might as well spill. “I don’t know. I can barely keep my composure around Powder anymore. I can’t figure out what’s shifted.”

Ekko smiled in understanding before patting your shoulder. “That, my friend, is what happens when you hold it in for too long.” 

“What?!!”

“What!” he held his free hand up in mock surrender, “I’m just saying, it’s so obvious to anyone in the vicinity of you both that there’s something there. Seriously, a charge that could rival the strongest of currents,” he shook his head, a playful grin on his face he didn't hold back.

“It’s not like that for her. Well at least, I don’t think so,” you groaned, head in your hands. “Anytime I think a move might be made, it’s snatched away. But at the same time every thing we do is the same as it’s always been, just…intensified.”

“Well, I can’t speak for her,” Ekko replied contemplatively, “but what I do know is you just need to have an honest conversation about how you feel, and where you stand.” 

“When did you become so wise?” you muttered, looking up at him full of genuine gratefulness.  

“When did you both become so blindly oblivious?” he shot back boldly, returning your grin. Your comeback was stifled by the entrance of your first customer of the day, the familiar bell of the door sounding through the shop as they made their way to the counter. 

“And for the record, can I just say I fucking knew it,” Ekko enthused under his breath as you got up to greet the customer. 

“Ekko!”

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

It was later that day when you decided to suck it up and take Ekko’s advice. How bad could it really go, the conversation was going to be inevitable at some point if you wanted to retain your sanity. Trekking through the light snow to The Last Drop, where you knew Powder would be working tonight didn’t take too long, but long enough for all the anxious thoughts to resurface. Your head was already boiling by the time you took a seat at the bustling bar.  

Vander looked up at the sound of you pushing the stool in. “Hi kid,” he chuckled fondly at your tired wave as a form of greeting. He turned away for a second, gesturing to Powder at the other end of the bar counter of your arrival.

“Oh hey, pretty lady, come here often?” Powder teased mock-seductively the moment her eyes landed on your tense figure, walking to stand across from you. You tried your best to act normal, but the way your heart was doing flips in your chest as she poured a fruity drink and pushed it towards you was becoming extremely hard to ignore.

“Hey Pow,” you replied softly, taking the drink gratefully. She shot Vander a look, wordlessly asking for a break so she could be closer. Vander obliged without a second of hesitation with a wave of his hand, as Powder made her way to the front of the bar, taking a seat next to you. 

“I’m going to need you to do that haircut soon, trinket,” she huffed, blowing away the long, overgrown bangs that refused to be pinned into the two space buns she currently had hair pulled into. Powder had swore she would never go to Zaun’s infamous barber again, after her disastrous last visit that ended with extremely choppy bangs. You still thought they were adorable, and with her face she could absolutely pull it off. But that was you, and you were perhaps a little biased. Since then, she’d only entrusted you with scissors near her hair, and had mentioned another haircut briefly earlier this morning when you’d awoken in her room. 

“Okay, I’ll come over and do it soon,” you returned, never one to turn down her requests. The piece of hair flew down again, and this time your hand automatically reached out to tuck it behind her ear. The boldness of your action didn’t register until you accidentally brushed her cheek, which was blazing under her fiery blush. Fuck. You couldn’t do it, you thought, as all plans of health communication flew out the window. You’d resign yourself to playing this game for the rest of your life if you had to, but you were convinced you’d never have the courage to even think about being more with her, hurt you as it might. You quickly dropped your hand as fast as it had reached towards her, oblivious to the way Powder chased your touch. 

“Oh! Almost forgot!” Powder perked up, the tension of the moment snapping with her exclamation. “Here,” she opened up your palm, pushing something miniscule ino it. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, glancing at her in confusion. She didn’t speak, just nodded at you as if to encourage you to look. You opened your palm, and there sat a snow globe. It was obviously handmade, her love and care clearly poured into it. You shook it, watching as the blizzard inside swirled around the landscape before settling, two miniscule figures of the two of you in the middle. A strong sense of emotion, intensified by the months of containing it, crashed over you as you stared at it in awe, and you were dismayed to find tears prickling at your eyes so quickly. 

“I love it,” you managed to choke out, meeting Powder’s adoring grin. 

“I’m glad,” she replied genuinely, before realising you were at the verge of tears. Her hands found your shoulders, attempting to ground you. “Whoa there, trinket. It’s just a snowglobe, what’s wrong?” her eyebrows drawn together in concern.

“Feels different,” you mumbled out, free hand coming up to wipe away your vulnerability. 

Powder was stumped at that, worried gaze still roaming over your flushed face. She pulled her arms away from where they’d just been placed on your shoulders, and tentatively took your hand in hers. “It’s not,” she opted for, “nothing’s different, nothing changed okay?” 

The blood drained from your face at that, your body throwing itself into another whirlwind of emotions at the implication of her words. You knew she was just saying what she thought would be the best response to your nonsensical statement, but it didn’t hurt any less. 

“I know,” you eventually replied quietly, gingerly squeezing her hand instead of acknowledging the anxious frown that had settled over her face. 

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

Since that night, you hadn’t seen Powder for the majority of the next three days, and when you had hung out between that time, it was to work on the upcoming project as a trio. This had already slightly confused Powder, though it might have been a normal amount of time to have hung out, it was definitely out of the usual for you two, who had often been told by Vander, Silco and others alike, that you were actually joined at the hip. But what had actually thrown Powder into bewilderment was how you had rushed off home after insisting you had a lot of work to do, instead of staying past hours together as was so often your routine. She was struck between feeling distraught at the idea she had upset you somehow, and guilty at letting her mind run wild when it could be down to wanting your personal space. Come to think of it, you had been acting weird for a while now.

In an attempt to quieten the voices and to gain some peace of mind, Powder found herself in a place she would not often come alone. Piltover. She slipped the spare key she had been entrusted with into the keyhole of her sister and her sister’s girlfriend’s shared house, making her way over to the kitchen table. She laid her head on the surface, welcoming the cooling feeling. No one seemed to be home, which Powder was grateful for, as she didn’t think she’d have a good excuse as to why she’d dropped by so suddenly and unannounced. 

“Hello??” A voice sounded through the silence of the kitchen, it seemed her wish was not granted. 

Powder reluctantly raised her head and propped up her elbows, resting her face on her hands in an attempt to look as nonchalant as possible. 

“Powder?” Caitlyn asked incredulously, as if her eyes were deceiving her, though she quickly crossed the room to sit across from her, a twinkle in her eye. 

“The one and only,” Powder answered with a toothy grin despite herself.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Caitlyn quipped, reaching out for the orange juice carton and two cups. 

Powder’s eyes flicked around the room anxiously at that, biting at her lower lip. She hadn’t anticipated answering to anybody right now, but maybe it was a blessing in disguise with the heavy thoughts weighing down on her. Maybe she would regret opening up so easily, kick herself later, but as Caitlyn offered her a glass, there looked to be no better option than to share what had been preying on her mind. 

“...And she’s been off with me since! I don’t know what I can do to make things right if I don’t know what I did wrong…” Powder finished her run-through of troubling events, her hands thrown up in the air to punctuate her sentence. 

“Sweetheart, you need to know there’s nothing you’ve done wrong. And she doesn’t think that either,” Caitlyn replied thoughtfully, searching for her next words as Powder watched in anticipation, “all this just seems like…some miscommunication. To me that night at the bar was her probably trying to tell you she likes you, in all honesty.”

The drink Powder had taken a sip of constricted her lungs hearing Caitlyn’s response, saving herself at the last second with choked out coughs. Caitlyn flashed her a look of wild concern as Powder gathered herself together. 

“What?” she asked, her voice hoarse. 

Caitlyn broke into a giggle at her shock at something that she thought was entirely obvious, even before this from her own observation. She raised her palm, hand coming over to lay on top of Powder’s own carefully. 

“You know for someone that’s such a well-known genius, you sure do miss what’s right in front of your eyes, and everyone else’s,” she teased lightheartedly. 

Powder’s face scrunched up at her statement. “Fuck, I thought I was doing a good job hiding. Am I really that obvious?” 

“The both of you are, I’m afraid,” Caitlyn laughed. 

“And how do you just know all this shit?” Powder retorted.

“Let's just say I've played this game before,” Caitlyn replied, blue eyes glimmering.

“What? Don't tell me my sister put you through that-”

“Now why the hell was I not invited to this party?” The sound of Vi’s voice rang through the kitchen as she sauntered towards them. Placing a kiss on Caitlyn’s cheek, she turned to Powder and engulfed her in a hug, arms wrapping around her shorter frame tightly. Powder’s eyes widened as she returned the embrace, not expecting the sudden display of affection. 

“Uff, what was that for?” Powder exclaims as Vi finally released her, but not before ruffling through her choppy locks. 

“Can I not hug my baby sister?” Vi grumbled playfully, standing back at Caitlyn’s side as a warm smile spread across the latter's face at the sight of the siblings’ antics. Playful bickering was passed between the pair, before Powder straightened up as if remembering herself, ready to leave. 

“Leaving so soon? You only just got here,” Vi lamented as Powder began bidding her goodbyes. 

“I’ve got…something to do. I’ll be back soon, sis,” Powder promised, before turning to Caitlyn with a warm smile, “and thank you, Cait,” she said, hoping she conveyed the genuinity of her thankfulness.

“Any time, Powder,” Caitlyn shot her a knowing smile back as she took her final leave. 

The house fell back into a content silence as Vi snaked an arm around Cait’s waist, looking at her puzzled. “Did I miss something?”

“You, my dear," Cait pressed a victorious kiss to Vi's cheek, mimicking her early move, “have just lost a bet.” 

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

“Thank the gods!” You declared, Ekko nodding vigorously in agreement as the pair of you wrapped up to leave, after a particularly productive session finalising your project. Everything was finally coming together, all the hard work beginning to pay off. Powder had suggested the meeting be in her hideout today, but she’d been uncharacteristically quiet and on edge all evening. You shot her a look now, subtly trying to check up on her. Your heart stuck in your throat when she met your gaze suddenly, clearly needing to say something. You looked away abruptly, ever since that night your emotions had been going haywire around her even more. She’d talk when she was ready. Just as you were about to step out with Ekko, thinking you were in the clear, her hand wrapped around your forearm, holding you in place.

“Can… Can you stay? Just for a bit,” Powder swiftly asked, trying her utmost best to not sound like she was pleading. 

You looked at Ekko for a second, finding he was already looking at you, eyebrow raised in question. He’d been under the impression that you’d already talked, though it was clear to him now that was not the case. You turned back to Powder, who was awaiting your response in apprehension. 

“See ya later, dudes,” Ekko said cheerfully, and you swore you saw the smirk flashing across his features before he circled around and left, leaving you no time to even attempt to argue. 

“Umm…sure, Pow,” you spoke softly, your arm released from her grip. Her eyes softened at the use of her nickname from you, shoulders relaxing slightly. “What’s up?”

Fuck, Powder hadn’t thought that far. She’d just seen you leaving, and the thought of you slipping out of her grasp and no longer near her had made her panic. 

“Will you cut my hair, please?” she managed to save herself, sighing in relief as you silently agreed and followed her back over to an area of her hideout.

Once you were both situated on the floor, you sat on your knees in front of her mirroring her own position, combing through her brightly coloured locks in preparation for the cut. Silence fell over you. Though this would be normal on any other occasion, cutting her hair was usually chaotic, with Powder squirming and moving around too much, you shrieking at her to stop said movement before you gave her a haircut that was so terrible it’d rival the dreaded barber’s. This silence wasn’t your usual comfortable silence, it was full of things left unsaid on both of your sides, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. 

You tried to ignore the wild thumping of your heart at the closeness of your current position, combing the bangs across her forehead. The way her eyes traced over every one of your features so thoroughly was certainly doing nothing to help. Every one of Powder’s intentions to talk to you properly tonight were rapidly vanishing from her head, the words stuck in her throat. And yet, she couldn’t take her eyes off you. 

The thought of all the feelings she’d had over the past few months, not too different from your own, came back to her now - the nights she had spent overthinking, the fear of losing you, the fear of change, the doubts she’d had, everything was suddenly too overwhelming as she took the comb you were using out of your hand and placed it down. Your eyes widened with astonishment as she brought her hands to either side of your face, leaning her forehead against yours. The fear of you not reciprocating how she felt was drowned out by the overwhelming desire to be close to you, to taste you. 

“What are you doing?” you dared to murmur, pulse rate quickening. 

Powder let out a shaky breath, her eyes quickly darting from your eyes to your lips and back again. You were pretty convinced you were about to explode. 

“Please, tell me you want this as much as I do,” she pleaded quietly, lips brushing yours. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” you whispered back. The sentence had barely left your mouth before Powder connected her lips to yours. You immediately reciprocated, her warm lips pressing deeper against you as she tugged you closer. Your hands went to tangle in her hair, haircut long forgotten. She hummed approvingly, fingers running over your cheekbone, every single doubt and fear between you melted away by the passion of her touch.

When you finally had to pull away to breathe, her forehead rested against yours, eyes bright as she scanned over your equally delighted face. “I’ve always loved you, and that won’t change,” she murmured, her voice so soft and tender despite the weight of her words, your heart skipping several beats and landing in your mouth. 

“I love you too, as if that wasn’t obvious enough already,” you breathed out. Powder giggled in response, the sounds only intensifying by your sudden attack of kisses all over her face. She writhed under your grip, protests not even half-serious as you continued to smother her.

“Stop squirming, I get to do this!” you declared, avoiding her chasing your lips as you pressed your lips against her flushed cheek. Powder finally managed to get a grip on you, strong hands on your hips as she pulled you onto her lap with ease. Just as you lean in to press another soft kiss to the edge of her mouth, she quickly moved her head so your lips landed on hers once again, moving quickly and passionately against them as she brought one hand up to your face again to bring you impossibly closer. Your mind was hazy as you kissed her back fervently, arms coming around her neck to ground yourself. You could barely take a breath in the tiny sliver of time there was that you two are apart, her eyes trained on yours lovingly before she pulls you back in, again and again. 

“I’m not gonna be done with you for a while, babe.”

| a/n: well here it is!! my first time writing this sort of thing and i feel like it kinda showed but posting regardless because i'm so sick of seeing this in my drafts. pls leave a comment or drop something in my inbox on ur thoughts, they're much appreciated !! <3

[kurooku]

nanami kento, very serious looking guy working in the finance department, having a little crush for the new girl who just got hired by the creative team.

you didn’t even know him, not until the christmas dinner party at the office. you were fairly new, only been working there for four months. working for a big company had not always been your goal, but when you got offered the position freshly out of college you couldn’t say no. it was well paid, in the city center, and allowed you to put your degree to use - which was a big plus, since finding a good job lately seemed to be stressful for people with an art degree (or so you were told by basically everybody).

when you first saw him, your heart skipped a bit. he looked insanely good, with his white shirt hugging a toned chest and short blonde hair falling slightly on his forehead. he was talking with your creative project manager, big hands gesturing softly while speaking and a light smile on his face. it was the first time you ever laid eyes on this beautiful man, and as soon as you realized you were staring a bit too hard, he had already made eye contact. eyebrows slightly furrowed, his eyes met yours. before you even knew, you were walking up to him.

“hi” you said, breathily. you felt your hands sweat and damned yourself mentally for behaving like a girl seeing a cute boy for the first time. up close, you realized he must have been a little older. not too much but the confidence he exuded was clearly not the one of someone in his early twenties - nothing like a guy your age. your manager looked around, confused on why you were intruding in their conversation, and eventually asked “hi, y/n. did you need something?”

you blushed immediately, looking away from the beautiful man, realizing there was no good reason to justify your sudden intrusion. you just saw a good looking man and walked up to him as if nothing else was going on. “oh…” your mouth slightly open, your mind racing to find something appropriate to say.

“i think we have not been introduced yet.” his voice was deep and you felt it in your stomach, like music at a concert. your eyes darted up to the unknown man, nodding shyly. “right. my name is nanami kento, pleased to meet you.”

you felt your insides melt while shaking his big hand, mumbling your name and smiling softly. five seconds later, you pretended like someone was calling your name from somewhere where your other colleagues were and excused yourself, quickly leaving just like you did arriving.

watching you walk away, nanami let out a soft smile, hoping the man in front of him was not going to pay much mind to it. “oh, don’t worry about y/n. she’s young, and new. she’s still trying to find her way around here, you know?” your project manager laughed awkwardly, still wondering what was all that about. kento shrugged, watching you from afar. your cheeks were red and the grip on the glass you had in your hands looked incredibly stiff.

what neither you or your protect manager knew was that nanami kento did know who you were. he had noticed you, maybe on your first or second day, when you got lost and popped up in the finance department. your colorful sweater and laptop full of stickers looked very out of place and when one of his colleagues approached you, letting you know that maybe you had walked in the wrong office, you did turn another color from embarrassment and started profoundly apologize. he thought you were cute, and funny, but the more he got a glimpse of you in the hallways, the more he noticed you wherever he were.

the break room, the coffee shop in front of the office building, the elevator. he found you in every room, even if you didn’t even know he was there. it was like he couldn’t get enough of you, like looking at you from afar was something he had grown addicted to in such a short time.

he wouldn’t have called it a crush, but whenever he needed to print something he would carefully choose the printer on the same floor your office was on - hoping that, when walking by, your door would be open and that he could catch a glimpse of you. okay, maybe thinking back, there had been a few moments in which he felt very infatuated by the idea of you…

looking at you from across the room, while zoning out on the conversation he was in, and noticing how sometimes you would look back too, he told himself that yes, that was definitely a crush.

idk i love the dynamics of stoic boyfriend x artsy girlfriend. wtv??? i’m done .

[erinwantstowrite]

What do you think about Jason and Tim relationship? I know that fans are split between hatred for each other or the best brothers. But what do you think?

i fully believe that the writers dropped the ball on what to do with them.

i disagree with what they did with Jason coming back- they didn't have any direction for his character besides that they wanted a huge dramatic twist and Jason has stagnated because of it. him coming back as pretty much nothing like himself but then having zero good writing to convince me of his tragedy?? it's why a lot of people just ignore canon. if they were gonna bring him back, they should have gone in another direction.

if i HAD to keep jason as an anti hero, i would have written him to have a compulsion to protect Robin. a deep rooted fear where he projects his own time, experience, and feelings as Robin onto Tim (and even Stephanie!!) because of the damage that was done to him mentally. jason had long lasting brain damage. he was in a coma for months after he was suddenly revived, he was catatonic when Talia was taking care of him. the Lazarus pit might have healed that, but there would still be residual affects. Jason would feel younger than he is, he'd feel like a stranger in his own body. add on to that with severe cpstd, and you have a recipe for a kid (he was what, 18? 19? physically? when he got to Gotham?) who has a warped perception of his life and relationships. he would have memories that were forgotten to him, not just in his recovery stage but in the time before he died. he would have the feelings of a kid who wanted his dad to save him, who was angry at his mom for hurting him, who now has to struggle with why he ever came back at all. i'm sure he would be angry at everyone. he'd be confused and hurt and he wouldn't have a means to understanding his own feelings. but at his heart, jason was always a good kid, and he protected people, especially people who couldn't protect themselves

it makes no sense that jason came back wanting to hurt robin

so yeah, i'd have written him to be angry and volatile like a teen lashing out at a safe parent to be angry with, but when Tim or Steph were there, he'd dial it back immediately. at first it would be about not wanting to scare them, wanting to keep them safe as a way to help the kid that did die in that costume, somehow and someway. but eventually it would be about Jason seeing them, seeing how capable they are, and feeling protective over them, not just Robin.

but that isn't what happened, because the writers couldn't care less about how trauma actually effects people. they had him attack tim and become basically a sociopath and it felt like a cheap "gotcha!" twist that no one asked for

that being said, their canon relationship isn't terrible. in the beginning they didn't get along at all, obviously. but now, they have a respect for each other. they act like siblings. Tim has said multiple times that he doesn't hate Jason nor holds a grudge. Jason said that he should, but Tim didn't care. sometimes when I read them, I think about how well they might have gotten along if Jason never died. because let's be real, Tim was always headed for the Batfam with or without Jason's death. that's why fics where he's adopted earlier and Jason doesn't die are pretty popular. though in my opinion, they often overshadow that Dick and Tim are also brothers

i think they have a complicated history and relationship but they are siblings. they aren't texting each other everything (Dick and Tim, i fear) or having emotional conversations more than once every seven months but they'll play video games with each other, drop by unannounced to the other's house to eat their food and complain about something, and they work together well. they have a lot in common and they're both previously only children who became second children and eventually middle children. they both experienced neglect though it was very different versions.

in one universe where Tim had died, Jason mourned him. i think that says a lot about how they care about each other

if only the writers would let it STAY that way and not have Jason regress over and over just because they're terrified of character development

[snoopyhq]

Jealous viktor + reader 🙏

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ so with my best, my very best, i set you free

(i love laufey 🗣️ her cover of "i wish you love" with the icelandic orchestra? 2:49 of heaven)

type: viktor x reader

summary: headcanons and a drabble of jealous viktor. headcanons are pre-relationship, the drabble is the established relationship ✪ ꨄ︎

word count: 2415

a/n: OMG FIRST ASK I'M SO HONORED I'M SO EXCITED YIPPEE !!! will be working on the others whenever i have the time, but TRUST i am plotting and scheming <3 any other askers, feel free to drop by! i hope i did your request justice, dear anon.

It was unfair to you, and to him, in his most miserable moments of pure self-pity

Viktor envied those who were healthy. He wished he wasn't born with the circumstances he was dealt. He would trade anything to spend one day with a respiratory system that didn't choke him from the inside out every time he took a breath

He was jealous of you, initially, when you first met

You seemed to have it so easy

Easy laughter, easy conversation, easy friends. You had an established life, you were loved, and you held yourself together with such ease that he sometimes wonders how much you're really holding back

He feels bad for assuming you were dealing with awful problems. But it was very likely. I mean, who was truly that... happy? Well off? At ease with themself and their role in the world? He was probably projecting

And then you somehow, by all the miracles a human could possibly be granted, managed to worm your way into his life and secure yourself there too

Viktor vehemently rejected you at first. He was much like a stray cat. You just gotta continuously give them love on their own terms, and often times, it was slow, and that concept applied to Viktor too

It started with small things. Brief greetings where you called him by name

"Good morning, Viktor."

"Nice to see you here today, Viktor."

"Viktor, you have a good night ok? Get home safe."

Including him in conversations. Commentary about how you two just happened to be in the same place at the same time. The library, a cafe, randomly in the middle of a bustling street

You always had that breezy way of acknowledging things. What a nice coincidence. It was all genuine

You were pleased to be surprised by his presence

Wordlessly holding the door for him, even if you really didn't have to wait. But it was never a big deal, so

He pushed it away. Brushed it off, and tried to forget about it, but those little moments kept circling through his mind like an irritating tape he couldn't dislodge from the disc player, and turning the TV off wasn't doing shit when those scenes were basically burned onto the screen

Like the natural progression of the lunar cycle, Viktor found himself unconsciously expecting you in his life

He can't remember a time when you weren't

Your greetings, your little gestures of kindness, that skill of small talk that meant so, so much to him were cherished like an altar of worship

While he was in no way, shape, or form completely opening himself up to befriending any more people, he began to feel much more natural with you and others you gave your time to

Which brought him to his current bit of emotional turbulence

That prickling in his chest whenever he saw you with other people, giving them your precious words and quality time? Yeah, he shouldn't be feeling this

You were allowed to have other friends! You had people in your life before him, and it doesn't mean you consider him any less just because you spent a moment or two with someone else!

He would tighten his grip on his cane, those mantras feverishly chanting in his mind as he walked in circles, attempting to reign his emotions into a more rational state

He had no right to feel jealous like this, but he couldn't help it

Jayce was his only real companion before, and now that he was a council member, he had less time for Viktor. He had the city to nurture and shape, a big responsibility. The loneliness of the lab was barely a noticeable shift from before

Now, you arrived as if by careless chance, giving him another glimpse, another hit of company, and it was maddeningly cruel to have those doses be in such short time frames

He was given what he needed and wanted, but never fully

Accepting that reality was going to be harder than accepting you truly wishing to be around him, in all his sardonic glory, his blunt nature that had most other people walking away. Just not you

To grapple with this selfish desire was humiliating

He was fully aware of how innately human it all was. If only it were easier. Someday.

For now, he would wait and bask in all the attention and friendship you offered him so willingly

You stood in front of your mirror, going over your carefully put together look one last time. You wanted to look good, and having the outfit fall into place like how you planned it in your head always gave you an extra boost of happiness before you left the house. Straightening the collar of your top one last time, you were finally satisfied.

Viktor was waiting for you in the living room. He stood up when you finally appeared, greeting you with a kiss to your cheek and a murmured "You look enchanting, as always."

You laughed and hugged him.

"And you're dashing, as per usual."

With your arm linked through his, the two of you went on your way. He had planned the date tonight. The winding route led to the sparkling, five-tiered fountain that marked the center of the shopping fair. The flowing water sparkled and danced beneath the fairy lights strung through the evergreens surrounding the space, and orchestral music floated up from where the quintet performed.

You two often went here after a long, stressful week, dining at one of the outdoor tables and idly chatting before hitting a couple stores. Most of the time, it would be the bookshop, the local woodcarver, and then the bakery. You had made it a tradition to buy one another a sweet treat, and it was always a delight to see if your guesses of enjoyment would be met or not.

There was certainly not a lack of other people around you, many of whom were also hand in hand. The center was a popular spot for local students and couples to unwind and spend time together.

When you both had your fill of sights and perusing your respective comforts, you made your way back to the fountain. The musicians had struck up a lively waltz, and many were dancing along now. Both of you shared a look, and moved to join in, albeit towards the edge of the crowds.

Dancing with Viktor was one of your favorite activities. He moved with such assuredness and care for your space, making him all the more captivating in his graces. The respectful placement of his hand on your waist, never going too far and risking your discomfort in public, and never straying away lest he appeared bored, Viktor made sure you were his priority.

After the song concluded, you spun Viktor around slowly to the rhythm of the music drawing to a close, dipping him into a kiss during the final note.

His cheeks were slightly flushed, both from the exertion and from your affection.

"I'm going to grab a drink. We can head home after, if you'd like," you told him, head leaning on his shoulder as he walked with you back up the steps.

"That's perfectly fine. I can hold your bag while you do that."

Oh, Viktor. Ever the gentleman.

You went inside the establishment, and ordered yourself a shirley temple with sweet cream, fully planning to share with him. You knew he had a penchant for the more saccharine in terms of taste. While you waited to order, another patron joined you after placing their order.

"Busy place tonight, isn't it?" they commented.

You turned your attention to them, surprised a stranger was making conversation with you, but you didn't mind. All harmless small talk, after all. You would be leaving soon anyways when your order was finished, so why not pass the time with pleasantries?

"It's one of the most popular cafes around here," you replied. "Friday nights always means live music, so people love to flock here. I should know. I frequent here often." you finished with a smile, and received one in return.

They continued engaging you in conversation, and you soon realized it was taking a bit for your drink. A shirley temple wasn't complicated, and you were worried something was wrong. Maybe they were short-staffed tonight? Did an accident occur in the back?

"Are you worried about your drink?"

"No, not really. More so the workers here," you were honest. Some of them were fellow students you see at the academy, and others knew you as a regular, and you had grown quite fond of the staff as they were of you.

"That's a surprise. You're very sweet."

Their order quickly arrived, and they bid you farewell before departing into the night. You walked up to the counter, asking if everyone was ok. The barista reassured you, saying it was only going to take a little while, and that everything is alright now. Relieved, you went back to your perch.

Outside, Viktor was waiting anxiously. This was taking a lot longer than he had anticipated.

When someone emerged from the cafe, he was tempted to get up and ask them if they'd seen you in there.

Yes, my partner. About this tall, very beautiful eyes, a smile you can't miss. Have you seen...?

God. He was contemplating approaching a stranger just to inquire about you. Luckily (or was it?) for him, they must've sensed him sneaking glances at the cafe and at them, because they approached him cheerily.

"You look a little lost. Need some help?" they asked.

"Oh, it's alright. I'm just waiting for someone."

At that, they perked up.

"It wouldn't happen to be someone wearing the same colored blouse as your vest would it?"

Yes. It was. He confirmed it.

"That's perfect actually! I was just talking to them, and since you know them, do you think they would be interested in exchanging contact information with me? They were quite lovely company, and I wouldn't mind getting to know them better."

Viktor could feel his heart drop and the temperature in his soul rise several degrees. What was going on? Where were you? What had happened in those minutes that you were gone?

"I will... ask them," he attempted to keep his tone even. "Mind giving me your contact information to pass along?"

The stranger happily handed Viktor a piece of paper, their messy scrawl sending a sting of irritation through him. That penmanship was not worthy of you, and would certainly not compare to the intricate scripting of his own handwritten notes and letters to you.

When you finally rejoined him, you could tell immediately something was off. You questioned him about it, and he huffed, telling you not to worry about it as you walked home. He didn't even pay any mind to the bag that hung on your arm, too caught up in his insecurities and worries.

That stranger was so much like you. So approachable. Good conversationalist. He couldn't help but imagine a scenario of you two getting along a little too well, and that made something deep inside him hurt. Clearly, he wasn't as good as keeping his thoughts off his face as he believed, or you had simply gotten better at understanding him, because you promptly asked him again.

"Come on, Viktor. Talk to me. What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?"

"If you knew the full extent of what I'm thinking of, you wouldn't be so quick to call my mind beautiful," he grumbled tersely.

"You can't judge my reaction for me. Spill."

He bit the inside of his cheek. Finally, he confessed. It felt like ripping out stitches from his tongue.

"... someone at the coffee shop. They asked me if I knew you, and then asked if you would be interested in their contact information."

At that, you raised an incredulous eyebrow. Ah. You were blissfully oblivious of the jarring events.

"Viktor, I promise nothing is wrong. We were both waiting for our drinks, and they happened to be making small talk with me. That's all. I love you with my whole heart, and no one else can ever--will not ever--compare."

His heart fluttered. He knew that was the realistic truth, but it was nice to hear reassurance from you anyways.

"You mean it?" he asked.

"I mean it," you said sincerely.

Setting your bags and drink on the nearby bench, you swept him into your arms and twirled him around beneath the streetlight's warm glow.

"I love you," you declared, hands holding his face tightly. Your thumb brushed against the beauty mark above his lip. "And if you ever need reminders of that, you tell me immediately. I will literally drop everything and make sure your doubt disappears completely for as long as I can hold it back."

He gazed into your eyes, his own now slightly misted. Their glossiness reflected warmth and adoration as he took in your face. Seeing the conviction there did something to him. He didn't know what, but he found himself giving in to the urge to just close the distance and kiss you right then and there, open street be damned.

It began to snow. He only realized when he parted from you, the taste of your chapstick still lingering. He looked up, watching the delicate flakes be illuminated by the warm, golden glow. If there was a visualization for the love he felt, it would be that he decided. It all just built and built from all the little things, and filled him with such life it almost hurt.

"We should go home," he whispered, looking back at you.

"Oh yeah, we should. I was going to tell you!" you gasped, running back for your drink and the bag. "They gave me extra cakes and rolls. The last ones of the specialty desserts before their next seasonal delights, so we can share them." you beamed.

"Really? That's quite generous of them."

He wasn't surprised. You were just so damn lovable. He would give you all the baked goods you desired and more, if only for another smile from you directed at him. His fingers intertwined with yours, fondness consuming him as you chatted about the different flavors of the desserts, which ones you were most excited about, and which ones you think he'd like.

He had to agree with your assessments. A dark chocolate and orange mousse did sound quite appealing for him. He already knew he'd let you have the last bite, regardless.

"Oh, and Viktor?"

"Hmm?"

"You can throw away the contact. I don't need it."

I already have you.

[idunnodudeijustwokeup]

I only want the fab 5 (+ Kori later on) when they are absolutely insane about each other. The most ride and die you will ever find.

They will never hesitate to square up again anyone who says anything bad about their team mates (and best friends (and lovers)), consistently checking in with each other even (and especially) when they are not meant/ supposed to.

I want them so fucking codependent but also completely unaware bc what do you mean you don’t constantly update your friend group everytime anything happens. What do you mean you don’t just break into your best friends house and sleep in their bed with them when you feel sad. What do you mean you keep secrets from your friends. What do you mean you don’t join your friends when they shower so you can continue your conversation. What do you mean you don’t know where every single scare on your best friend comes from. What do you mean you don’t call their dad a stupid motherfucker to his face. What do you mean you don’t know everything about your best friends.

I want them to have so many inside jokes that they are basically speaking a different language. I want them to share clothes and makeup and accessories to the point where nobody really remembers who owned what first. ( I want everyone to wear the other people’s merch always)

I want them to speak about their siblings like they are shared between the five of them. I want Tim to ask Donna a question when he is too embarrassed to ask Dick, and Cassie to ask Dick when she doesn’t want Donna to know, etc.

I want the mentors to be the other people’s aunt and uncles. ( I want the mentors and adults in their life to have a group chat where they try and help each other keep track of what their kids are doing bc gods know they won’t just tell them, so whenever they have a sleepover or a mission in one persons city, they let’s the rest of the mentors know. I also want the mentors to constantly send ‘baby’ photos and videos of their ‘kids’ in the group chat)

I want the dating history within the group to be so fucking confusing that you need a collage level lecture to understand it from the outside.

I want all of them to be married to other titans, but nobody really remembers who is married to who, especially since most of them are married to multiple people. ( a mix of Vegas weddings, undercover missions that took a turn, space rituals and traditions they got court up in, bets that were won and lost, and very intense dnd campaigns)

I want their private group chat to have more encryptions and protections than pentagon and the batcomputer put together. I want the GC to be filled with Drunken voice notes, homemade memes, pictures that should never see the light of day, secrets and jokes that would get them into soooo much trouble.

I want them to bring one or two titans along to family and work events. I want people to bet on which of the friends will go with Roy vs who will go as Dicks date to the fancy Galas, bc you can bet your ass they will be there as arm candy on their arms. (Having your friends at the Gala is the only thing that makes going to these Galas bearable). I want them to sneak out every time and go to a random fast food restaurant.

I want their fighting styles to be so engrained in each other that it is impossible to figure out who thought who what, and which of them was the first person to introduce this move into the equation.

I want outsiders to look at them and be confused if one of the OG titans are standing alone without one of the other titans. Do you see the vision?

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt 20

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

A/N: the long wait is finally over. i apologize for the delays because life is so weird and a lot of stuffs happened. hope you all enjoy and let me hear your thoughts.

About You Series

2019, Albert Park Circuit

F1Gossips Daniel uploaded a set of photos in his photography IG account but then he deleted it and then reposted the same set of photos again after a while. However eagle eyed fans caught how Danny deleted a certain picture. Who is she?

User1 new wag???

User28 wasn't danny dating someone else?? User41 is every girl being posted a WAG right away? Can't they be simply friends??

User2 damnnnnn she looks fine

User3 ohmygod does anyone not remember who that woman is????

User7 I thought I was just dreaming when I saw the most iconic WEBBER.

User9 im sorry im confused. Im new to f1, can someone explain to me who is this girl? User12 basically this is Y/N Webber. The Y/N Webber who was present during the iconic Multi21. Used to be linked to Jenson Button and was his PR during his McLaren days. User16 I always shipped her with Sebastian since it was always Sebastian who seem to care for her during the Multi21 shenanigans

User19 hello how come im just learning this now? where has she been the past few years???

User7 well User19 she dropped out of the face of the earth after being involved in a car accident and then shortly after jules' death. Mark mentioned her in Aussie Grit about how she is taking time away from the media to recover. Maybe that's why Danny deleted it.

User45 if Danny removed this then maybe you should not be posting it esp when Mark specifically said that his sister is recovering!!!

F1Fan now that were talking about miss Webber again then let me bring back these old photos that Sebastian used to post on his blogs.

User1 SEB POSTED THIS????

F1Fan yeah, the old blogspot is deleted now sadly. User2 petition for seb to bring back his old blog or maybe make his own instagram!!

User3 didn't Y/N date Jenson?? what a homie hopper

F1Fan Jenson and Y/N went on one date then decided they were better off as friends so please refrain talking shit about her User7 go tell her F1Fan

User8 but just imagine how messy F1 was when Seb and Mark had that famous Multi21 moment then they panned to Y/N saying that she's the sister of Mark and bff of Seb

User11 i miss those days so much User15 this all seems so unreal but I went back to search the race and its very much real

User44 andddd remember when sebastian used to throw her so many birthday parties or those eyes on her during the podium. He was in love with her!

F1Fan I know. I just know that Seb truly loves her. User22 the couple we failed to protect!!!

2019, Bahrain International Circuit

Mark Webber had just arrived in his hotel room and he immediately headed straight to bed. With the heat in Bahrain, he was so happy that he was just interviewing people rather than driving the cars himself. He was almost dozing to sleep when the buzz of his phone jolted him awake.

The face of Y/N hugging him flashed in front of him. Somehow his weariness faded a little bit as he slides towards the green button.

"You look tired" Y/N greeted. Her face filled with a lot of concern.

"I do, thanks for pointing the obvious"

"Get some water, I saw how the drivers have been complaining how hot it has been" Y/N lectured.

It earns a chuckle from the sleepy Mark. No matter how much Y/N has said that she is done with the sports, Mark would always catch her tuning in on race weekends.

"You know people have been talking about you at the paddock" Mark couldn't help but open up the conversation.

"I'm really gonna kill Danny when he comes back" she groaned in response.

The instagram post has definitely generated a buzz within the community even if Danny was able to delete it right away. Mark has been scouring social media with the tags about Y/N and he could tell that everyone misses her around even if it has been years already.

"What are you so afraid of Y/N?" Mark wondered.

The direct question caught Y/N off-guard. The shift in her face immediately shows discomfort and a hint of fear. Mark knew well not to press her buttons but he wanted to understand what's holding her back.

"You told me you were scared before that people will look at you in pity because you are unable to walk but you have been walking for a couple of years now" Mark explained "I just want to understand what are you so afraid of that you are hiding from the world?"

A sigh escapes from her lips before she replies.

"The whole pity thing was true. Its the reason why I walked out" she seems to hesitate with her answer "But now I am afraid that people will hate me for walking away and leaving everyone behind"

"You didn't run away, you needed time"Mark's rationality immediately answered.

"I pushed people away and I hurt them Mark"

Mark could never forget the night that he picked her up from that restaurant in Brazil. Y/N never disclosed the content of the whole conversation but he could infer that both parties were hurt by the exchange of words that night.

"He misses you a lot" he worded it out more clearly.

"Mark, I don't know" she admits "I'm scared"

The older Webber have to run a hand across his hair. If the Mark from 10 years ago heard that he is bridging his sister and his rival together then he would have been punched himself already. This dance has been going on a long time, the distance and time should have healed all those wounds left behind in Brazil.

"Listen, he loves you."Mark assured "He loves you and he still chooses you. I don't think you have been listening to me talk about how much this guy has asked me for updates about you or how much he misses you. I'm sure that he will be more than glad than upset to see you again"

For a moment, the conversation went quiet. He couldn't figure out what she was thinking but when she finally looked back there was something in her eyes. A glimmer of hope and maybe a possible return, Mark felt like he knocked some senses with his speech.

"You really think he will still accept me again?"

Mark nodded his head in agreement.

"You two have suffered long enough with all these pining so do me a favor and just make out or something"

"Mark!" her face was red in embarrassment.

Laughter was soon heard from the other line, something very rare since her recovery. Or maybe Mark is just used to having her smile all the time before the tragedies occurred so he cherished these kind of moments a lot.

Mark vowed years ago to help his sister recover and if he has to settle with an old rival as a brother-in-law then so be it. Anything, just to see that old smiley Y/N again.

2019, Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya

F1Updates Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc is spotted dining in a restaurant with F2 Prema Racing driver Mick Schumacher post-race.

User1 those are my husbandssss!!!

User2 mick in his f1 debut soon??? please let this be real

User3 Oh I want to be in the same restaurant and know what they are talking aboutt

User5 i didnt know mick and charles know each other

User7 they seem pretty close tbh! User10 the grid is basically a small circle so its not surprising to know that mick and charles know each other.

User19 saw them there! they went to this private meeting room place and i think they are celebrating someone's birthday.

User27 omg invasion of privacy??? User19 girl i just saw them carry gifts and overheard them sing happy birthday. tbh i avoided to ask for photos with them because the whole thing seems to be personal and they were trying to be inconspiciuous. User30 who are they celebrating hmm

The candles on the cake shines brightly in front of Y/N. Charles and Mick did quite a remarkable surprise in organizing this birthday ahead of the Spanish Grand Prix. They booked the private room, generated a menu, made the cake (which surprisingly looks good), and gathered the people dearest to Y/N.

She smiles looking at the people around her. It was quite weird that she is now in her early 30s and still spending her birthdays with the people who have been with her during her 20s. Although, the lingering thought at the back of her head is that she knew not everyone she wanted to be here today is present.

With a sigh, she blows the candles out.

“We have to cut the cake and everyone could taste how much of a great baker I am” Charles proudly declares.

“It’s us” Mick interjected.

“Potatoh potato, eh same thing”

The cake has been handed around and the small group enjoyed a little bit of cake time with each other. For this dinner, the talks about race strategy is off the table and they were all catching up with everyone's life.

"So what are your plans?" Jenson wondered "Not everyday you turn 30"

She smiles knowing that this question will be asked.

"I'm going to face some of my fears" Y/N answered.

It immediately perked up the attention of the F1 drivers present at the dinner. They knew that there was just one big fear that Y/N wouldn't want to face for years. Their eyes seem to double as if in great disbelief if they heard the whole thing correctly.

"I'm going back to the paddock" Y/N confirms.

"NO WAY!" "When did this happen?" "I CANT BELIEVE THIS?"

The flurry of responses was expected. It was definitely a surprise even for Mark, who seems to have no clue about this comeback.

"Who are you working for?" Mark wondered.

"I'm not yet going back to Formula 1 though" she clarifies "I accepted a role in Formula 3 as a PR for next year"

"BUT STILL FOR WHO?" Mick asked.

"Piastri"

"So that's why Oscar was asking about you"Mark clapped his hands in the new revelation "I guess were both handling him now ey?"

"An Aussie union team" she agrees.

Everyone is buzzing with excitement and already voicing out how they are looking forward for next year. Although, the elephant in the room, is not yet being discussed, everyone has the same thing running in their head.

'What will happen once Sebastian finds this out that she is back?'

Under the table, Mick and Charles shakes hands with a hundred euro in between them. A silent bet with Mick betting on Sebastian to make a move while Charles votes on Y/N making the first move.

2019, Marina Bay Street Circuit

Margarette was five years old and she told countless times to her Papa that she can take good care of herself. It was not her first time to attend a Grand Prix so one could say that her confidence is off the roof. But now that she is lost in the sea of people in orange, green, and pink--little Margarette is close to tears.

She didn't even know how it happened. One second she was patiently waiting for her Papa to finish signing a fan's cap then she saw Uncle Nando pass and waved at him then her Papa is no where to be seen.

Although the plastic card that hangs around the neck guarantees her access to everywhere in the paddock, she still feel very anxious to be apart from her Papa. It didn't help that the cameras are flashing everywhere and the mechanics are rushing from one place to another.

"Xcuze me!" Margarette tried to stop one of the staffs again but they passed by her again.

The tears were coming out because of her frustration and anxiety when all of a sudden a gentle tap on her shoulder made her turn.

"Hey sweetie, you seem lost" the woman knelt down so she was at her eye-level "what are you doing here?"

With that, Margarette finally broke in tears and hugged the mystery woman. It felt so relieving to see someone that finally noticed her dilemma.

"Oh don't cry, there there" the woman comforted.

Margarette held her tightly, afraid that she will be lost without any companion again. The woman ushered them to the sides so they won't be bothered by any of the rushing crowds.

"I lost Papa, I had to find him pwease" Margarette managed to say despite her crying.

"I will help you find your Papa, your name is..." the woman flipped her the pass to reveal her name and her expression morphed into a shock.

"Margarette Vettel, your papa is Seb?"

The little girl nods her head. It was a common reaction especially since she knew that her Papa won 4 of the championships before. She assumes that the woman is another fan who knows her Papa.

"I'll make a few calls and get someone to get you back to Ferrari's garage, okay?" the woman assures as she pulls out her phone to dial someone.

Margarette knew that it was not okay to trust strangers. Her Papa warned her before about the dangers of telling strangers her name or being too comfortable with one. However, something about this woman is very familiar to her. She racks her mind while wiping her tears away. Maybe she seen her in some of the race TV before.

The woman eventually brings in Charles, her Papa's teammate, and she immediately leaped to hug him.

"There you are cheri, your Papa is so worried about you" Charles exclaimed.

"Papa where is Papa?"

"Your papa is in a meeting so I had to run for him" Charles answered and then directed to the woman "You sure, you don't want to take the credits of handing Margarette to Seb?"

"Not yet Charles" the woman replies "Go and get her back, Sebastian must be worried"

Charles held Margarette's hand and they were heading out back to the Ferrari garage when Margarette turned. Her father always tell that it was rude not to thank people for their kindness no matter how little or big the act was.

"Thank you Miss!" she waves brightly.

The woman smiles back at her and Margarette couldn't help but think that she was very pretty. She would definitely think her Papa would think the same way if he sees her. Margarette makes a mental note of her face so she will point her out to her Papa next time.

2019, Suzuka Circuit

There was a slight drizzle as Y/N walks the track, the sky was in a dreary tone of grey as if it was mourning. The bouquet she was carrying seems to get a little bit heavier with every step she takes. Even after all these years, it still feels unreal for her.

"Hey Jules" Y/N placed the flowers at the asphalt.

Today marks five years since that accident that took Jules away. She remembered how it felt sitting at the garage thinking that it was just a normal accident until she was informed that he wasn't moving. She remembered how she tried to sleep and think of it all as a bad dream but then she wakes up and everything is still happening.

"We miss you already" Y/N couldn't help her tears "I have so much to talk to you about and there is so much that you have missed"

She takes a sit at the track. It was her habit every year to come to Suzuka in October just to sit and talk about what is happening with life. Maybe in her mind, she was just back in the cafes of Monaco conversing with Jules and he never left.

Recounting all the happy memories from the months that have passed from Charles' first win in Spa and Monza to the latest gossips that Jenson passed to her.

"And you must be proud of me, I'm coming back to the track again"Y/N announced "Figured its about time for me to face the music and say hello to an old friend again"

Friend would be the least thing that she could have described Sebastian, he was definitely more than that.

"Sebastian seems to be just at arms length every time but it seems like the universe is not letting us meet. I don't know if that is some divine intervention that's telling me that I'm not supposed to meet him again or maybe I'm overcomplicating things..."

She smiles sadly at the flowers in front of her.

"You would have known what to tell me"

At the parking lot, just outside of the Suzuka track, Sebastian has just parked his car. He glanced at the sleeping Margarette at the back of the car and he gently shakes her awake.

"We here?" she groggily wonders.

"Yes, we are" Sebastian grins "It's time for you to meet someone very special"

Sebastian picks up the arrangement of white tulips while holding Margarette's hand with his other free hand. They are walking towards the entrance of the Suzuka circuit when he noticed a familiar face that seems to be waiting on someone.

"Uncle Mark!" Margarette waved at the Australian driver.

Mark seems to look at them as if they have grown two heads. He seems so shocked to see them standing there.

"What are you doing here?" Mark asked right away "Race isn't supposed to start until a few days later"

"Its Jules and I want Margarette to meet Uncle Jules" Sebastian coolly replies.

Despite the cool weather, Mark seems to be sweating as if under pressure. Sebastian have picked up these little habits from Mark after being his teammate for a while. He seems to be hiding something.

"Uncle Jules too Uncle Mark?" Margarette piped in.

"Yes but Seb we have to talk.."

Sebastian suddenly had the gears in his head turning upon realizing why Mark was here outside guarding. His heartbeat goes faster and it was like there was something within his reach.

"She's there, isn't she?"

One look and that's all it takes, Sebastian felt like his world was going too fast but at the same time it stands still. He felt like he wanted to just drop everything and find her.

"Go, I'll take care of Margarette" Mark encouraged and Sebastian didn't need to be told any further.

He runs down the circuit that he knows very well but this time not in his car but with his own feet. However, his speed seems a little too similar with the car with the way he is running. His cheeks are wet from the raindrops or maybe it was some tears running down his eyes.

It didn't take a long while before she comes to view. She was sitting down with an array of flowers, she seems solemn and talking to the ground. Her hair was more wavy and lighter than he used to remember but she was there. It was still her, after all these years.

"Y/N?"

[volturissideslut]

Hello. Can you write lovesick Marcus Volturi ? 🙏 pleaseee

𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖚𝖘 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎

Im loving this little lovesick series i've got going one. Here's Caius, Aro, James, Sirius, and Remus. Let me know any more characters you want!

Lovesick Marcus who insists on walking with your arms linked, an excuse to always be touching you. He thrives off of the fact you let him guide your way, that you trust him to lead you even if it's just down the corridor, and he's pulling out all the stops too. He'll take the scenic route through the gardens, set a slow pace, and spark up good conversation. He's basically doing all that he can to turn a simple three minute journey to the feeding hall to a way to spend time with you. He just want's to spend all his time with you.

Lovesick Marcus who looks out for you in his every moment. You bent down to get something? His hand is reaching out to the corner of the table near you and covering it, making sure that if you were to hit your head then his hand would cushion it for you. He's so conscious of your wellbeing in every way possible.

Lovesick Marcus who drowns you in riches. Pearls and lace, emeralds and satin, sapphires and pure cashmere. It does something to him inside when he sees you all dolled up, slathered in gems and jewels and wearing the richest of fabrics. He's obsessed with you really, and if he could salivate he would. He just wants to celebrate you constantly so don't tell Aro yet but he's planning another ball.

Lovesick Marcus who gets a star officially named after you. In his eternal life the only thing that has really remained consistent is the stars in the sky, and he's always been very font of them as if they were his guiding light. Marcus finds solace in the night sky which is why he wants to share that with you. He'll take you to the garden one day with a telescope and point it at a star he discovered just to tell you it has your name. He put in give discovery under a pseudonym to official bodies and (with a very large bribe) demand they name it after you.

Lovesick Marcus who physically can't say no to you. Anything you ask for you get - and sometimes you don't even need to ask. Marcus just wants to give you everything the world has to offer, from experiences and material goods. He even considers leaving the Volturi again, but refuses to do so for the sake of your own safety until you are turned.

[jewish-vents]

Lost another friend and need to rant about it. This is gonna be long and all over the place: apologies in advance.

I hate how unfair the world is to us. I hate how all the good leftist principles apply to every minority except us. I hate how the world ensures we see that it treats us differently so we can feel totally isolated (we are) and give up. I hate how we aren't given basic human decency like everyone else. I hate how even as I write this, I fear being misunderstood.

I'm a "Jew of color" and the gentile who I am no longer friends with is POC like me. I had to cut them off because they have more contempt towards me (they also treat me like I'm the representative of all Jews) than white people.

I express my experiences with antisemitism and my sadness about how bad antisemitism is right now? They would tell me I'm insensitive and selfish because Palestine. "Just go outside and you'll be fine" but going outside is how I experience antisemitism. Antisemitism is a real thing, I would say. It's not just a few hate comments on a screen by trolls like Hitlerfan123. We are not safe anywhere and we can't hide. This isn't an exaggeration to trick you like the evil Jew I am. And they would just bring up Palestine again. And again. To shut me down and to shut me out. I would get defensive and they'd tell me that I'm acting like a white person. White tears. White fragility. BUT YOU'RE NOT LISTENING TO ME, I would say. And they'd tell me I'm acting hysterical. That the zionists put me in some delusion where the world is out to get me but I'm actually fine and no one wants to hurt Jews.

"You're acting like a white person who says "we get hate crimed too" whenever a poc talks about their oppression" they said. They made a few comparisons like that. I tried so hard to get them to understand me. To acknowledge our pain.

Don't they know I can feel pain too? I observed how they would constantly post stuff like "minorities must stick together". They would keep an eye on hate crimes for everyone but us and actually listen to their stories. Do they even know how soul crushing that is? To feel so completely alone?

I couldn't even talk about the Holocaust with them. Every time I tried to, they'd have to say "the Holocaust isn't unique and all genocides are connected" at least once. And it's so fucking unfair. Why are we the only ones being told "we're not special"? These "you and your experiences aren't unique" conversations start and stop with us. I would never, ever tell anyone slavery isn't unique because slavery was unique. I would never go up to someone and tell them oh btw the genocide of your people wasn't unique. That's EVIL. And yet it only happens to us. Before anyone misunderstands me, I know right wingers routinely say this to minorities. But the whole bird mocks and belittles us. Regular people go out of their way to remind us "we're not unique or special". I shouldn't have to give a million disclaimers either. Only we are told our genocide isn't special. I honestly wouldn't care if the people who told me that said the same thing about other genocides. But they never do. They'll go on to talk about how unique every other genocide is and then come back to us with "the Holocaust isn't unique". You only ever talk about the Holocaust when it's time to say "everything's connected" and yet you're surprised I call you an antisemite?! If you can't talk about the Holocaust without mentioning other genocides and other minorities, you can't gaslight me into thinking I'm an anti-intersectionality asshole.

And then there's the speaking over us thing. I dumped my ex friends who were all POC/queer/etc for this very reason. I'm on the floor in pain sobbing about antisemitism and you think you know being a Jew more than me. I say something like "hey Zionist can be a slur towards Jews" and you immediately disagree and try to argue with me. "But my other Jewish friend said otherwise so I don't believe you". Or "This random Jew i follow online says otherwise". I have never been so dehumanized.

Can't forget the "weaponization of antisemitism" thing. I hear this all the time now. Who do they think they are? Gentiles have never felt more comfortable. They are afraid to criticize or say anything about other minorities and will even bend for them but with us, it's "Jews cry antisemitism". And as I said to my ex friends, don't be shy. Expand this convo TO EVERYONE YOU PRICKS. Tell POC they weaponize racism. Tell gay people they weaponize homophobia. And they never do. Because anything flies with Jews and Jews alone.

Okay rant over. I hate this world

.

[mandatory-blog-stop-asking]

Replaying ME1 and 2 at least once between releases back in the day as a planned, expected part of the experience is probably a moment in time that's never repeating, because it's so hard to plan around.

People usually play games once and just accept their choices if there are any nowadays, we have the data to show this. A lot of people don't get to the end of games. But ME players were into the franchise very specifically because they were promised a paragon and a renegade experience that was just as interesting, and so they had to make it so you could play both games all the way through like that, and it could continue onto pretty much the same story.

It made a lot of moments very weird, like how in ME2 if you just low-right every conversation choice, you will kill people, because a lot of loyalty missions result in mission failure if you're a jerk to people. Or how some Renegade choices simply lock you out of content that the Paragon side would go on to carry on until 3, because Paragon was the default experience and Renegade was just an after-thought writing-wise.

And, most importantly, the fact that if you didn't have enough "carry-over" points, you were just straight up locked from the major Paragon/Renegade decisions on the left of the wheel that would advance the story to its best conclusions. The Quarian-Geth war could end catastrophically if you didn't play the entire trilogy, instead starting on the third or second game, and I always thought that was wild considering how much that is asking of people.

By making sure people were invested in the system from the get-go, they basically killed "Neutral" runs, or organically choosing anything that wasn't sunk-cost fallacy-ing your way into fully Paragon or fully Renegade. The story was made to reflect that and ultimately left you with two playthroughs instead of several, unless you just want to shoot a different gun instead of seeing what your choices could result in. Cuz it was really only one of two things.

Mass Effect was fascinating, I really miss it, but I think it ultimately means you either lock writers in a cave for a year and force them to write 5 books so that most players play the equivalent of 1, or just make the choices not a selling point. Cuz at the end of the day everyone goes through mostly the same stuff and talks to mostly the same people, otherwise you find out someone's fate through email because you were kinda mean to them in their bedroom once.

The way Mass Effect imported your save files across the trilogy was so interesting. It created this one cohesive narrative across multiple games, that really made it feel like a personal journey. But it clearly came with a lot of limitations, too.

By Mass Effect 3, most of the characters Could Possibly be dead, so they either couldn't be important (Jack, Thane, Samara), or they had to have a similar backup character who could step in as a failsafe (Mordin, Wrex, Kaidan and Ashley).

You can feel the writing team's stress over all this. Kaidan and Ashley essentially merge into a single character depending on who survives Mass Effect 1, becoming interchangeable. Mordin's got this whole thing about how it "had to be him", but as it turns out, it literally didn't, because Padok Wiks can fill his role just fine. The story is generally the most satisfying if as few people die as possible, which creates this urge to get your perfect run. But then it still leaves several characters with a smaller role than they would have had if they couldn't have been dead.

The standout here is Wrex. Because his death gets to matter. If he dies, his brother Wreav takes his place, but this is an instance where it does make a difference. If Wrex survives, he becomes the leader of his people by ME2, and he sets the krogan on a path towards peace and success. But Wreav doesn't care about any of that. Wreav is a warmonger. He will start a war he can't win, and get his entire people killed.

If Wrex dies in Mass Effect 1, it immediately tolls the death knell for the entire krogan race.

[becauseimswagman1]

Lightskin brothaaaaa

Kelvin Harrison Jr. x reader

Warnings: humiliation kink mentioned, voyeurism kink mentioned, suggestive flirtation, hint at bisexual!Kelvin, hint at bisexual!Aaron

----Reader asks Kelvin to have a threesome... kelvin has some qualms about it---- Reader is in a girl group btw-----

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

Life after hard launching your relationship with Kelvin was actually pretty fucking chill.

The two of you went almost everywhere together, unlike your typical couple with busy schedules.

You practically lived in his skin and vice versa. Since y’all have been together, going on two years (secretly at first), the fans have gotten used to him appearing on not only yours, but your group’s social media doing dance challenges. He especially made appearances on Instagram since that’s where you’re the most active. Every chance you got, you posted relatable relationship quotes that the fans immediately knew were talking about Kelvin. You also posted a shit ton of pics of him being the lightskin ass clown he is.

But that’s surface level, let’s get into the real shit.

You wanted to spice things up (as if things could get any spicer, y’all two gots DOWN) with him by having a threesome, but he was NOT having it.

“What do you mean you want me to watch while another man fucks the shit outta you?!”

“Exactly what you think it means! It’s not like you’re not into voyeurism.” You really couldn’t see the problem here.

“As true as that may be, that shit is NOT happening with Trevante of all people!”

….There’s the problem…

“Cause he’s wayyyy buffer than me and I don’t have time for my girlfriend to say mildly mean things to me while she’s about to get fucked by a big strong man.”

“But you’re into that….”

“Shut it! That was ONE time!”

You laughed, “I said you nutted like a weak ass bitch then you literally shot so hard it got on the ceiling. And you wanna try and tell me you’re not into a little humiliation.”

“Fine, fine, whatever. Look, if we’re gonna do it, then who it’s with has to be my choice.”

“...what?”

“Yeah, it has to be. I need to do research first on candidates.”

“Candidates? Is this the presidential election? Baby, what the fuck? And what type of research are we talking about?”

“Don’t worry about that. Just know I got it handled.”

“...Are you gonna survey dick sizes? Is this about him not having a bigger dick than you?”

“No! No! Of course, not- maybe- okay No! It’s not. I’m just gonna do extensive searching for the perfect man. He’s gotta be really fucking hot, but not hotter than me if he’s gonna get my permission to touch you.”

You cooed, “Awe, babe! I knew you were bisexual-”

“Baby, no!”

“... Just a little bisexual…? It’s okay to admit it. We all are.”

“I’m not unpacking that right now!”

All you could do was laugh as he stormed out of the room like a diva.

—-----------------------------------------

After that conversation, neither you nor Kelvin spoke of the topic again. You figured he was taking finding a partner seriously, but not this seriously.

In secret, he had been conducting interviews, asking basic questions. Asking for kinks (if they had any) and their most recent STD test results (and if it’s been a while, then that they get tested). Ya know, standard shit. Nothing serious.

—-----------------------------------------

—--TWO MONTHS LATER—---

Kelvin had finally found the perfect person for the threesome.

The guy is someone he trusts, not only with his well-being but with you and your pleasure in bed.

—---------------------------------

“Baby!” Kelvin steps into your dorm like he lives there. He was so ready for you to stop being so picky about choosing an apartment. You also didn’t wanna leave your girls’ unattended, lord knows they’d burn the place down without you there, but the two of you wanted your own space. Kelvin wants to be able to love on you without someone popping up and interrupting.

“Baby, where you at?” He took off his shoes and walked around your dorm. It just seemed to be just you home today.

“Bae? I’m in my room!” you almost didn’t hear him due to your music being turned up loud through your headphones.

He walked in, “I’ve found someone.”

“Found someone for what?”

He sat next to you on the bed and sprawled out, “Someone for our rendezvous.”

“OH! A rendezvous? Bae, are we going on a quest? The fuck is a rendezvous, call that shit what it is.”

“Fine. I’ve found someone for our threesome.”

You snickered, “There you go.”

“Anyways, this guy is perfect. He’s tall and checks all of our boxes.”

“Oh… ours? As in our boxes? You must be finally ready to unpack-”

“No!” he put his hand over your mouth, “I’m not. Shh! The guy is Aaron.”

Your eyes widened and you spoke behind his hand, “Aaron?”

Kelvin moved his hand, “Yeah. I had listed what you liked about me and the traits you liked, that I didn’t have and came up with an extensive list of guys. And no Trevante wasn’t on it so don’t even ask.”

You slumped down in the bed a bit.

“After talking to all of them, Aaron ended up being the best choice.”

Your brows furrowed, “Wait… does he know it’s for a threesome?”

“Nah. I lied to them all and said I was doing a survey for this underground actor freaky club.”

You held back your laughter. Only your man would do this. “So we gotta ask if he’s down?”

“Yeah, babe. Aaron’s chill though.”

You looked at him, “Riiight, asking your close friend to have a threesome with you and your girlfriend is so easy.”

“Was that sarcasm?”

“You know it was.”

“It’ll be fine. We’ll talk to him over drinks tomorrow.”

“TOMORROW?!” you got up off the bed and started pacing around your room. “The fuck you mean tomorrow?”

Kelvin sat up, “Yeah. I’m ready.”

“You’re ready?!” you slowed down your pacing, “Like actually?”

“Yeah, babe. I’m more than ready, I’m excited.”

You sat down next to him, “If you’re confident then so am I. I trust you.”

He wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your forehead, “I love you.”

“I know.”

He smacked the side of your head playfully.

“Fineeeee. I love you, too, my bisex-”

He mushed your face, “Sweet moment over.” —-------------------------

Tomorrow came way too fast. Luckily it was a rare day that y’all had the day off, so you had the whole day to freak out and get advice.

You walked into your favorite member's room.

“Damn, you don’t how to knock?”

“Hush. I’m having a threesome.” you plopped face-first onto her bed.

She shut the book she was reading, “A what?! I knew you and that lightskin were freaky frogs. Who’s it with?”

Muffled, “Aaron.”

“WHO?!”

You turned over on your back, “Aaron.”

“Oh, he’s hot. Have fun for real.”

“Have fun???? I’m supposed to fuck him in front of Kelvin.”

“That little cuck bitch. Y’all are nasty!”

“I know you ain’t talking, yo ass in a scandal now for sneaking around with most of the motherfuckers in my man’s friend group. You ain’t slick.”

“You didn’t even have to go there.”

“Well, I did. Anyways, I need help.”

“For what? You’re fucking tw…” she gags, “two hot men.”

You narrowed your eyes, “I heard that. You not slick.”

She rolled her eyes, “Whatever.”

“Kelvin and I are discussing things over with Aaron tonight over drinks. I just want things to go smoothly.”

“And things will, sis. Trust in your man, yourself, and most importantly, trust in that Henny.” she chuckled.

You laughed, “Bitch, you so stupid.”

“But that Henny’ll get you right. Nice and relaxed.”

“That’s true.” You got up off her bed, “I’m gonna go start getting ready.”

“Put on something sexy! And tell that lightskin that you wanna try double penetration!”

“Absolutely not!” you walked outta her room.

—-------------------------------

Kelvin walked into the apartment you shared with your group, per usual, like he lived there.

“Kelvin, what’s up?” the youngest member greeted him.

He smiled, “Hey, is she ready?”

“Almost. You want some water while you wait?”

“Nah, nah. I’ll be alright.” he went to the living room and sat on the couch.

“Lightskin!” the second youngest yelled as she sat next to him, “Y’all, uh, tryna have a threesome with A-A-ron I heard.”

Kelvin sighed, sometimes you were the bain of his existence, “Yeah and I heard you’re still getting death threats from fucking half of my friends and getting caught doing it, right?”

She nodded, “Okay okay. Coming with the jokes. I’ll leave you alone. I can see how nervous you are.”

Finally, you walked out of your room, “Is this whore bothering you?”

Kelvin stood up at the sound of your voice and walked over to you.

“Whore?? I resent that.”

“Sure you do. It’s practically tattooed on your forehead.”

Instead of answering, she just slumped down on the couch.

“Ready, babe?” he said kissing your cheek.

“Yeah, let’s go before I get the itch to ring somebody’s neck.”

And with that, y’all were off.

—---------------------------------

“When I agreed to drinks, I didn’t think you would’ve rented out a section for us. Why so secluded for some drinks?” Aaron said.

Kelvin smirked, “Oh, you know we just wanted some privacy for what we plan to talk about.”

“Talk about what?”

“Uh…” Kelvin trailed off, “Babe?”

Oh, he expected you to say this. You guess it’s only right since you were the one who brought it up to him.

“Aaron, we wanna ask if you’d be down to have a threesome with us. Total one time thing and it’s completely fine if you say no.”

Aaron chuckles and finishes his drink, “I think I’m gonna need another drink.”

“I think we all do.” Kelvin motioned for the waiter to bring y’all the bottle.

“Actually, leave it. Thank you,” you said to the waiter.

The waiter set the bottle on the table and walked off.

Aaron poured refills for you and Kelvin first then refilled his own and took a long sip, “Is that why you were you asking me about my kinks? I knew it wasn’t for a freaky-ass actor sex club!”

Kelvin chuckles, “Yeah, man... Sorry, I lied. I just wanted the best guy for this.”

“And what does your girl think?”

You took a sip of your drink, “His girl thinks you’re very sexy and that you look like you can fuck good.”

Aaron smirked, “Looks like you’re in luck, I never leave my partners unsatisfied. You’re both attractive and I’d never miss an opportunity to have two hot people in my bed.”

You smirk, thinking of a sly game to play. You slid your left hand onto Kelvin’s lap, switching between rubbing and squeezing his growing erection, and slid your right foot up Aaron’s leg, just resting the sole of your shoe on his crotch.

“Oh…” Aaron chuckles, “Someone wants the party to start early.”

“Seems like she does. Having fun baby?” Kelvin looks at you.

You smile a little, “Yeah, but I could have more if we get outta here.”

Aaron cleared his throat and then stood up, “I’ll get the check.”

“What a gentleman.” your boyfriend said.

Aaron leaned over to the side y’all were sitting on and said to no one in particular, “I’m always a gentleman.”

“Promise?” you said.

“Like I said, always.” then he walks away, searching for the waiter to pay.

“Kelvin he’s fucking perfect.”

“Yeah. I made a good choice didn’t I?”

“If your dick is anything to go by then I’d say you did. You’re hard as fuck.”

He glances down at his growing pain and holds in a groan, “Yeah, I am. Aaron’s hot as hell.”

“Thank you.” Aaron said, “Let’s get outta here. I got more liquor at my place and ya know, my bed. ”

You and Kelvin stood up quickly, sneaking glances at each other. Y’all knew a time would be had.

—---END—-------

Taglist: @itsbackwoodsbby @femdisa @luvrsluxe @ayeeeitsmiracle @sharmelasworld @papithetia @mzv11

Lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist!!!

[sp6ncers]

platform boots — s reid

summary: reader decides that spencer would look good in her style, and gives him a make over

spencer reid x trad goth! fem! reader. fluff. 2nd person, pov switches.

warnings/content: harassment, mentions of sexual harassment and bullying, established relationship, idiots in love, reader is shorter than spencer, reader gets called a bitch but not by spencer, pet names (silly girl, baby, pretty boy, angel), kissing, kinda insecure reader

wc : ~ 3k

author's note : my 2nd tumblr fic now that im getting the hang of it! this is literally just a cute fluffy fic because i want to and every day i dream of alternative spencer reid 🙂‍↕️ not really any specific season in mind but i pictured longer hair spencer for this, maybe season 4 or 5 :)) sorry if this is ass i got lazy because i so much prefer writing angst ijbol

Being an alternative woman in public is one thing, but being an alternative woman whose boyfriend is practically the complete opposite of you is a whole different issue. You're used to the comments that get thrown at you — after all, you've dealt with that for years, since you started dressing "unconventionally" in middle school. You've learned to ignore the sexualising comments from teenage boys and old men alike, and you can easily tune out the disapproving glares from middle aged women. However, what you aren't as okay with is when people bring your boyfriend into it.

You and Spencer are sitting together on the train home from a museum date, your knees touching as he holds your hand, fidgeting with your rings. You feel the gazes of a group of young boys — no more than fifteen — not far away from where you sit. You decide to ignore them, like you usually do, and you just hope that they don't decide to yell at you like you sometimes have had people do.

Your gaze traces over your boyfriend, and you find yourself unable to suppress a smile. As the days are getting colder, he's been wearing more layers, and it's just so cute. You love the way his scarf is wrapped around his neck and tucked into the dark brown jacket he's wearing. The soft waves of hair that frame his face are even more adorable when they're brushing over the rosiness of his cold cheeks.

Feeling you looking at him, Spencer looks away from your hands and up to your face. "What?" he asks with a smile of his own as he sees your grin.

"Nothing," you reply, nudging your knee against his. "You're just cute."

He smiles shyly, a pink tint creeping across his face. "No, I'm not," he responds. He's never been good at accepting compliments.

Raising a teasing eyebrow, you let a joking scold taint your voice as you say, "Don't argue with me, Dr Reid."

"Yes, ma'am," he chuckles breathily, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

Spencer's eyes fall to the floor, where your chunky platform boots rest beside his battered converse. He always loves it when you wear these boots, he thinks they're pretty with the silver studs you had glued onto them and the maroon laces you'd threaded through the eyelets. He's always admired how crafty you are, how you can make any basic item of clothing into something much more extravagant. Something else he loves about these boots is that they make you a little taller — still not as tall as him, but it makes it easier for him to kiss you.

Moving away from your boots, his gaze follows your legs, clad in two pairs of thermal tights beneath the long black skirt you're wearing. He'd watched you embroider the pattern of roses into the fabric a few weeks ago, practically in a trance. The way your eyebrows had been furrowed in concentration as your fingers swiftly worked was a beautiful thing to watch. He's convinced you could craft the galaxy with your bare hands if you wanted to.

Hazel eyes trace over your thighs and up your torso, flickering across the many layers you're wearing. He counts four — maybe five? — layers, which isn't surprising considering how prone to getting cold you are. The neckline of a lacy purple long-sleeve peeks out from beneath your Bauhaus T-shirt, which is partially hidden by a black zip-up that you had painted a pattern onto in bleach. Over the zip-up sits your baggy leather jacket, something you rarely leave the apartment without. A few necklaces decorate your neck, most of them ones that he had given you.

As his gaze finds yours again, he smiles. A cheesy, cute, I'm-so-in-love-with-you smile. When you smile back, his heart skips a beat. He loves the way the eyeliner cobwebs attached to the thick wing on your eyes shift with the movement of your pretty, black-painted lips.

"You're so pretty," Spencer tells you softly. He looks at you as if you'd just reached into the sky and handed him the moon.

Heat rises to your cheeks at his words — even after almost two years of dating, you still feel butterflies whenever he compliments you. You don't think that feeling will ever go away. You don't want it to. "So are you," you respond, giving his hand a squeeze.

As you say the words, the train slows to a halt at your stop. The both of you wait until it has fully stopped before standing and heading to the doors. As you do, the boys you'd caught staring at you earlier decide it would be amusing to yell at you.

"Emo bitch!" one of them shouts, his voice cracking embarrassingly. It almost makes you crack a smile.

Spencer squeezes your hand, a silent way to tell you it's okay and to not say anything back, but you're already glancing back at the laughing group with a cold glare. You part your lips to retaliate, but decide that your boyfriend is right. You stick to simply flipping them off as the two of you exit the train.

As you look back at Spencer, he gives you a pointed look. You shrug and say, "What? I didn't say anything." But you know you wouldn't have stayed silent if anything had been said about him instead.

You switch sides with him, slipping your hand into his as you adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder. The walk home is quiet and peaceful, thankfully void of any more cruel comments from strangers. Spencer's hand is somehow warm in yours, despite the frosty air and cold breeze that bites at your skin. Fallen leaves crunch beneath your shoes as the wind nudges them across the ground.

When you reach your shared apartment, Spencer quickly turns up the thermostat as you both step inside. As you both shrug off your jackets and hang them up, he presses a quick kiss to your forehead — likely trying to determine how cold you are.

"Do you want a drink?" he asks whilst tugging off his converse. "Tea?"

"No, I'm okay," you reply, plopping down onto the floor to take off your boots. Unzipping one, you let out a little grunt of effort as you tug it from your foot. "You know what I do want, though?"

"What?"

"I want..." You pause as you pull off the other boot, biting your lip. "I want to put make-up on you. My kind of make-up."

His eyes find yours as he tilts his head slightly. "You do?"

You hesitate, unsure if his response means that he is repulsed by the idea and would rather lick the floor of your building's elevator than let you do that. Looking away, your voice falls quieter as you reply, "I don't have to. It was just an idea. Sorry. It was stupid."

"Hey, silly girl." He sits in front of you on the floor, moving your boots out of the way as he shifts closer. "It's not stupid. Look at me," he says gently, tilting your chin up with his index and middle finger so that he can look into your eyes. "It's not a stupid idea. And you don't have to apologise. If that's something you want to do, I'd be more than happy to let you, okay?"

The slight pout on your lips is so adorable he feels like his heart might explode.

"Are you sure? You don't have to say yes," you mutter shyly. "It doesn't matter, really. You can say no, it's—"

"Baby," he cuts you off in a gentle voice, his tone one that makes your stomach flutter. The motherfucker always knows what to say and how to say it to shut you up. "I'm sure."

Your lips twitch into a nervous smile. He thinks it's so incredibly cute how you're so shy and sweet when most people would assume other things about you based on your appearance. He thinks it's silly how people make assumptions on others based on how they dress. He thinks a lot of things, but his mind goes blank when you lean in and kiss him.

Immediately kissing you back, he smiles against your lips and rests his hands on your waist to pull you just a bit closer. Knees knocking together, you break the kiss with a giggle and tuck his hair behind his ear.

"Do you want to do it now, or later?" he asks.

"Now. Is that okay?"

"Of course," Spencer says, smiling as he kisses you once more before standing up and pulling you to your feet.

So you head into the bathroom together, but you decide he's too tall for you to be able to do it properly when he's sat on the counter. He laughs when you tell him that, and disappears into the bedroom while you gather the rest of your make-up. Once you have everything, you follow after him into the bedroom.

"Sit on the bed," you instruct.

"Yes, ma'am," he replies with a laugh, sitting down with his back against the headboard.

Giggling softly, you walk over and set the various items in your arms on the nightstand. As you move to sit on the bed, straddling his lap, you shrug off the zip-up and drop it onto the other side of the bed. Even while you're doing something as simple as reaching over to grab a headband, Spencer still looks at you like you are the eighth wonder of the world.

You smile at him as you gently push the headband into his hair, keeping it back off his face. It's gotten so long recently — not that you're complaining. You love running your hands through the soft strands, curling them around your fingertips. "You're so cute," you mutter. "My pretty boy."

You can feel the heat of his skin beneath yours as you cup his face between your hands and press a sweet kiss to his lips. Lips parting, tongues teasing each other's, his hands running up and down your sides, pulling you closer by the small of your back.

You break the kiss with a giggle, a string of spit attached between you. "Okay, we need to get started," you say through laughter as he licks his lips.

"One more kiss," he murmurs, leaning in and pecking you gently.

Smiling, you stroke his cheek for a moment before straightening up and reaching over to grab your moisturiser from the nightstand. Spencer watches you intently as you flick open the cap and squeeze some out onto your fingertips.

"It's cold," you warn him before you swipe the moisturiser onto his cheeks and gently rub it into his skin.

He doesn't mind the coldness of the liquid, just focusing on the feeling of your hands on his skin. He is pretty sure that your touch could make anything better.

He isn't sure if he is supposed to have his eyes open or shut as you dab some more onto his face, but he keeps them open so that he can look at you. The look of concentration on your face is so pretty.

He also isn't sure what to do with his hands — should he be touching you, or would that be a distraction? He keeps them lightly resting atop your thighs, knowing you'd tell him if you wanted him to stop touching you.

As you finish moisturising his skin, letting it sit for a few moments, you wipe off your fingers on a tissue and say, "You have really nice skin."

"That sounds like something a serial killer would say," he comments teasingly, a smile on his face.

"Shut up!" you giggle. "It's just a fact. Your skin is nice."

Swapping the moisturiser for a bottle of primer, you fall quiet as you flick open the cap. Soft hums of concentration vibrating through your lips, you rub it into his skin so that the make-up will actually stick to his face. His fingertips lightly trace rub circles onto your thighs as he watches you with nothing but awe and love in his eyes.

As you're blending out the white foundation onto his face with a damp beauty blender — he thinks that's what it is called — he wonders if he will look silly when you're done. Of course, he has never thought that you look silly when your make-up is all done, but he isn't you. To him, you look beautiful whatever you wear, however you present yourself. He's just not sure if this will suit him. Although, even if it looks bad on him, he'd let you do it over and over again until the end of time if it would make you happy.

Now that there is foundation spread evenly across his face, his skin feels kind of weird, but not exactly in a bad way. It almost feels tight, like something is pulling on it. It is a strangely nice sensation.

Spencer tries to stay still as you pat in the concealer beneath his eyes, his eyelids twitching slightly.

"Stop moving," you scold playfully, pausing your actions for a moment.

"I'm trying," he replies, his voice a breathy chuckle.

"Try harder."

"You're so bossy."

"You know you love it."

He smiles, amused. You're right, he does love it. He loves anything and everything that you do. Since the moment he met you, he has been completely whipped. Obsessed. In love.

After finishing the grey-ish contour on his nose and beneath his cheekbones, you start on the eyeliner. You decide to do something simple, rather than the more elaborate designs you sometimes do on yourself. Beginning to draw a wing from the corner of his eye, you will your hand to not shake like it usually does; you don't want to end up getting overly frustrated and having to redraw it fifty times.

Somehow, it goes smoothly, and you finish both wings without a problem. You use a black eyeliner pencil on his waterlines and add a smidge of dark purple eyeshadow to his lids before curling his lashes. How come men always have such luxurious eyelashes? you think.

"Okay, I'm not gonna put on false lashes, I'll just do mascara," you tell him, leaning over to grab one of your unused mascaras from the nightstand.

As you do, you shift too much weight and almost fall off the bed. Quickly, Spencer leans forward steadies you with a hold on your waist. "Careful there, angel," he laughs in a teasing tone. "You're so clumsy sometimes."

"Well, says the one who spilt coffee on the counter twice in one day last week!" you reply, giggling.

"I never claimed to not be clumsy," he counters, patting your thigh. "JJ is right when she says that my coordination drops off when I'm thinking."

"A wise woman," you muse.

"Very."

You smile, kiss his forehead, and grab the mascara. As you twist it open and wipe off the excess, you say, "Okay, just blink when I say to, okay?"

"Okay."

So you apply mascara to his stupidly nice eyelashes, dab a tiny bit of highlighter onto the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose, and put a simple lip combo on his beautiful lips.

"Okay, there. I think it's done," you say. Quickly, you take it back. "Wait, I need to do your hair."

"Alright," he chuckles as you take the headband out of his hair, discarding it onto the nightstand.

You head off into the bathroom to grab your hairbrush, returning a moment later with it and a few hair ties. You manoeuvre him into the position you want — sitting more in the middle of the bed — and sit behind him on your knees.

"Your hair is so soft," you murmur as you gently run your fingers through it.

"You say that every single time you play with my hair," he points out, a smile in his voice.

"And it's true every single time," you reply as you start to brush his hair.

Spencer hums contentedly, his eyes falling shut as you brush his hair. He's always loved when you touch his hair, whether that is stroking it, twisting it around your fingers, or pulling it. He loves it all.

As you brush his hair, taking your time, you wonder if he will like it. You wonder if he's enjoying this. You wonder if he liked letting you put make-up on him.

"I would, maybe, dress you up in my clothes, but I don't think any of them would fit you."

He laughs softly. "Yeah, probably not."

"And my boots certainly wouldn't fit your gigantic feet," you tease.

"Maybe your feet are just tiny," Spencer counters jokingly.

When you're satisfied that his hair is thoroughly brushed, you part it down the middle, separating it into two even-ish sections. You braid each half, something you have always wanted to do with his hair but never asked out of fear of him saying no. But right now, he isn't protesting, which you take as a good sign.

"Okay, all done," you chime happily, letting the braids fall onto his shoulders.

"Done?"

"Mhm, done."

Hopping off the bed, you take his hands in yours and lead him into the bathroom. Before you step inside, you make him cover his eyes as you tell him, "Okay, you can't judge it because I'm not used to doing make-up on other people."

Spencer nods, practically itching to see his reflection. "I won't judge. I promise."

"Good. Okay, you— you can look now," you reply, standing beside him and looking at his reflection in the mirror as he moves his hands away from his face.

His reaction is hard to decipher, but at least he does not look repulsed. After a moment of studying his face, his lips twitch into a smile.

"It looks good."

"Really?" you ask, rocking back and forth on your feet as you fidget with your sleeves.

"Yeah. I— I mean, it's obviously not something I'm used to, but it's... cool," he says with a soft laugh, turning to face you.

You smile, biting your lip. "Good. Okay, good. I'm glad you don't... you know, hate it."

Smiling back at you, Spencer wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. "I could never hate anything you do."

"You're so cheesy."

[rederiswrites]

Conversations with Lace

[now up on AO3]

“So you’re gonna go with ‘Rook’, huh?” Lace said it through a mouthful of brown bread and cheese.

“Sure.” Arden scooped another glob of polishing compound up and started buffing out the wing of his knee armor. There was a dent he’d need to have seen next time they were in a big town. The smell of linseed oil and tallow was familiar and grounding.

“You don’t have to. Varric gives everyone nicknames. You can ignore it.”

“No, I uh…I like it.” He scowled down at his work. “Kaffas. This strap is going to break, soon. I think I’m out of replacements.”

“Fine then. Rook.” Lace grinned.

They sat for a minute in companionable silence, Lace finishing her roll, Arden rubbing the polishing cloth in practiced circles over his armor. They’d gotten close quickly over the last couple months, and not just because they were together nearly every day. Both had open, friendly natures, and as they crisscrossed northern Thedas, they’d whiled away the leagues in talk and laughter. 

They’d been staggering drunk together in Starkhaven, crawling from bar to bar while Varric took care of business in the palace, and surprised the shit out of would-be muggers. They’d hung upside down in snares together for two hours once after an encounter with one of Solas’s agents. They’d pretended to be Carta thugs for a few days once, while Varric tried to wheedle information out of a provincial Altus landowner, and mocked each other’s acting for weeks. 

“Never had a nickname before,” Arden said abruptly.

“What, never? Really?”

“I mean, basic name-calling stuff from the other boys as a kid, but I don’t think that’s the same idea.”

Lace looked surprised. “Your parents didn’t call you something? Like my ma calls me Sweet Pea, that sort of thing?”

“Nope. Just Arden. Young Master Mercar or Arden Maximus if I was about to be in trouble.”

“Wait. Your middle name is Maximus?” A positively evil grin was starting to spread across Lace’s freckled face.

Arden rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, go ahead. I’m well aware it’s incredibly pretentious.”

“Maximus!” By now she was giggling madly.

“Welcome to my childhood.”

“Maker!” Lace giggled at Arden’s disapproving look. “Alright, then, I’ll use Rook. Maximus.”

….

“Do you think they’re real fish?” Arden asked.

They stood side by side, staring into the fish tank. It was beautiful, but Arden found it unsettling. The glass and water distorted the light and made distances strange, but Arden couldn’t decide if he could see a back wall to the tank.

“I mean, I don’t know, but that one’s a Calenhad sunfish. I’ve caught plenty of them. Stupid little wastes of bait.”

“Yeah but what I mean is, is it a real Calenhad sunfish or whatever, or just…I don’t know, like a magic picture of one?”

“No idea. This place is weird.”

“I mean,” Arden went on, “if they’re real, what do they eat? There’s not even a place to put food in.”

Lace glanced up at the corners of the room. “Huh. You’re right. Maybe they’re real, but they live on magic. I dunno.” She left Arden scowling at the fish, and left to poke around the rest of the room. “You thinking of setting up your stuff in here?”

“What? No! Why would I do that?” Arden sounded startled.

“I thought maybe the fish would remind you of the coast.”

“Yeah, a nice seaside vacation at Marnus Pell inside a fish tank. No, I’ll find a nice little room with no windows and no weirdly endless fish tanks and pretend I’m somewhere normal.”

Lace shrugged. “Suit yourself. I like the old sunroom or whatever it was. The dirt makes me feel better.”

Arden grunted an acknowledgement, still frowning at the darting fish.

….

The grinding of stone shifting against stone was deafening for a few seconds. As the last echoes died away, Arden and Lace grinned at each other.

“I did it, Rook!”

“Maferath’s ass, that’s amazing.”

“What about that one? Can you move that one? If it was just a little taller, we could skip up to the next turn of the path.”

Lace concentrated for a second.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “Doesn’t feel right.” Arden gave her a quizzical look. “Don’t ask me to explain. I don’t know. There’s just…a feeling. Like some stone talks to me and some is just…stone, I guess.”

Arden shrugged. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Give me a second,” Lace said. She moved slowly along the base of the hill, eyes narrowed in concentration. Arden trotted after her, keeping an eye on the woods. Nowhere was completely safe in Arlathan, in his experience.

“Wait! Here!” Lace held out her hands and scowled fiercely, and just ahead of them, a series of rocks rumbled and groaned into motion. When they finally stopped, there was a rough giant’s staircase up to the next turning of the path. “I did it!”

“Fuck yes you did!” Arden’s smile crinkled his eyes up and pulled in the scar on his cheek. “That’s amazing, Lace!” He put out an elbow, leaning on her head in what had become a habitual gesture of teasing affection. “Oh! Uh–” Arden let out something between a whoop and a yelp and staggered sideways.

Lace reached for him, grabbing his arm before he could fall. 

“Nope–whup!” Arden listed a couple steps forward, then barely caught himself before falling backwards. “I don’t–” His eyes rolled up in his head, and he keeled over. Spongy wood chips and rollie pollies scattered in a tiny explosion where his head hit a rotten log.

“Rook! Maker’s breath, Rook!” Lace rushed to kneel next to him, grabbing his shoulder. This time, though, she saw the ghostly lines of blue spreading from her hands. She jerked them back as if burned, scrambling away from Arden on hands and knees. “Maker’s breath!”

“Fine! I’m…fine,” Arden said, very unconvincingly. “Hoooo…gimme…second…” On the third try, he managed to roll up on an elbow. “Kaffas. Vishante kaffas.”

“Lyrium! It’s like I’m infused with lyrium! Oh, Maker, he’s lyrium addled. What if it’s permanent! What have I done?”

“Noo I’m betting. Bettering. Getting…better. Getting better! See?” Arden managed to push himself up until he was sitting. “Vishante kaffas,” he repeated, cradling his head in his hands. “‘S like I’m drunk.”

“Sweet Andraste, you scared the shit out of me,” Lace breathed, clutching the ground at her knees.

Arden snorted. “Pretty funny, though.”

“No, it is not! I could have really hurt you! Lyrium is dangerous, Rook!”

“Come on. Li’l bit funny. Ass over teakettle…lookit–lookit these poor bugs.” He gestured to the scattering of spongy orange wood and insects around him. “Like a Titan. Fall on their city–boom!” Arden giggled, ending on a loud snort.

“How in Thedas am I going to get you home?” Lace moaned. “Can’t even touch you. Andraste, give me strength.” She sat back, resigned to waiting it out. 

Arden’s head lolled to the side, and he snapped it back upright, wheezing with quiet laughter.

….

“You’re staring,” Lace said quietly.

Arden turned his head away from the other corner of the great hall, where Lucanis was cooking, to look down at her. “I’m not allowed? He’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah? Bellara’s gorgeous. Neve’s gorgeous. I know you like girls, too.”

“Sure. You’re gorgeous. What’s your point?”

“My point is–wait, I’m–oh gosh, no, I’m not–nope! Nope, I’m not letting you distract me like that! My point is that you’re staring at him specifically. Not just because he’s gorgeous.”

“Maybe so.” Arden returned his attention to Lucanis, who was busy chopping vegetables with hypnotic skill.

“Rook, he’s possessed! He’s a possessed assassin!”

“I know. And he’s mourning his grandmother, or at least I’m pretty sure he is. You kind of have to guess, with him. And he’s just been imprisoned and tortured for a year, and now he’s living in our pantry like a rat terrier. And also I’m kind of his boss? Or his employer. That isn’t actually paying him.” Arden pulled a wry face. “Don’t worry. I’m just enjoying looking.”

“I’m not convinced,” Lace said. “Plus, he’s looking, too.”

“He–” Arden sat up suddenly, banging his shin against the little table between them. “Kaffas!” He grabbed his leg, rubbing vigorously. “He’s looking?”

Lace sighed. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you should say more. Really?”

“Mmmmm. Yes, he’s looking at you, sometimes. Why do you care, hmm? I thought you were just enjoying the aesthetics?”

“Alright. There might be a little, tiny crush.”

“I knew it!”

Lucanis glanced over at Lace’s outburst, and she waved him away, smiling unconvincingly. He watched them for a moment longer before turning back to his cooking.

“I knew it,” she hissed again, quieter this time. “Rook, you can’t seriously be thinking of…of whatever.”

“No, I know. I know, Lace. That’s why I’m just looking.”

[elkian]

A couple months ago I was having a conversation with my mother about books and mentioned The Murderbot Diaries, and she was surprised because she doesn't usually hear me talk about reading sci-fi. I'd never thought about it that way but I can kinda see why she said that, and it made me realize something about why I like Murderbot and Martha Wells' writing so much.

I think part of the reason fantasy is my primary genre is because it requires the least amount of prerequisite knowledge to get into. Every 'verse is going to have a different way of doing magic, even if it's similar to another's, and it's impossible to know that going in.

I think I have some experiences with sci-fi that tried too hard to be "realistic" and required the reader to either know, or be willing to read, a lot about physics and rocket science and so on before actually getting into the story. Obviously this isn't a sweeping statement one way or another, but I think it put me off of reading a lot of sci-fi because it sounded like homework, basically. And I think also it tended to be a little dry in an effort to sound 'mature' - this isn't your comic book science, this is REAL SCIENCE for SERIOUS readers.

Murderbot, by contrast, is incredibly accessible to the average reader. This is because Martha Wells understands what's important to the story: TMD doesn't go into the granular mechanics of FTL travel because Murderbot itself has the baseline amount of necessary colloquial knowledge (you go into a wormhole, stuff happens, you absolutely do not want to leave the ship while in the wormhole) and moves on. 

Murderbot having the shittiest, cheapest educational downloads possible isn't just convenient to handwave nitty-gritty worldbuilding, but it is crucial to Murderbot's personality and characterization. Murderbot -all SecUnits, or at least Company SecUnits, according to Murderbot's notably unreliable narration- doesn't know shit because it was made by cheapskates to be rented to cheapskates and potentially trashed during the rental period. And there's good in-universe reason for the Company to avoid granting unnecessary knowledge to its products - just look at what Murderbot accomplished with its bare-minimum education.

(Sidenote: this concept comes up in the IDW Transformers comics, specifically More Than Meets The Eye and Lost Light, with MTOs starting with major education downloads and that slowly transitioning to them getting the bare minimum as the war raged on and they became more and more apparently expendable.)

Anyways, it's refreshing to read when the author understands what kind of knowledge is actually important to the story. If the whole thing was, for instance, from ART's perspective, the knowledge available would be different due to ART's much greater personal library of scholastic knowledge and general know-it-all personality. Murderbot, by contrast, can get away with lines like "it's an anagram (not an anagram, the other thing)" and terms like "feed device" and "fauna", which leaves the world much more ambiguous to the reader -allowing the imagination to play- and highlighting that which is and isn't important. Murderbot is an action hero in the narrative most of the time, and the writing reflects that.

(Thinking of sci-fi I did read and get into and enjoy, it's a lot of stuff like this - Mary Shelley's Frankenstein*, HG Well's Time Machine, and Isaac Asimov's I, Robot come to mind, and most of them handwaved the specific scientific elements in service of actually telling the story; the last kind of used the scientific elements to tell the story, but presented them in a way that was easy to understand and get into. Honorable mentions go to arguably Gideon the Ninth (idk if it's a scifi but it's scifi-adjacent at the least), Iron Widow, and This Is How You Lose The Time War, which all have scifi elements that are easy to absorb one way or another due to the narration.)

*I read this for class and let me tell you, if I could go back in time and beat Percy Shelley to death with a shoe before he suggested all his stupid unabridgements I would do it in a fucking heartbeat, that was the only real problem I had with reading it.

[vettedfundraisergaza]

Last night, I was watching an episode of House M.D., a scene where House describes the side effects of chemotherapy. The words hit hard, he spoke of muscle spasms, unbearable pain, vomiting that feels like your throat is being torn apart, and the constant battle between life and death, and the feeling of death looming over every moment. It was hard to watch.

But as I sat there, I couldn’t stop thinking about cancer patients in Gaza. I thought about the unimaginable strength it must take to endure such pain, not just from the chemotherapy itself, but while living in the midst of genocide, with limited access to medicine, hospitals, or even basic care.

I thought of Islam’s mother, who was recently diagnosed with cancer and has just started chemo. How does she bear it all? Chemotherapy is a battle no one should face alone, let alone under these conditions.

Islam is doing everything he can to support her, but they need help. If you can contribute, even a little, you can make a difference in their fight.

This is a conversation between me and Islam from earlier.

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[malsmind]

better than him

bsf!matt sturniolo x reader

summary: your ex boyfriend comes up in a conversation with matt, you never would’ve expected your night to go like this.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, car sex, public sex, riding, pet names (baby, sweetheart), matt being a little proud of himself at the end

authors note: hello pretty people! this is a pretty rushed one and idrk about it. lmk what u think!!

english is not my first language!

you and matt were on a little late night drive. you’d occasionally go on night drives when you were bored, had a rough day, just wanted to spend some time together, deep talk and just listen and vibe to some good music. tonight, you guys were just bored out of your minds.

matt was driving you guys around, you were in the passenger seat, skipping trough your spotify to find a good song. while scrolling, you got a notification from snapchat, your eyes darting up on the screen.

“2 years ago today” it read.

you clicked on it, your eyes narrowing slightly as you analyzed the memory flashback that snapchat gives everyone. to your surprise, it was pictures of you and your ex boyfriend that you were almost 100% sure you deleted. you weren’t sad, or anything. you were over him pretty much immediately after he broke up with you. your guys’s relationship wasn’t the best, the short answer is that he’s basically just a very immature and insecure pussy.

matt noticed how quiet you suddenly were and how your eyes were fixated on your phone, but not scrolling trough your spotify.

“you good?” he pulled you out of your trance, quickly glancing over at you before his eyes were back on the road.

you turned your head towards him. “hm? oh, yeah i’m fine, sorry.” you answered causally, closing snapchat and going back to what you were doing before.

matt didn’t fully believe you, but decided to not push it any further. you’d finally settled on a song and the both of you sat in a comfortable silence between each other, just listening to the music coming trough the speakers of matt’s car. you couldn’t help but think about the pictures you saw on your phone just moments ago, mentally laughing at yourself for dating the guy. matt knew all about your ex, how things were back then, how he treated you, how and why it ended. you sighed, unlocking your phone again to open up your snapchat memories. you scrolled trough the few pictures you apparently never deleted for a few minutes, not even realizing matt was pulling into some empty parking lot. you went trough the pictures, pressing delete on all of them, you didn’t need any reminders of the time you wasted on someone.

the car stopped and you were now parked. matt glanced over at you, recognizing a familiar face. he frowned, leaning over a little to get a better look at what exactly you were doing. “wait, is that your ex?”

you turned your head to look at matt, looking down at your phone again at his question, then back at him again. “yeah, snapchat just randomly gave me a notification. i honestly thought i deleted every picture” you huffed out a small chuckle, shrugging.

matt nodded, his eyes trained on your finger pressing the delete button on the pictures. he leaned back in his seat. you put your phone down shortly after, matching his movements and leaning back in your seat as well. the car was quiet for a moment before matt broke the silence again.

“you don’t miss him, do you?”

you turned your head to look at him with a frown, “you seriously asking me that?” you snort.

he shook his head, smiling. “nah, i’m just messin’ with you.”

you guys had talked about him a few times before, using him as a joke in various situations or whenever he maybe comes up. matt knew almost every detail of you and your ex’s relationship, which is why he never understood why you even dated him in the first place.

“y’know, i really don’t get how you could actually be with that kid, let alone for two years.” he chuckled.

you shook your head, the reminder of how stupid you were for being with someone like that making you cringe. “i don’t either, don’t even start.”

you guys were pretty open with each other about anything. more intimate things like your sex life came up too, just not a lot. deep in thought, you let out a small laugh, thinking about how you’ve spent two years with a guy, fucked numerous of times, but you never even came.

matt looked over at you when the small noise left your lips, a small, knowing grin forming on his face.

“what?”

you couldn’t help but laugh more when he asked you why you were laughing in the first place.

“nothing, nothing. just thinking about how that man hasn’t even managed to make me cum. he’s out there believing he did, poor girls.”

matt’s expression changed to a surprised one. you guys hadn’t really talked about you and your ex that way before, maybe one or two remarks about him being bad in bed.

“you’re kidding.” he sat up, turning his whole body towards you.

“he hasn’t made you cum a single time? in two years? nah, come on, you gotta be fuckin’ with me.”

you laughed at his disbelief, shaking your head.

“no i’m serious! he didn’t give a fuck about what i wanted or liked. he just never really made me feel good.”

matt sat there, still visibly shocked to the new information. he thought to himself, his mind quickly going places it shouldn’t be going. he couldn’t help but think about the way you probably never got to feel good during sex due to your ex not caring about what you liked.

“so no man’s ever made you cum?”

you shook your head no.

he was hesitant to speak his mind, scared he might weird you out or ruin your guys’s friendship. he didn’t even know why exactly he was thinking about how it would feel to be the one to make you feel good. eventually, he decided to just speak up.

“would you wanna have a man make you cum?” he asked, studying your face and your reaction.

a slight frown formed on your face, unsure of how to answer or what exactly he was even trying to say. you simply shrug. “i guess, yeah.”

“do you want me to make you cum?”

you didn’t know what to say. you were speechless. you couldn’t help the heat rise to your cheeks, causing you to look away from him. did you want that? he’s your best friend, surely this would make things… weird, right? matt grew a little anxious at your reaction, not sure what to do. he mentally face palmed himself for even thinking like that. why would you ever even-

“okay.”

matt was pulled out of his thoughts, looking back at you to meet your eyes again.

“what, really? you don’t.. have to i understand if-“

“no i want to.” you cut him off, leaning slightly closer to him.

he nodded, his eyes darting down to your lips, inching closer. it didn’t take long for him to fully lean over the middle console of the car and put his lips to yours. the kiss was gentle, his lips moving against yours at a steady pace. you pulled away first, matt matched your movement, looking at you.

“you wanna get in the backseat instead…?” you asked and he nodded in response.

you guys quickly climbed into the backseat, your legs quickly straddling matt’s lap and his hands landed on your hips. you leaned down, connecting your lips once again, this time more intensely. your lips moved in sync, matt’s tongue grazing against your lower lip and you happily let him slide it past, deepening the kiss. his hands slid up and down your sides, lips detaching from your own as they traveled down your jaw, leaving a trail of small, hot kisses down to your neck. you could feel yourself get wet from the tingling feeling of his lips and tongue against your neck, subconsciously grinding your hips on his lap. he smirked against your neck, feeling your already needy body crumble under his touch and kisses. he can’t help but wonder how long it’s been since you actually felt good.

matt’s hands traveled underneath your top, feeling your soft skin underneath his fingertips. he took his hands out, gently pulling the fabric of your top up. you helped him, putting your arms up and pulling it over your head. his hands immediately cupped your tits, kneading them gently. he leaned back, removing his lips from your neck to look up at you.

“you’re so beautiful.” he breathed out.

matt’s hands slowly made their way down to the button of your jeans, his eyes studying your face.

“are you sure you wanna do this?”

your eyes went from his fingers hovering over your jeans up to meet his eyes. you nodded. “i am.”

matt didn’t waste any time after that, unbuttoning your jeans and tugging them down, your hips leaning up to help him pull your jeans off. his hand came down to your clothed heat, gently pressing a thumb over your clit, rubbing circles trough your panties. your bit your lip, watching him work his fingers on you. you quickly grew impatient, leaning down to kiss matt’s lips again, your hands sliding down his chest, down to the waistband of his sweatpants. he took the hint and helped you tug his pants down along with his boxers. you bit your lower lip at the sight of his size, taking it into your hand and sitting up. matt helped you guide yourself down onto his cock, your breath hitched when his tip slid into your wet cunt, not used to the size. once you fully sat down, a small moan left your lips and you squeezed your eyes shut, getting used to the feeling of matt buried deep inside of you. his breath grew heavier, studying your expression.

“just.. just tell me if you wanna stop at any point.”

“mhm, let me just.. get used to it for a sec..” you breathed out, carefully moving your hips.

matt’s hands guided you slowly bounced up and down on his cock, his head leaning back at the feeling. you were so tight, squeezing him so perfectly.

“fuck, you feel so good sweetheart.” he groaned, bucking his hips up to meet yours.

your moans grew louder when his thrusts met your bounces, his tip brushing against your cervix. your hands gripped his shoulders, your hips stuttering slightly with a lack of experience for this position. regardless, you were doing amazing. matt noticed the way your legs grew tired already.

“you okay with me trying something baby?” he asked and you nodded, moans leaving your lips.

matt put his hands around your waist, pushing you up a little. he put his feet to the ground properly before picking up the pace and bucking his hips up, fucking into you harder. you couldn’t help the loud moans and yelps of surprise at the newly added pleasure, your head falling down into the crook of his neck.

“fuck, fuck, harder, please.” is all you could whimper out and he wasted no time, fucking into you harder and faster.

pants left his lips, trying so hard to make you feel good, make you feel better than anyone ever has..

“so fuckin’ tight. so fuck.. so perfect.” matt praised between breaths and grunts. he could tell you were getting close, your walls tightening around his length. you tried to tell him you were close, you really did, even though he already knew, but you couldn’t get any words out. your orgasm was intense, like nothing you’ve ever felt before. your body tensed up and your face consorted in pleasure. “theeere you go, fuck you’re so beautiful sweetheart.” you moaning out matt’s name was enough to tip him over the edge, quickly lifting you off of him.

you watched him pump himself, pretty little moans leaving his lips as he came on your thigh.

you both tried to catch your breath, eyes meeting and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“what?” matt asked with a smile on his face.

“you just made me cum.”

matt laughed, helping you clean up and put your clothes back on.

…

you guys were sat in the drivers seat and passenger seat again, still trying to process what happened. you weren’t uncomfortable at all, it was amazing. you loved every second of it, and so did matt.

“can i have your ex’s number?”

“what? why?” you asked confused. you guys have fooled around with your ex as a joke before, sending him snaps when he was still trying to get back with you after you’ve clearly moved on and he realized he made a mistake.

“just wanna send him a little somthin’.”

you shrugged, giving matt your ex boyfriend’s number.

what do we think about this one????? idk it’s kind along but also rushed. basically based off of a real story aswell LOL 😀

@sturniololuv08 @middlepartmatt @forgottxen @emely9274 @impossiblecollectorcat @staargazr

[kierongillen]

HEY GILLEN!! i have a few questions for you, if you don't mind answering them! what was in your mind for S.W.O.R.D's ending? abigail brand is one of my favorite characters and i just need to know what you had planned for her and beast -- and unit too, honestly.

also -- which pheonix host is your personal favorite? if you have an opinion on that!

It's hard, as the things which got us there never happened and so the emotional through line isn't there.

Excuse the roughness of this. There's a lot more, and I'm always aware whenever I describe a half idea, what's missing is the craft in executing it.

The final scene would have been Brand with UNIT back in his cell, while Beast has packed his bags and is leaving SWORD forever.

The context: UNIT had escaped, as another UNIT turned up, and been the big bad. The story seemed to reveal that our UNIT was actually a penitent war weapon who wanted to be punished, while this other UNIT was the real unrepentant monster. UNIT and SWORD have to stop him, and they do.

In the moment when the other UNIT is defeated and is killed, there's a mind to mind conversation between the UNITs - where basically the other UNIT reveals this is all about buying the original UNIT cover. They'll trust you now. This is all for the greater good. These two UNITs were old lovers (for those who have read the battleworld SHIELD mini may see what I was riffing on there - the idea of SHIELD was, in part, me doing fanfic versions of stories you never read. Me writing a happier ending for the two UNITs)

In short, for the greater good, UNIT forsakes his great love. Anyway - Brand and Beast had split up, because Brand was always putting the work first, and generally pushing Beast away. There was a whole lot along the way (the basic plot of the book was it was beauty and the beast - but Beast is the beauty and Brand is the beast.) She was closing him off, at every chance we got, as she had to protect the earth.

When this meeting is going on, Beast is leaving SWORD, out the station, back to Earth.

Brand and UNIT are doing a normal meeting, and everything is by the book.

At one point, UNIT just breaks off from the serious briefing and tells her: It's not worth it.

This throws her. She doesn't understand what he means. Your whole thing is about the greater good, UNIT. What do you mean?

To sacrifice love for duty? If you were an immortal being like I am... perhaps it's worth it. The dividends are larger. But your life is very short, Agent Brand. It's not worth it.

So it's a big moment for UNIT in terms of that awful bittersweetness of him clearly thinking he's made a mistake... and also for Brand. This robot, which she still distrusts to some level, who she views as a cold and calculating thing... is telling her this.

Unit is basically her. She is turning herself into a robot. She doesn't want to be a robot. She doesn't know it, but senses the truth - even the robot doesn't really want to be the robot.

It gets through to her.

She runs through the Sword Station.

We have the full "stopping Beast boarding the plane" scene, and we end on the big kiss.

Aww.

I think of that Beast and Brand a lot. There was a fork in the timeline for them, and I didn't realise when writing SWORD we were already past it - the Beast who became a genocidal monster was already appearing in another thread of Marvel's tapestry. I think that timeline as the one where Brand influenced Beast more than Beast influenced Brand - or maybe better phrased as the SWORD timeline was one where the relationship made them better, rather than making them both worse.

(I sort of allude to this briefly in Immortal X-men issue 1.)

They were great stories - Brand and Beast were two of Krakoa's greatest villains - but I'm still a little sad for them. Brand and Beast were the first couple in the MU who were briefly "mine", so I can't pine a little for that timeline where they kissed.