#but she just sees everyone as another player. so to speak. and will treat them as such

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (10)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Supermodel!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 8.7k

Aliyah's Notes: another long chapter!!!! had a bit of an issue with this chapter. didn't know where to go, and how to finish it but i'm pretty satisfied with the ending... hope y'all will feel that way too #scared

You were going to throw up.

It was 6 in the morning, and your apartment was filled with a pre-party energy—Aisha fluttering around checking final details, making sure everything was perfect for you. But for you, the weight of the day felt unbearable. The engagement party was only a few hours away, and you were supposed to feel excited, but instead, all you could feel was anxiety.

You stood in front of the full-length mirror, staring at your reflection as the fabric of your saree clung to your skin. It was a beautiful one—pale yellow with blue hues, simple, elegant. But as you looked at yourself, all you saw were flaws. Your stomach, the slight curve of your hips, your arms felt weird. Every inch of you felt exposed, like you were wearing your insecurities on display for the world to see. The saree that was supposed to make you feel confident now felt like a prison, the tightness around your chest suffocating you.

You tugged at the fabric, your fingers trembling as your heart raced in your chest. “I don’t know, Aish,” you said, your voice faltering. “I just… I don’t think I can do this.”

Aisha, who had been running around your place, stopped and turned to you with a frown, concern written all over her face. “Y/N, you look perfect. Rafe is going to love it, I swear. You look incredible, seriously.”

But her words didn’t reach you. They never did. They didn’t fix the sinking feeling in your stomach, the pit that had been growing since you woke up. You didn’t feel incredible. You felt like a mess. Like a lie. You felt like you didn’t belong in this world of glitz and glamour, not when the weight of your own past was pressing down on you.

You turned back to the mirror, avoiding her gaze, and exhaled shakily. “It’s not about Rafe,” you said, barely above a whisper, as if the words were too heavy to say aloud. “It’s… it’s everything. Everyone.”

She didn’t speak at first, but you could hear her footsteps approach slowly, her presence gentle and calm as she stood beside you. “What do you mean?”

“They’re not here,” you murmured, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “My family—they haven’t been here. They don’t care.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and so did the tears running down your face. You quickly wiped them away, trying to maintain some sort of control, but it was useless. The reality of it all hit you like a tidal wave.

Aisah’s expression softened, and she placed a hand on your shoulder. “Look, I know it’s tough, but you left for a reason. They treated you like an animal—you were nothing to them and look at you now. You have everything you want, you’re surrounded by people who love you, and you’re engaged to an amazing guy.”

“But you don’t get it,” your voice broke. “I haven’t spoken to them in years, Aisha. I haven’t heard from them since… you know… My Amma and Appa… they’ve never cared to fix what happened. And now they’re not here for this huge moment. They’re not here for me. And I just feel… I feel like none of this matters without them.”

You could feel the tightness in your chest grow, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest. Every time you thought about them—your parents, your siblings—it felt like the world was falling apart again. All the years of silence, the anger, the bitterness, the feeling of being abandoned… it was all still there, festering under the surface. You couldn’t help but wonder if you were always going to feel like the outsider, the one who wasn’t good enough for their love.

Aisha watched you quietly for a moment before speaking again, her voice softer. “Y/N, I know this isn’t easy. But this isn’t about your family. This is about you and the life you’re building. You’re so much more than your past, and tonight you get to shine. You’re not doing this for them. You’re doing it for you.”

You closed your eyes, letting her words sink in. You still feel the weight of it all, but as Aisha gave you one last reassuring look, you felt a small spark of resolve. Maybe you didn’t feel perfect. Maybe you never would. But tonight, you would step into this new chapter of your life, for you, and not for anyone else.

“You’re right,” you whispered, putting on a fake-ish smile. “Let me get over this. There’s too much to do today.”

The hours before the engagement party moved in a blur of preparations, but the nerves clung to you like an unwelcome guest. After Aisha helped you steady yourself, you dove into the checklist for the day, hoping to lose your anxieties in the bustle. Your hairdresser and makeup artist arrived promptly, transforming your apartment into a whirlwind of brushes, palettes, and fabric draping.

Despite the chaos, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone every few minutes, the screen lighting up teasingly with messages from Rafe. He’d been training all morning, but somehow still found the time to send you a steady stream of texts.

Rafe: Do you think this party will have snacks? Asking for a hungry basketball player.

You: There’s a buffet, Rafe. You’ll survive.

Rafe: Buffet doesn’t count. I want something good, like that thing you brought over the other day.

You: If you’re fishing for more biryani, the answer is no.

Rafe: Wow, first you take my penthouse, now you refuse me food? This marriage is starting off rocky.

You: This marriage hasn’t even started yet.

The exchange brought a smile to your lips despite yourself. He had this way of teasing that felt like a lifeline at the moment.

“Are you blushing?” Aisha teased from where she was meticulously laying out your jewelry.

“What? No,” you said, far too quickly. “Why would I even be blushing? You’re nuts… absolutely… absolutely nuts…”

“Oh my fucking God! You are!” she said with a grin, leaning in to glance at your phone. You pulled it away before she could peek at the screen, but the damage was done. “God, it’s so cute how he makes you smile like that.”

“You’re actually insane,” you mumbled, heat creeping up your neck.

She only laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “Denial is a river in Egypt, babe.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop your lips from twitching into a small grin. Rafe sent another message.

Rafe: So, what are you wearing?

You hesitated for a moment before replying.

You: Why? Thinking of copying my outfit?

Rafe: Maybe. But only if it’s good.

You: It’s a saree. Pale yellow with blue embroidery.

Rafe: Does it have one of those drapey things?

You: Yes, Cameron. That’s literally what makes it a saree!!!

Rafe: Got it. Drapey thing = saree. Send me a picture.

You didn’t respond, setting your phone down and pretending to focus on your makeup.

“Your husband?” Aisha asked, noticing your sudden quiet.

“Future husband,” you corrected with a finger up. “And obviously.”

“What’d he say?”

“He wants a picture.”

“Send him one. He’ll probably lose his mind. And let’s be real—you could use the ego boost.”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. Aisha wasn’t wrong. The way Rafe looked at you sometimes—or even texted you—had a way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the room. 

The hairdresser finished with your slicked half-up half-down hairstyle. Aisha brought over the jewelry: delicate gold bangles, matching earrings, and a necklace that felt heavy against your collarbones.

“Perfect,” Aisha said, stepping back to admire the finished look.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror. The saree hugged you gracefully, the embroidery catching the light with every movement. The makeup brought a glow to your skin, and the hair framed your face perfectly. For the first time all day, you felt... good. 

Before you could overthink it, you picked up your phone and snapped a quick selfie—just enough to show the saree and the soft smile playing on your lips.

You: Fine. Here.

The reply came almost instantly.

Rafe: ...You’re killing me here.

Your heart skipped a beat at the simplicity of the words.

Rafe: Thank you brown people for existing, and making you. Rafe: Truly humanity owes them. Rafe: Forget the engagement party. Let’s just elope.

You laughed out loud, shaking your head.

You: Not happening. See you tonight.

His response made your stomach flutter in the strangest way.

Rafe: Can’t wait to become your fiancé, sweetheart.

The car rolled to a stop in front of the venue, its soft hum fading into the gentle buzz of the world outside. Through the tinted windows, you could see flashes of light—camera shutters capturing every moment like hunters seeking prey. The glow spilling from the venue, golden and inviting, felt overwhelming, almost oppressive. It danced off the grand arches of the villa, the soft flicker of string lights crisscrossing the courtyard casting a magical glow on the scene.

For a moment, you sat frozen, your fingers clutching the delicate fabric of your saree. It was meant to represent happiness, a tie to your heritage that should have brought you pride. But tonight, it felt more like a shackle, reminding you of the pieces of yourself you’d lost along the way.

“You okay?” Aisha’s voice came softly from beside you, laced with the familiar tone of concern that only she could carry so effortlessly. She looked radiant in her pale pink dress.

“Yeah… I… I’m fine,” you replied, the lie clumsy on your tongue.

Aisha raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced but deciding to let it slide. The car door opened, and she stepped out first, her head held high as though she didn’t care about anything—and knowing Aisha, she probably really didn’t care. When she turned to offer you her hand, her expression softened—a silent gesture of reassurance. You took it hesitantly, forcing your legs to carry you out of the car.

The cool evening air brushed against your skin, but it wasn’t enough to soothe the heat in your chest. Cameras clicked relentlessly, their flashes a blinding assault as the whispers began to ripple through the crowd.

“She’s a bit late.”

“She looks beautiful.”

“Why didn’t Rafe escort her out?”

“What is she wearing?”

Each word clawed at you, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed image you wore like an armor. You kept your head down, focusing on the rhythmic click of your heels against the gravel path as you made your way toward the villa’s entrance. The towering structure loomed over you, its ivy-draped walls and ornate carvings reminiscent of a bygone era. The cascading floral arrangements, all in deep crimson and soft pink hues.

Everything added to the suffocating pressure weighing on your chest.

Inside, the air buzzed with laughter and conversation as guests began to fill the sprawling garden. Long tables stretched across the courtyard, their surfaces glimmering with candles and vases bursting with fresh blooms. Everything was picturesque, perfect. Yet, all you could feel was a rising sense of dread.

“I need a minute,” you whispered to Aisha, not waiting for her reply before walking rapidly inside the villa.

You navigated the winding hallways with purpose, your steps quick but unsteady. You needed to escape—to find a quiet corner where the world’s eyes couldn’t follow, where you could let the overwhelming storm inside you settle, even just for a moment. The getting-ready room—it was the perfect refuge, a place to breathe and gather yourself before you faced the crowd again.

But as you rounded the corner, your steps faltered.

Rafe was there.

He leaned against the doorframe with an ease that felt infuriatingly effortless, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his tailored white suit. The soft lighting played tricks with the lines of his face, his tousled hair looking as if it had been styled by the wind itself. The open collar of his shirt gave him an air of nonchalance that made him seem untouchable—except for the flicker of something warm in his eyes as he met your gaze.

“You planning to bolt already?” he teased, a crooked smile playing on his lips. His voice, low and smooth, carried the same blend of humor and arrogance that had always annoyed you.

You stopped, caught off guard. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

Rafe pushed off the doorframe, taking a slow step toward you. “Waiting for you,” he said, his gaze dragging deliberately over your saree. His smile deepened as his eyes met yours again. “You look beau—”

“Rafe, I can’t do this,” you blurted, your voice trembling as the words spilled out before you could stop them.

The smile faded from his face, replaced by an expression of concern. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” you said, your voice breaking. “The people, the cameras, the party—it’s all too much.”

Rafe’s brow furrowed as he stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. “You’ve done this a hundred times before,” he said softly. “What’s different now?”

You hesitated. “It’s not important,” you muttered, hoping he’d let it go. 

But Rafe wasn’t one to back down easily.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice steady but insistent. “Talk to me.”

You sighed, the lump in your throat growing heavier. “It’s stupid, okay? I’m just… I’m not used to this.”

“That’s not true.”

Your jaw tightened, and you looked away, your voice dropping to a whisper. “They’re not here.”

“Who?”

The question made you flinch, but you kept your response measured, your tone distant. “No one. It doesn’t matter.”

Rafe stepped closer, his presence grounding but not invasive. “It matters if it’s upsetting you.”

“It’s just… my family. We’re not close anymore, okay? And moments like this just remind me of that. But it’s fine. Whatever.”

His eyes softened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say more. The details of your fractured relationship with your parents, the abuse, the years of silence—it wasn’t something you wanted to unpack here, not with him. You hated being this exposed, hated feeling so small under the weight of it all.

Rafe’s expression shifted, the concern in his eyes deepening. Slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against your arm. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady but kind. “Look at me.”

“I can’t,” you shook your head, refusing. “You won’t understand.”

“Then help me,” he urged, his hand still resting lightly on your arm. “Talk to me.”

The lump in your throat grew, the words threatening to choke you. “I left them,” you started. “But I had a reason. I couldn’t continue living there. We were poor, so poor, Rafe. Some days we were barely fed and barely had a roof over our heads,” your voice trembled, and you forced yourself to not close your eyes to not relieve that part of your life. “They forced me to se—” but you stopped yourself. Not ready to admit it to Rafe. “—whatever. I just don’t feel like I belong anywhere.”

His jaw tightened, his grip on your arm firming slightly. For a moment, he said nothing, his blue eyes scanning your face as if trying to piece together the fractures you’d worked so hard to hide. Then, quietly, he spoke.

“You belong here,” he said firmly, his voice steady. “With me. Tonight, this party, all of it—it’s for us. And I don’t care who’s not here, because I’m here, okay? You worked hard to get where you are, and you can’t let your past, or anyone, ruin it for you.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the fog of your doubt. Slowly, he reached for your hand, his fingers curling around yours with a warmth that steadied you.

You walked back toward the door, Rafe’s hand lightly resting against your back, guiding you through the villa. As you stepped into the bustling courtyard, the noise of the party hit you again—the sound of laughter, the clinking of glasses, the faint hum of music. It was impossible to escape the energy, the pressure of eyes watching.

You took a deep breath, trying to center yourself. Tonight wasn’t going to be easy, but you’d already survived the worst of it. With Rafe by your side, you could handle whatever came next.

The first person you spotted was Nina, her smile bright and easy as she chatted with a few guests by the drink station. She caught sight of you and waved, excusing herself from the conversation. Her dress—an elegant gold one—flattered her frame as she approached.

“You two disappeared for a while,” Nina said with a teasing glint in her eyes, though there was a hint of concern there, too. “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah, don’t worry. Everything’s perfect,” you waved your hands to not worry her. “By the way, Rafe, this is Nina Ramos—my agent and my second mother.”

He extended his hand with a charming grin. “Nice to meet you,” he said smoothly. “YN’s been telling me a lot about you.”

Liar.

Nina took his hand, her sharp eyes flicking between the two of you. “Has she now? All good I hope,” and you nodded instantly. “Well, this party is important and beautiful. Maybe all your overthinking served you well—you look absolutely perfect, honey. You too, Rafe.”

“Thanks,” you blushed at her compliment.

Rafe smirked. “She does look perfect, doesn’t she?”

You gave him a playful look, your lips curling into a reluctant smile at his compliment. 

“I’ll leave you two to it,” she said, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “But it was great meeting you, Rafe Cameron.”

“Likewise,” he replied, and with one last smile, Nina disappeared back into the crowd.

As soon as she was out of earshot, you turned to Rafe with a small smile. “She’s a good friend of mine,” you said softly. “You’ll like her.”

Rafe gave you a raised eyebrow. “She seems cool. I can see why you’re friends.”

Before you could respond, the sound of laughter caught your attention, and you spotted Aisha, her arm linked with a tall, broad-shouldered man. Her husband, Ishan—someone you hadn’t seen in a while. You had to blink to fully register the change in him, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. 

Without thinking, you broke into a smile and made your way toward them, Rafe following behind.

As soon as Aisha spotted you, her face lit up with recognition. “Look who decided to surprise you,” she smiled, her voice higher because of how excited she was.

You immediately wrapped your arms around her husband, stepping into a hug. He chuckled, holding you tightly as he returned the embrace. “I’ve missed you,” you said, squeezing him as he laughed.

Ishan was like an older brother to you. He’d been there through some of the toughest times in your life, and his easy going nature always managed to bring you a sense of peace. His deep laugh and the familiarity of his embrace were exactly what you needed.

“I’ve missed you too, behen,” he said. “I come back to New York and I’m being told you’re getting married to Rafe Cameron. Imagine my surprise when Aisha told me.”

You pulled back from the embrace and laughed awkwardly. “Ah, yes, Rafe… Surprise, surprise, right?” 

Ishan furrowed his brows but you moved your hands. “I can’t really believe it… It’s really happening…”

“No, no! It’s not like—uh, well, okay, it is, but it’s like…” you turned your head to find Rafe behind Aisha making a cross with his hands. “I love it. He’s so, so, so funny and charming—and very committed, you know…”

“Uh huh, I see,” Ishan nodded and laughed at how weird you were being. “Can’t believe he’s gonna marry a loser like y—”

“So, you’re actually here. It’s been too long—how’s Switzerland?” you interrupted, and he sent you a look because he hated when you did that. “Sorry… but how is it? Did you climb every mountain and, like, yodel on top of a glacier?”

He chuckled a little and shook his head. “No, no yodelling, but I did eat tons of chocolate. I bought some for you too.” You did not even have time to reply to him that he extended a hand toward Rafe, his tone both warm and challenging. “So, you’re the infamous Rafe Cameron. My wife gave me a run-down on you. Some good things… and some questionable ones.”

"Your wife? Wait, who’s your wife?" Rafe asked, his confusion evident.

Oh, crap. You totally forgot to explain the whole family tree situation. Rookie mistake.

Aisha sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes as she raised her hand. "I’m the wife, genius. Seriously, YN—did you not tell him?"

"I’m sorry!" You blurted, cringing. "It completely slipped my mind. It’s just so normal to me that I didn’t even think to—"

Rafe interrupted you, and took Ishan’s hand in his. His smirk disarming but his handshake firm. “Well, I hope the good outweighed the questionable.”

“Debatable,” Ishan replied with a shrug. “But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt… at least until you give me a reason not to.”

You felt a knot in your stomach as you glanced between the two. Ishan wasn’t being hostile, but his protectiveness had always been intense, like that of an older brother who wasn’t afraid to test the waters.

Rafe, to his credit, didn’t back down. His smirk deepened slightly, and he shrugged with an air of playful confidence. “Fair enough. I’ll do my best not to disappoint.”

“I’d hope so,” Ishan said lightly, though the undertone was clear. His gaze softened as it flicked toward you, his voice gentler now. “You’ve got a good one here. Don’t mess it up.”

“Trust me, I know how lucky I am,” Rafe replied, glancing at you with an expression so sincere it caught you off guard.

The words made your chest tighten in a way you weren’t prepared for, a warmth spreading through you despite the nervous energy still bubbling beneath the surface.

Aisha rolled her eyes, slapping her husband’s chest. “Alright, alright, that’s enough intimidation for one night. Let’s get some drinks, baby.”

Ishan laughed, ruffling Aisha’s hair affectionately before turning to you. “If he gives you any trouble, you know where to find me, behen.”

You grinned at the familiar term of endearment, feeling a wave of gratitude for his presence. “Yup!”

With a wink, they both disappeared into the crowd, leaving you and Rafe standing together.

The second they were out of earshot, Rafe let out a dramatic sigh, running a hand through his hair. “So, is everyone in your life this protective, or is it just me getting the special treatment?”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “What can I say? People care about me. Better get used to it.”

“Noted,” Rafe said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “I’ll add it to the ever-growing list of things to keep in mind when dealing with your very... passionate circle of people.”

An awkward silence stretched between us as you scanned the guests arriving. You recognized a few—Aisha’s mom, aunts, and cousins, mingling with Nina’s friends and siblings. You couldn't help but wonder if your wedding would be filled with people who didn’t really know you either.

Rafe stepped closer, standing next to you, and flashed a playful grin. "So, Ishan… he’s your… older brother, right?" He asked, clearly trying to figure out the family dynamic.

You turned to him with a soft laugh, shaking my head. "No, not my brother," you said, before pausing for a moment, trying to find the right words. "Okay, let me explain." You drew in a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "Ishan’s more like the brother I never had—well, I do have brothers, but when I left home, I hadn’t really connected with them. But then I came to the U.S. and met Aisha, and Ishan just sort of stepped into that role. We’ve been through everything together—good, bad, you name it. He’s always had my back. No blood relation, but he might as well be."

Rafe’s expression softened as he absorbed that, nodding. “Sounds like he’s a pretty solid guy.”

“He really is,” you smiled, warmth creeping into your voice. “He and Aisha have always had my back, and they’ve been together for years now. They make a great team.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he said, grinning. “He’s got that same intimidating vibe as she does. You can practically feel it.”

You laughed, nodding in agreement. “Exactly! Aisha and I used to joke about it. She always said, if I needed someone to scare off a date, I’d just call Ishan. Aisha’s got that sharp edge, and Ishan? He’s got the muscles.”

“I can definitely see that…” he said with a thoughtful nod before asking, “So, what kind of dynamic do you think we have?”

You shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze for a moment as the question hung in the air. “Uh, well…” You cleared your throat. “I mean, we’re… we’re like, uh, a work in progress? Yeah, that sounds right. Like one of those ‘under construction’ signs, you know? A little chaotic…?” You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Chaotic? Really? You’re gonna call us chaotic?”

“Yeah, well, have you met you?” You shot back, crossing your arms. “You’re like a walking disaster zone.”

He laughed, leaning back. “Oh, I’m a disaster? You’re the one who keeps on throwing shade. For no reason at all.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to mind your own business,” you snapped, the words biting as you shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re the one getting all up in my space with your weird questions.”

“I’m not asking weird questions,” he shot back, his voice rising to match the sharpness of yours. “And do you seriously think we’re chaotic?”

You gave him a side-eye, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Chaotic is an understatement, Cameron. We’re a disaster—with a capital D.”

He laughed, the sound low and amused, as though he didn’t take you seriously. “Oh really? You’re one to talk. You practically live for the drama.”

“Me? I live for drama?” You scoffed, pivoting fully to face him now, hands planted firmly on your hips as you let your eyes travel up and down him in a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. “You’re the definition of drama. You can’t even breathe without making everything about you.”

His lips curled into a grin, the kind that made your stomach twist in a way you refused to acknowledge. “You’re so easy to rile up.”

“You’re a jackass,” you muttered, shaking your head, every fiber of your being wanting to push him away—but not sure if you meant physically or emotionally.

He leaned in slightly, as if to throw another jibe your way, but instead, his eyes gleamed with mischief. “I think you’re just mad because I’m better at this than you.”

Your eyes narrowed, and you closed the distance between you, but the move was more impulsive than you intended. You instantly regretted it, realizing just how close you were to him now, the heat from his body practically radiating against yours. You swallowed, trying to mask the effect it had on you. “Better at what? Being a complete asshole?” Your voice wavered with a sharpness that betrayed how much it bothered you. “Yeah, Rafe, you’re a pro at that.”

He leaned in even closer, and this time, his grin wasn’t just playful—it was dangerous. “You love it,” he murmured, voice dropping an octave, making your heart skip a beat.

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you rolled your eyes, trying to keep control of the situation. “Oh, fuck off. The only thing I like is when you finally shut up.” You crossed your arms tighter, trying to distance yourself emotionally, but it was hard to ignore the proximity between you two, the tension hanging thick in the air.

He was close now, too close, and it was suffocating in the most unsettling way. His breath was warm against your skin, the space between you closing so much that you could almost taste the words on his lips before they even came. 

“Is that so?” His voice was low, teasing, his grin widening as his gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there just long enough to make you feel it.

You couldn’t help it—you gulped, the way he was looking at you making your pulse race, something deep inside you stirring against the cold front you were trying so hard to put up. “Yeah, that so,” you managed, but your voice had a tremor to it now, and you hated yourself for it.

He smiled, the kind of smile that could make you want to punch him and kiss him all at once. “Well, in that case,” he said, the words dragging as he leaned even closer, his breath ghosting over your ear, “I’m just gonna keep talking.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried enough weight to send a shiver down your spine.

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to scream at him or kiss him.

You could feel his presence pressing in on you, the heat between you two almost unbearable, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. The world outside of him seemed to vanish, the hum of the city, the weight of your thoughts, everything melting away until there was only the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You knew you should pull away, should say something, anything, to break this tension, but the words wouldn’t come.

He watched you closely, his eyes locked onto yours, a hint of something unreadable flickering there—something playful, something dangerous, maybe both.

“You look like you’re about to say something,” he said, his voice thick with amusement.

You opened your mouth, trying to push past the lump in your throat, but it felt like the words were stuck. Instead, you just looked at him—really looked at him for the first time in what felt like forever. He was close, too close, but in that moment, it felt impossible to back away. He made you feel things you didn’t want to feel, things that you didn’t understand.

“I don’t wanna say anything,” you muttered, the words slipping out as a mix of frustration and something you refused to acknowledge.

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow, that devilish smirk curling on his lips.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, but you didn’t say a word. You simply nodded, lips pressed together in a thin line, trying to hold onto some semblance of control.

He closed the gap between you, leaning in with deliberate slowness. You could feel the heat of his body inching closer, the soft scent of his cologne filling your senses, until his lips barely brushed against your cheek. The kiss was featherlight, teasing—infuriatingly so. It was enough to make your stomach twist with desire, but you refused to let it show. You wanted to press your thighs together, to feel that familiar ache between your legs, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he was affecting you.

“Well, I have something to say,” his voice was low, rich with satisfaction as he lingered just inches from your skin. “I think… You’re not as immune to me as you like to pretend.”

The words sent a jolt through your chest, but you shook your head, pulling your hands up to his chest, your fingers pressing into the fabric of his shirt, then gliding slowly to his neck, tracing the line of his jaw before resting at the back of it. You felt his pulse under your fingertips, and your breath hitched.

“I don’t… I don’t pretend,” you said, your voice quieter, but the frustration bubbling underneath was unmistakable. “You’re just an idiot,” you continued, pressing your palms harder into his skin. “And so fucking frustrating.”

He let out a dark chuckle, the sound dripping with arrogance. “Look at you.” His hand reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. “You’re getting all worked up. You want this, don’t you? I can see it. You’re practically begging me to fuck you right now with those eyes. Is that what you want, baby?”

Every nerve in your body screamed yes. You could feel your pulse racing, your skin burning as his words settled deep inside you. The ache between your legs was undeniable now, but your mind fought back. Your heart was pounding in your ears, screaming no. You couldn't let yourself fall for this again. You remembered the last time—the cold distance after everything had gotten too real, the way he’d pulled away, leaving you shattered. You couldn’t be left like that again. 

But then, the look on his face—those sharp eyes, glimmering with something dangerous. He looked so good, so fucking good, in that white suit that fit him like a second skin. The way it molded to his chest, the tightness around his biceps, made your breath catch in your throat. You couldn’t help it. You wanted to touch him, feel the strength of his muscles under your fingers, wanted to bite at his neck, press your lips to the smooth skin there and feel him shudder beneath you.

God, it was maddening. You hated how he made you feel so out of control, how every inch of him seemed to draw you in. Your body was betraying you, and you hated it.

But what about him? Did he feel the same pull? Did he burn for you the way you did for him, or was this just another game for him to play, another conquest to add to his long list? The uncertainty gnawed at you.

Rafe’s eyes never left you as you fought to suppress the desire stirring within you. But he knew it. He could see it in the way your breath hitched, in the way you couldn’t stop your hands from brushing against him, testing the limits, even as you pretended to resist. 

But something shifted in him. He straightened, his posture changing, the smug grin slipping ever so slightly as his gaze flickered to the entrance of the party.

It wasn’t just any glance—it was sharp, instinctive. He’d caught sight of someone familiar, someone whose presence immediately shifted the air in the room.

You followed his line of sight, your chest tightening as you noticed who it was: The Cameron family. Sarah, Wheezie, Rose, and Ward. Their arrival had a different weight, one that Rafe clearly felt deep in his bones. You saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes darkened for just a moment, before he quickly masked it with a flash of that signature cocky smile.

Ward, tall and imposing in his crisp suit, moved with the sort of authority that always seemed to follow him. Rose, on his arm, was more subdued but equally elegant, her gaze sharp as she surveyed the crowd, clearly scanning for something or someone. Their eyes met Rafe’s across the room, and the tension in his body was palpable.

His hand, which had been resting lightly at your waist, now tightened, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress in a way that made you wonder if he even noticed. But you noticed him. You noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way he suddenly seemed aware of every movement, every gesture, every word spoken around him.

He cleared his throat, stepping back slightly from you, though his body remained rigid, still keeping you close. “I think my parents just walked in,” he said quietly, as though speaking more to himself than to you, but the edge in his voice was unmistakable.

You looked at him, the reality of the situation settling in. His family—his father, especially—was here, and suddenly everything felt different. The air seemed heavier. The playful banter between you both had shifted into something more guarded, more calculated.

“Yeah, I noticed,” you whispered.

Rafe took a slow breath, his eyes never leaving his parents as they moved further into the room, exchanging greetings with guests. He didn’t speak immediately, as if preparing himself for whatever role he was about to play in front of them. His jaw clenched again, but he quickly forced a smile back onto his face, turning to you.

“Let’s go say hello, yeah?” His voice was smoother now, though you could still sense the unease beneath the surface. It was almost like he was pulling back, retreating into the version of himself he showed them—controlled, perfect, everything his father demanded of him. “Is that okay with you?”

No.

You nodded, feeling the weight of his tension on your shoulders, but you followed him. The closer you got to his family, the more you could feel the pressure build. Rafe's movements were more deliberate now, like he was preparing to play his part in the family drama. You couldn’t help but notice how differently he held himself around them—like a man who knew he would never measure up, no matter how much he tried.

Rafe paused just before reaching them, throwing you a look that was both apologetic and protective. It was as if, for just a moment, he needed you to understand how much this moment mattered. But you weren’t sure if it was about impressing them or surviving the encounter with his family’s expectations. Whatever it was, you could feel it thick in the air, something unspoken but undeniable.

Rafe’s steps slowed as you reached his father, Ward. He was a towering figure, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, his presence seemingly taking over the entire space. Rose, his stepmother, stood slightly behind him, elegant and poised, her eyes a sharp contrast to Ward’s cool and calculating demeanor.

Rafe stopped just short of them, his hand still on your waist, but his stance had subtly shifted—he was guarded, unsure, like he was ready to retreat if the need arose.

“Dad,” Rafe greeted, his voice smooth but lacking its usual confidence. His posture was just a little too stiff, as if waiting for the inevitable judgment that would come with every interaction.

Ward's gaze lingered on Rafe for a beat longer than normal before he acknowledged him, his tone clipped. “Rafe,” he said, the smile on his face barely noticeable, more a polite curve of the lips than anything genuine. “You’re looking well.”

The words hung in the air, but they didn’t carry any warmth. It was a statement of fact rather than praise, and it made your skin prickle. You could feel Rafe tense beside you, his fingers tightening just a little, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he gave a small, practiced smile and nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”

You remained silent for a moment, unsure of where to fit in, but Sarah, ever the warm presence, was the first to step forward. She flashed you a grin, her eyes already lighting up with recognition. “Hey, YN!” she said enthusiastically, her voice a welcome contrast to the tension in the air. "So good to see you again!"

"Hi, Sarah," you responded, your smile easing a little, feeling comforted by her energy. "It’s good to see you too."

She pulled you into a friendly hug, and you found yourself relaxing into it. Sarah had this easygoing charm about her, a lightness that made you forget the weight of the room for a moment. She was everything Rafe wasn’t—effortlessly kind, bubbly, and generous with her affection.

“Wheezie and I were just talking about you,” Sarah added, and you turned to find a petite, younger girl standing a few feet away.

Wheezie’s face lit up when she caught your gaze. “Hi. I’m Wheezie. It’s cool to meet you.”

You smiled at her. “Hi, Wheezie. I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you too.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, clearly nervous. “You’re a model, right? That’s so cool. I’ve seen your pictures in Vogue!”

You blinked in surprise, warmth spreading in your chest. “You have?”

“Yeah!” Wheezie nodded enthusiastically. “You’re so pretty, and your outfits are amazing. How did you even start doing that?”

Her genuine curiosity was disarming, and for a moment, you forgot the tension hanging in the air. You leaned slightly closer, your smile becoming more natural. “It’s a long story, but I’ll tell you sometime if you want.”

Wheezie’s face lit up. “Really? That’d be awesome.”

Rafe, who had been watching the interaction silently, finally spoke up, his voice tinged with amusement. “Wheezie, you’re gonna scare her off.”

Wheezie flushed, but she grinned up at her brother. “I’m just being friendly.”

“She’s fine,” you said quickly, shooting Wheezie a reassuring smile. “It’s nice to meet someone who’s actually interested in what I do.”

Rose cleared her throat, interrupting the light moment. “Oh, we’re interested in you, dear,” she said, her tone honeyed but with an edge of condescension. “Rafe’s been so secretive about you, it’s about time we got to know you better.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you apologized with a polite smile. “I’m here now, though.”

“Yes, you are,” Ward interjected, his gaze narrowing slightly. “Rafe mentioned your career. It must be… demanding.”

You nodded carefully. “It can be, but I enjoy it. I’ve worked hard to get where I am.”

Ward tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “And maintaining that image must be just as hard. I imagine you have to watch every calorie to stay in shape for your work. Must be exhausting.”

The words hit you like a sharp slap, your chest tightening as old insecurities clawed their way to the surface. You forced a neutral smile, but your nails dug into the palm of your hand to keep steady. “It’s part of the job,” you replied carefully, your voice steady despite the storm brewing inside you.

Rose waved a dismissive hand, her eyes flitting over you in a way that felt equally invasive. “Don’t listen to him, honey. You look perfectly healthy to me. Honestly, I’d kill to have your body.”

Her words were meant as a compliment, but they were worse than his. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice quieter now.

Rafe stiffened beside you, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. “Alright, that’s enough,” he said, his tone firm, a warning laced beneath the words.

But Ward ignored him, his attention still on you. “We’re not saying anything wrong. She does look healthy… in a sickly way.” His smile was thin, and though the words were spoken lightly, there was an edge to them.

You forced another smile, but your composure was slipping. The weight of their attention, the veiled comments, the subtle dissection of your body—it was too much.

“I’m sorry,” you said abruptly, stepping back slightly. “Excuse me for a moment.”

The moment you stepped into the bathroom, the world outside seemed to dissolve. The faint hum of voices from the gathering became muffled as you locked the door and leaned against it, your chest heaving. You clutched your stomach, the ache inside more emotional than physical, as Ward’s and Rose’s comments echoed in your mind.

Your reflection in the mirror stared back, unkind and unforgiving. You pressed your trembling hands against the sink, breathing shallowly as the familiar sensation of panic crept up your throat.

No matter how far you thought you’d come, it was always there — lurking in the shadows, waiting for a moment of vulnerability. Your stomach churned violently, the pressure too much. You barely made it to the toilet before the wave overtook you.

Kneeling on the cold tile, you hated yourself for this relapse. Your body trembled as tears stung your eyes, the shame wrapping around you like a suffocating blanket. You knew better. Yet here you were, undone by a handful of careless words.

The door suddenly creaked open. Panic seized you as you tried to compose yourself, but it was too late.

“YN?” Rafe’s voice was low and tentative, laced with worry. He must’ve picked the lock.

You froze, your back to him, trying to will him away. “Go away, Rafe.”

He didn’t. Instead, he stepped inside, shutting the door softly behind him.

You heard the scuff of his shoes as he approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. “Please,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Just leave me alone.”

But then he was kneeling beside you, his presence warm and steady despite the storm raging inside you. His hand gently touched your back, and you flinched, but he didn’t pull away.

“I’m here,” he said simply, his tone quiet but firm. He reached out, gathering your hair and pulling it away from your face with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “You don’t have to say anything. Just let me help.”

The knot in your throat tightened, and a sob escaped before you could stop it. You covered your face with your hands, shaking your head. “I’m so pathetic,” you choked out, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I promised myself I’d never do this again. I’ve tried so hard to move on, to be better. But it’s always there. It’s always waiting for me to fail.”

He paused, his hand stilling for a moment before he spoke. “You’re not failing,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’re human. You’ve been through a lot, and you’re still standing. That’s not failing, YN. That’s surviving.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and you finally turned to look at him. His blue eyes were fixed on you, full of a mix of anger and concern���not at you, but for you. He reached up, brushing a tear from your cheek with a gentleness that nearly broke you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked carefully.

You hesitated, your walls instinctively rising. But something about the way he looked at you—without judgment, without pity—made you feel safe enough to let them down.

“It’s… it’s complicated,” you began, your voice shaky. “I’ve struggled with this for a long time. Since I was a teenager. Modeling didn’t cause it, but it made it worse. Everyone always has something to say about my body—it’s too thin, it’s too big, it’s never enough.” you swallowed hard, your throat burning. “And tonight… your dad, Rose… they just hit a nerve.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and you could see the anger flickering in his eyes. But he didn’t interrupt, letting you speak at your own pace.

“I thought I was past it,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “But it never really goes away. It just… quiets down. Until something like this happens.”

Rafe nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. “I get it,” he said, surprising you. “Not in the same way, but I get it. The pressure, the expectations. Feeling like no matter what you do, it’s never enough.”

You stared at him, the rawness in his voice catching you off guard.

“I’m sorry for that,” you whispered, fresh tears spilling over. “And for what you saw.”

“Don’t apologize,” Rafe said firmly, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently. “You don’t have to apologize. Not to me. Not to anyone.”

His words cracked something open inside you, and the sobs came harder now, wracking your body. Rafe didn’t hesitate. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you cried into his chest.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice steady and soothing. “I’ve got you. I promise.”

After what felt like an eternity, your tears began to subside. You pulled back slightly, embarrassed by the mess you’d made of his shirt. “Sorry,” you mumbled, wiping at your face.

Rafe chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t be. This shirt was ugly anyway.”

The small attempt at humor made you smile, even if it was faint. He stood, helping you to your feet, his hand steadying you as you wavered.

“You okay?” he asked, his gaze searching for yours.

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure. “I just… need a minute. Is that okay?”

Rafe hesitated, clearly reluctant to leave you alone. But after a moment, he nodded. “Alright… Take all the time you need. I’ll be right outside.”

As he stepped toward the door, you felt a pang of guilt. “Rafe?”

He turned back, his expression softening.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “For… this.”

His lips curved into a small smile. “Don’t mention it.”

“Are you serious right now?” Rafe’s voice was sharp, cutting through the murmur of conversation like a knife. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Rafe—” Ward started, but his son didn’t let him finish.

“No, you listen to me,” he snapped, his anger palpable. “If you ever talk to her like that, we’re done. I mean it.”

Your heart stopped, and you moved closer, careful to stay out of sight.

“Rafe, calm down,” Rose’s voice said, her tone exasperated.

“No,” Rafe snapped. “I’m not calming down. Do you have any idea what you just did? What your comments did to her?”

There was a beat of silence before Ward spoke, his tone dismissive. “It was just a harmless observation. She’s a grown woman. She can handle it.”

“Harmless?” Rafe’s voice rose, trembling with fury. “You don’t know the first thing about her, and you sure as hell don’t get to say shit like that to her ever again.”

“Rafe—”

“No,” he cut Ward off, his voice firm and unyielding. “You don’t get to do this. Not to her. If you can’t show her some respect for once in your life, then don’t bother talking to her at all.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

Your chest tightened, a swell of emotions rising as you listened to him defend you with such ferocity. For all his cocky bravado and sarcastic quips, Rafe had just shown you a side of himself you hadn’t expected.

A side that cared.

A side that would fight for you.

You stepped back, went back to the bathroom, giving him space to finish the conversation. But as you stood there, a small, genuine smile broke across your face.

When Rafe returned to the bathroom, his shoulders were tense, but his eyes softened when they landed on you. “Hey,” he said quietly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” you echoed, your voice trembling slightly.

“I’m sorry if I took too long,” he said, sitting beside you on the floor. “I had to take care of some—.”

“I heard you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You heard me?” his brows furrowed. “Heard what?”

“What you said. To them. Ward and Rose.”

“Oh…” his eyes widened. “I’m sorry if you think I stepped a line. It just really pissed me off what they said about you and thought that if you were going to see them again, they should know their li—”

“You don’t need to apologize, Cameron,” you interrupted, a quiet laugh slipping past your lips, the sound easing the tension in his shoulders. “Thank you, though…”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside the room fell away. “Of course.”

He stood and extended a hand to you, palm open and steady. You hesitated for the briefest moment, not because you didn’t want to take it but because the gesture felt like more than it was. When your hand slipped into his, his fingers closed around yours.

You stood, brushing invisible creases from your saree and adjusting the edges with nervous precision. Rafe’s eyes lingered on you, watching the delicate way your fingers moved, the subtle rise and fall of your shoulders as you steadied yourself.

When you glanced up at him, offering a soft, grateful smile, something in his chest tightened, and he knew he was done for.

“Okay, let’s do this,” you said, your voice stronger now.

He nodded, but as you turned toward the door, he couldn’t stop himself from saying it, even if you wouldn’t hear it. “You’re worth it,” he whispered, the words low and raw, like they’d been pulled straight from his heart.

He stood there, hand still tingling from where yours had been, a storm of emotions churning inside him. His mind raced, his heart pounded, and every inch of him felt consumed by something he wasn’t ready to name.

chapter eleven.

[unknownths]

Silver Wolf is everyone's friend (derogatory)

[woso-dreamzzz]

Treat You Better

Laia Codina x Reader

Summary: Laia thinks you're in a relationship with your best friend

"Don't do it," You warn Katie, nudging her with your foot.

"Huh?"

You jerk your chin over to Kyra. "Whatever you're going to do to her, don't."

"You're such a mum."

"One of us has to be."

You roll your eyes. You and Katie came from the same place, practically neighbours with each other. She and her sisters used to take you out to play with them when you were younger even though you were a few years Katie's junior.

Somewhere along the way, you ended up as the responsible one between the two of you.

"Er...What-What was she going to do?"

You're in the meeting room, waiting for Jonas to come in and start. Somehow, you've wedged yourself between Laia and Gio with Katie in front of you.

It's Laia that spoke and you have to steady your heart when you turn to look at her. There's something about Laia that always drew you in, continuing to circle her whenever you could. You called it a crush. Katie called it puppy love.

Either way, you're more than happy to reply to her.

"I don't know," You confess," But better to nip it in the bid early, huh? Who knows what Katie could do?"

You speak with such fondness that it throws Laia for a bit. She's only just joined Arsenal, still within her first two weeks and hasn't quite grasped the dynamics between everyone.

You're firmly entrenched in the thick of it. You float easily between players like Steph and Leah before turning to wiggle yourself into conversations with Jen and Lia.

But, one thing that Laia has picked up, is how close you and Katie are. She's not exactly sure what kind of relationship you have with your national teammate where you let her openly flirt with Caitlin in front of you.

It's strange and a little grating.

Laia knows deep down that she would definitely be a better girlfriend to you than Katie was. She knows that she would treat you way better than Katie ever would.

But, you just don't seem to understand that.

You stick your feet into the back of Katie's chair again when she makes another aborted move towards Kyra. Your shoes are off, tucked under your chair so you fold your legs under you when you retract your feet after Katie turns around to glare at you - something that you return with your tongue out.

You have a cute relationship with her, Laia surmises as her blood turns hot when Katie tilts her head to the side to lean against Caitlin's shoulder.

It's completely brazen to do in front of you, let alone in public.

Laia even sees you roll your eyes at the action and she can't stop herself from reaching out to hold your hand, just to offer a bit of support.

You jump at the sudden contact before meeting her eyes with a smile, readjusting your grip so you can lace your fingers together.

The action soothes Laia for a moment and she stares ahead of her with a silly smile on her face as Jonas finally begins the meeting.

But the happy mood she's in diminishes as she watches how Katie becomes more and more touchy with Caitlin the longer the meeting takes.

It starts off small, with little nudges and quiet inside jokes. It escalates to whispering in the ear, Katie's lips nudging the shell of Caitlin's ears in a clearly intimate action. Then it comes to Katie kissing Caitlin's neck when most people aren't watching.

But Laia sees it and she knows you see it too.

Her anger bubbles on your behalf and, when the meeting is over, she pulls you out by your joined hands.

You seem more than happy to go with her, willing to be pulled into a different, empty meeting room.

Laia releases your hand, pacing back and forth for a moment like she's trying to collect her thoughts.

"Laia?" You ask," Is something wrong?"

"I-You..." She shakes her head before trying again," Katie does not deserve you. If she cannot respect a relationship then she should not be in it."

"Laia, I don't understand."

Laia takes a step toward you, looking half-bold and half-scared-shitless. "Katie is going to cheat on you, with Caitlin, if she has not already. It is obvious and someone should tell you." Her hand reaches up as if she's going to touch your face before it's lowered again. "She does not deserve you and you do not deserve to be trapped in that relationship just because she's your national captain."

For a moment, you're still confused but then it all begins to make sense.

You laugh.

"I am not joking!"

"Laia." You step forward until you're chest to chest with her. "Katie...Katie is my captain, yes. We are close, yes. But...But I'm not dating her."

"You're not?"

"No." You shake your head. Boldly, you move to rest a hand on Laia's hip. "She's practically my sister. She used to knock on my door and ask if I was allowed out to play. Besides, I've got my eye on someone else."

"Oh..." There's silence for a moment before Laia finally seems to notice the way you're holding her. Her cheeks go a bit red. "Oh."

"Oh," You tease.

"Me?"

"You haven't noticed? Too busy staring at Katie?"

"I...Er..."

"Do you want to, maybe, go out with me for dinner? Or we could go somewhere? If you're not too angry at Katie then I'd love to take you to a place that she swears by."

"I'd like that."

[familiarscars]

Devil's Night | Bad Omens

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

One day I woke up and wanted to be chased to the sound of Milagre.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X Female!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. It's devil's night and you've been invited to play. If you don't get caught by them, you win..

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). Foul language, alcohol consumption, masked men, stalking, reverse harem, why choose, taking turns, explicit sex, fear games, submission.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

Devil’s Night.

The first time she heard those words, thought it was just another excuse for parties and excess, but here, in Detroit, it’s different. People speak of this night as if it were a tradition, passed down from generation to generation, almost like a silent pact that no one dares to question.

Yes, it’s Halloween Eve, but it carries a taste of danger that goes beyond costumes and carved pumpkins. It’s not about trick-or-treating; it’s more like… a rite of passage, where each person lets their dark side surface, testing their own limits and those of others. And the entire city, somehow, agrees to turn a blind eye to what happens in the shadows.

In the alleys and empty hallways, you can feel something waiting, hidden between the walls and beneath the fog that stubbornly refuses to lift. The seniors, of course, love it. They create challenges, make absurd promises to the freshmen, as if they’re initiating them into some ancient secret. But it’s not a secret; it’s more like a warning.

I don’t know exactly who started it—maybe some group many years ago, looking for a way to release their frustrations, or perhaps the city already came with this curse built in. But, either way, everyone participates, whether in the role of the observers or those who get lost in the night.

You were about to leave home, dressed up for another Devil’s Night in Detroit. Your friends had invited you over to drink a little before heading to the Lions' party, the fraternity responsible for the highest concentration of players that night. At first, you were ready to turn down the invitation, wanting to go straight to the celebration and get it over with once and for all, but seeing the flyer advertising the Geordin’s pub attraction made you change your mind.

Bad Omens was the main act in an intimate show, and you felt a bit excited to know they were back in town. It had been a while since you last saw them—if you weren’t mistaken, on the last Devil’s Night.

"Don’t tell me you’re not even a little excited to see him again…" Ash nudged your ribs with a playful voice, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"They’ve grown so much since the last time I saw them, Ash. They definitely have no idea who I am."

"And what if I told you that’s not exactly true?" Ashley’s glittering eyes blinked behind her long lashes as if she had some valuable information. She rested her hands and phone under her chin while watching you finish getting ready in the mirror. "I messaged Steve; we chat sometimes, and when he told me he’d be in town, I didn’t fail to mention your name…"

"I can’t believe you did that!"

"I scored us four VIPs tonight thanks to my shamelessness. No need to thank me, babe!" Ash winked and blew a kiss at her own shoulder, ignoring when you rolled your eyes at her boldness.

You didn’t want to admit it, but a strange sensation was building up in your stomach, making you feel cold with every step you took out the door. According to your friends, you looked good enough to draw a crowd to your feet, and deep down, you hoped they were right.

Geordin’s was, as always, sweltering, packed, and filled with people dressed up in Halloween costumes. You were just in a short black dress and heavy makeup—this date was special, a night for vixens to leave their homes in their smallest outfits, best heels, and bold eyes to be, for one night, what they longed to be all year.

At the bar, you grabbed a drink and walked with your friends to the VIP area near the stage. With each minute closer to the performance, your stomach grew colder, while your friends chatted excitedly beside you, never quieting for a moment. It had been a long time since you last saw him, and you tried your best not to expect him to remember any fragment of the past Devil’s Night.

“Welcome to the show of bad omens, my friends,” said the recorded voice from the speakers, making the crowd go wild.

The lights went out, and your body froze in place as the intro to the first song began. His voice was still unmistakable and unique, pleasing to the ear, even live, weaving together with the guitar and drum solos as if they were one.

When you turned to the stage, Noah was gripping the microphone with his eyes closed, and you allowed yourself to take in the melody, singing along with all your heart as you remembered why this was your favorite band. At the end of the third song, he glanced over the crowd as if looking for something, seeming about to give up, until his eyes finally landed on you.

A jolt of electricity surged from your legs, coursing through your entire body. Noah gave a brief smile and bowed his head, waiting for the next song’s intro. You knew the setlist, and this wasn’t one of the songs played at previous shows. In fact, you recognized it instantly; it was your favorite track.

Careful What You Wish For hadn’t been played in recent shows, but he knew how much that song meant to you, and he’d included it in Detroit just to show that he did, indeed, remember you. Something damp threatened to pool in your tear ducts; this song reminded you of moments you’d rather forget, moments the band had made more bearable to face.

As the final song ended, the lights went out, and the guys left the stage to the applause of the crowd. Your heart was still racing from the mix of emotions caused not only by the show, but by the series of subtle glances he had thrown your way during the pauses between songs. You bit your lip gently, gripping your glass a bit tighter, wondering if it could be a sign.

But you quickly brushed off that foolish thought and shook your head, dismissing it.

You and your friends finally arrived at the fraternity party, and all of you, including yourself, were buzzing with excitement to start the real celebration. Everyone was in costume, music was blasting, the smell of marijuana filled the air, and alcohol was flowing freely.

It seemed like the perfect night.

“I wouldn’t recommend drinking too much,” Ash warned, pointing at your glass as you sipped the colorful drink through a straw. “The games start in a few minutes, and you won’t want to be throwing up during the hunt.”

You laughed, remembering what happened last year when you mixed a few drinks with cheesy snacks, resulting in a puddle of vomit that took you home before you even considered playing the traditional hunt.

Every year on Devil’s Night, the Lions held a hunt in the Shadow Woods. The game involved all the guests being released into the forest, blindly searching to capture as many targets as they could until they reached the other side. With no flashlights or any source of light, identifying anyone became nearly impossible as everyone wore masks to hide their faces.

A certain chill lingered in your stomach, and a tremor in your legs threatened to shake your confidence, but you preferred to think it was because of the drink, not the fear of who your potential hunter might be. Your mind raced through quick strategies to avoid being caught, though not knowing the Shadow Woods at night made it all the more difficult.

With your feet firm on the earthy ground, you were as ready as the other competitors. You looked around, feeling adrenaline pulse through your veins, filling your brain like a song made to build tension until reaching its peak. You felt ready for whatever the night had to offer.

The whistle blew.

Your legs pushed you forward, running as fast as you could, straining your vision to dodge trees and jump over branches. You listened closely to the sound of dry leaves and twigs that snapped underfoot as the predators ran. All of them were desperate, hungry in their hunt for prey. At the same time, it felt frightening; it was exhilarating enough to make you push for more speed.

Energized, you glanced over your shoulder now and then, trying to detect any approaching threat, but as you pressed on, you heard fewer footsteps. Breathless, you slowed down and marked the trees with your fingers as you continued to walk carefully.

Your steps froze in place when you suddenly heard heavy breathing. The footsteps behind you moved over the dry leaves, signaling that your hunter was approaching stealthily, like a snake. Slowly, you realized your feet didn’t obey the commands in your head—they wanted to keep running, but your body remained there, unmoving.

He knew there was no point in running. He knew you were lost. He knew you didn’t want to go anywhere.

“Good girl.” His voice whispered close to your ear, making you jump in shock. “You didn’t let anyone else catch you. You waited for us like a good girl.”

“She knew that no matter where she hid tonight, we’d find her.”

“We always find you…”

Through your peripheral vision, you counted all four of them, gathered in balaclavas, closing off any way out. Swallowing dryly, you felt your breathing falter as they each took a step closer, forming a claustrophobic barrier around you.

“Now you’re ours.” Noah’s voice echoed in your ear as you felt the fabric of his balaclava graze your cheek. “Once you lose the game, you become our prize.”

A brief jolt made you sit upright when you felt something wrapping around your wrists; he was tying your hands together with a rope. The remaining length of material was used to fasten another knot around your neck, this time slightly tighter.

In your mind, there was no room for doubt, because you remembered the main rule of Devil’s Night. You were free to make your desires real for one night.

Why not surrender to them?

Slowly, Noah pulled you along the length of the leash, and stumbling a little in your own steps, you followed him. He exuded a scent of sweat mixed with Savage cologne; his arms were exposed by the black tank top, and he wore cargo pants and boots. Each determined step he took made you tense up, fearing what was to come, and the walls in the form of men surrounding you added to your apprehension.

Your steps halted when the tall man pulling your collar from the front froze in place. The forest offered little light, and thanks to the moonlight filtering through the gaps in the trees, you could see the intricate tattoo designs on his back, partly covered by his tank top.

A breath, subtle but present, brushed your ears with warm breath from behind.

"How about a game?" Folio’s voice was so soft it seemed to dance at a unique frequency. "We’ll ask a question, and for each wrong answer, you lose a piece of clothing."

"A game is only interesting to me if both parties are involved. In that case, what do I get if I’m right?" You dared to respond, challenging him with a side glance.

"Don’t act as if you don’t like the idea of not being in control for a few hours…" Folio taunted, stepping closer with a deadly step. His body was too close this time. "All you desire is for the reins to be in someone else's hands, just for one night, someone who knows your dirty mind well enough so you don’t have to spell out what you need. Am I wrong?"

You weren’t afraid of anything and made a point to shake your head in defiance.

"Wrong answer."

"Not at all!" you contested without much conviction. Deep down, defying him and contradicting yourself with feigned reluctance was part of your game.

The cold wind touched your back just as one of their fingers slid the zipper of your dress down, exposing your bare skin. Slowly, you felt the fabric glide down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps wherever it passed.

You shrank a little, feeling a hint of discomfort when you noticed several pairs of eyes observing your exposed form, but a tug on the leash immediately made you lift your chin.

"Don’t you dare lower your head, darling" another voice murmured as a finger traced along your chin, the wetness of a tongue brushing against the skin of your ear. "Not when you have a body like this. We can savor you without even touching. Consider yourself a goddess, displayed for adoration and worship."

Gently, he slid his hand from your chin to reach your cold-stiffened nipples, slow circular movements warming your thighs as Jolly’s voice stimulated you, his hands exploring your body without any rush.

They wanted you to surrender.

Indeed, you were already theirs.

For just one night, you belonged to them.

In front of you, Noah watched you with a tilted head, as if watching an intimate moment of pleasure was amusing to him. He wrapped the excess of the leash around his hands until it tightened, lifting your neck up toward him.

In one last visceral glance, Noah pressed his lips against yours.

A fierce kiss, charged with desire pent up since the last visit, filling every corner of your mouth, leaving you wanting for absolutely nothing. Between breaths, you let out a contained, low moan as those hands moved from your chest down to your hips.

His fingers, when they found your entrance, sent a current of electricity through the rest of your body. Jolly was warm and soft as a rose petal, he tortured you with the slowness of his synchronized movements on your clitoris and during the kiss you held Noah's lips between your teeth gasping a heavy moan.

Noah smiled, feeling how his body twitched in his friend's hands, he released his lips and dragged them down his face, allowing his moan to reverberate through his ears more clearly.

Just when you were about to give signs that you were going to collapse under Jolly's fingers they suddenly stopped. You panted and wanted to show that you were disappointed, but you didn't have time, Noah pulled you by the collar and turned you so that you were facing away from him. A quick scream escaped your lips at the surprise of the impact of your hips against his, you felt his bulge harden and let out some air through your nose.

A soft hand ran its thumb over her face, a caress similar to the one she felt on her ass as Noah explored her. At the same time they used their thumbs, Noah lifted your dress until you were completely exposed to prepare you, he dipped his fingers in your wetness and seemed to delight in it. Their eyes were fixed on the man before them, gently brushing strands of hair away from his face and lifting his chin.

“Good girl, good girl.” he whispered, sliding his thumb into your mouth, without breaking eye contact, you sucked his finger slowly until you reached the tip.

You watched as Folio grunted and finished sliding his cock into his free hand and bringing it closer to your face, passing it across your lips slowly. You moaned from containing the desire to take him in at once, and from having Noah playing with his head at your entrance in rotating movements. Little by little you relaxed and used your tongue to greet him and a smile formed on your lips when you saw him sigh once again.

Folio grabbed your hair with a little force and demonstrating that the provocation had made him lose his mind, he shoved his dick into your mouth at the same time as Noah entered you. Your screams were silenced by Folio's cock, you used your tongue to drool all over the compliment and without the help of your hands that were trapped you covered his head with the roof of your mouth. As you sucked him, you felt Noah bump his hips against yours in strong thrusts, pulling the collar from your neck each time he penetrated and stopped with his rigid member inside you.

Your legs shook from the force he used, you pressed him against the walls of your pussy and heard him mutter yet another curse due to the lack of space. Her head didn't stop for a single second, going down and up, sucking Folio's cock while he helped her with his hand in her hair.

With each of Noah's thrusts, you felt Folio's cock tear into your throat and you dedicated yourself to not leaving a single space without the contact of your tongue. He pressed your head down more and you enjoyed the taste of the skin trying to contain the entire volume. Noah grew harder and harder inside you and in an explosion of sensations for a few seconds your legs seemed to float.

This was the effect of the devil’s night.

It allowed you to fulfill even your darkest fantasy.

For one night.

[marshmallow-manju]

due to popular demand I'm putting the WanPre movie plot under the cut

anything that's missing? i forgor. super spoilers for the entire movie.

Starts out with a mysterious egg coming from a computer screen in a laboratory. The egg escapes, glitching, and gets into Animal Town, voicing jealousy over the people taking care of their pets.

The precure find it, try to reason with it because it isn’t a Garugaru. But because it has ears and a tail and can speak, ending sentences in tanu, Wonderful calls it a Tanutanu. It gets angry. Grows giant. Attacks. The girls immediately pull out the Niko-sama full attack. It seems to work, but there’s nothing left when the attack is over. They transform back and, from behind a fence post, the egg sees them and is in awe that Wonderful and Nyammy are actually a cat and a dog. Thinking the fight is over they all head to pretty holic to play a new game they just bought. Satoru and Daifuku are also there and they’re set up with snacks and treats while they explain the premise of the game.

Essentially, animal crossing looking characters, on an island of tanuki, run races and people from all over the world compete against eachother with their custom animal avatars. Iroha makes a Komugi looking character on her (not switch) and Mayu makes Yuki. Satoru is playing on his pc and makes Daifuku. They all ask the animals how they feel about the lookalikes, and they all approve, even Daifuku through Komugi’s translation. She notes that he sounds as cool today as ever. Cut to the other special two teams of the movie. Ageha makes a little birdie who looks like Tsubasa, to his embarrassment. Mirai makes Mofurun, who is delighted. Haa-chan also thinks it’s super cute, but Riko can’t understand why any of this is fun.

They play a little, and Komugi gets really into watching Iroha and actually jumps at the screen, causing Iroha to mess up and drop the Komugi mascot off a cliff to wander in darkness, which really upsets Komugi...until Iroha promises that they will be together forever and nothing will ever keep them apart.

They are about to start another game when the mysterious Tanutanu egg reappears. It “hatches” splitting into two human sized tanuki. They say they have no need for dogs or cats. Just the humans. And there’s a bit of them trying different ways to persuade Iroha and Mayu to come with them including transforming into cute tiny versions of themselves. They fall for it, and get sucked through a portal. Yuki and Komugi also jump through, Komugi barely making it. Satoru is distraught, since they disappeared before his eyes. And then looks under the table to find that Daifuku is also missing.

In the game, Komugi is alone. And realizing that she is a weird hybrid of herself. A dog that stands on two legs! The tanuki appear and explain the rules to her. If she ever wants to see her precious Iroha again, she’s gotta win the games. Which is impossible! Good luck! She’s gifted with a ring (the item that anyone under middle school age is gifted upon entry to the movie theater, this year’s light up cheering item) and starts the race! Running to the first arena! First up is a rhythm game. The first Wanderful ed song plays and Komugi does her best to hit the buttons by herself. But she’s told that it’s a two player game and so she’s probably going to lose. She does her best, bouncing from button to button with no misses, until it looks like she’s going to miss one on the far side. Yuki hits it, with style and flair. And they finish the song perfectly.

They team up for the next arena, the dancing tama-ire. (Note, this is something little kids do on sports day, so it’s definitely an appeal to the small children of the audience).

The game starts with dancing. Another Precure song. Then the red and white balls drop down and everyone gets to throwing them into the basket. Notably, the avatars for mofurun and Tsubasa are in the mix without much focus. It’s random animals, the red team, against a team of all tanuki, the white team. And there are special balls in the mix. One Tanuki grabs one and suddenly becomes extra tall to block red balls from going in the basket. Komugi and Yuki also find special balls and become their Precure forms! Along with all the benefits they have with speed and agility. The other cure teams playing the game are shocked to see cures in the game. What could that mean?? Also the mysterious game programmer whose computer the egg from the opening bounced out of gasps that she didn’t program these characters…. Back to game. White team is winning by a small margin. Then it’s dance time again. And ball release. Repeat. They win it at the last second because Nyammy picks up like 300 balls and throws them all in at once. Somehow.

The next game involves turning a crank to move an elevator platform up a wall. It’s all tanuki NPC teams vs Komugi and Yuki, back in their animal forms, and the two tanuki who hatched from the egg. They’re asking why they’re trying so hard to save their humans. What could possibly be their motivations. Both animals have flashbacks of when their human partners rescued them. And declare that they’re going to be together forever. No matter what. They pull ahead to the top and win!! They’ve won the games!!

They’re allowed into the room with no exits that Friendy and Lillian have been trapped in with the NPC tanuki trying to make them feel better by turning into Komugi and Yuki (badly), and offering them fancy juice drinks and fanning them with leaves. The girls are overjoyed to see their pets again, happy hugging reunion. And then the boss tanuki appears. He’s huge. He’s wrapped in a green scarf. Intimidating. He offers to let them all live here in his game world forever. Never getting older or changing. Just being there to love and cherish the many tanuki, and also Komugi and Yuki since they won the games and proved themselves.

Satoru has been trying this entire time to get in contact with the game creator with Meimei cheering him on. The game creator has been typing codes into her computer, until the big tanuki, Mujina, appears. She recognizes him immediately, but calls him something else… He seems like hers very nice, until they refuse. Asking to be let back home to their families. He chose them because they love animals. Things seem at an impasse when suddenly. A very manly voice comes from behind the doors to the goal room.

It’s Daifuku.

In game rabbit form.

But now we can hear him speak and everyone is shocked. He is indeed as cool a character as Komugi has been telling us all this time. Mujina agrees to let the girls play one more game. The winner can get any wish granted that they want. The game is a tournament style balloon pop. Where everyone has a ball on their heads and a bat to pop it with. Except? It’s the 4 cures and daifuku against a full army of Tanuki NPCs, and Mujina on a throne. It looks hopeless. The cure teams watching feel like it’s hopeless…but maybe they can help? The mahou girls cast a Cure-up rapapa to try to get in there to help and send—

Mofurun!! By himself!! The game starts and he very cutely casts a little cure up rapapa of his very own to pop all the balloons in one go. (I was really hoping for cure Mofurun, but….) Winning the whole game at once! Everyone cheers, and he disappears as his job is done. Daifuku pops the final ball on Mujina’s head. It’s over. Mujina is upset but allows the girls their wish. They’re transported to a blank space full of stars, where a weird Tanuki made of constellations offers to grant them their any one wish. Daifuku murmurs that he wishes he could have done more on his own powers and.

YOUR WISH IS GRANTED.

Flash of light, it cuts to everyone standing around staring at Daifuku. Hes shocked because he didn’t mean to take the wish, and says that he isn’t suited to being a human. We still haven’t seen him. But Nyammy opens her compact for him to see his reflection…. He is still a rabbit. Nothing happened. The wish was a fake and Mujina never intended to let them go.

Then, finally. The mysterious programmer and Satoru manage to get messages to them in the game! The game creator, Natsuki, has been working to program a portal out of there. But they only have a few minutes to make it work. And Mujina has figured out that he’s being betrayed from the outside. He’s powering up, growing bigger and bigger. The cures (friendy grabs Daifuku) run to make it up the unnecessarily complicated winding staircase that Natsuki made for their escape. Being stopped by the NPC Tanuki and using the kirarin fox to turn into matching Tanuki along the way to escape. They get to the final staircase, and Mujina is a giant swiping at them, clawing and grabbing the footholds and desperately trying to get them. The girls wonder why he’s so desperate. What’s the reason he wants to keep them here so badly? They get to the top and reveal the ticket to getting out of there. The tanu-key. (Terrible pun, it was great).

Mujina attacks again, and the key flys out of Wonderful’s hands. It lands in the air, cracking the border edge of the game world and sticking in the crack. Wonderful makes a dive for it. Crashing through the border and disappearing into uncoded territory. Natsuki is horrified. There’s minutes left to unlock the portal and she has no idea what is beyond the game world that she coded.

Komugi wakes up in total darkness in her game-dog form. She can see a light from the crack and starts walking toward it. An illusion of Mujina taunts her. Why is she trying so hard to get out. He’s offering her everything. The chance for nothing to ever change. For Iroha to never leave her side. But Komugi refuses. She wants change. A stairway appears. She starts climbing up it. Running. She trips. Mujina keeps taunting her. But she gets up again. Running and running. Declaring that change is wonderful and everyday brings something new and someday she and Iroha will be old ladies together!!!

She breaks out, Wonderful again! Key in hand! For the 5th time in the movie they beat the clock by one second!!!! Unlocking the portal with their Friend RIngs.

They make it home! But they’re not the only ones out of the portal. Mujina has also escaped and gone full youkai form. A sleek spectral tanuki made of black energy, still wearing the green scarf. He sniffs. And bolts off. He’s looking for something.

The girls chase after him, leaving a relieved Satoru on the porch of Pretty Holic. And also a boy with gray hair that looks suspiciously like rabbit ears. Satoru knows him immediately and tells Daifuku that he’s so happy he can finally talk to him. They chase after the cures together.

The action really starts from here. Somehow we end up at Minato Mirai (like almost all the Allstars movies do!!) Mujina is running rampage, destroying things on his run until he finally slams into the red brick warehouses. The hirogaru girls make their entrance and pull off some great attacks, and also combo with the wonderful girls. Mujina gets away again, and this time the mahou girls come in and do the same thing. Everyone poses and does a signature attack. It’s exactly what we’ve been waiting for with the crossover.

He gets away again. He’s a tanuki on a mission. Except. He’s distracted by a guy walking and petting his dog in a display of human to animal affection. Mujina is pissed.

Satoru and Daifuku show up exactly then, running to try and save the guy and doggie. Wing sees this and makes a dive to save all of them. Flash of light. Both our bunny boys are in cure (?) form and save the day. Daifuku comments that it’s pretty alright to be like this and Satoru agrees.

Once again the tanuki gets free and climbs a building. It’s clear he’s going to Natsuki and she knows it too. She’s on the roof of a building, waiting for him. Everyone chases after and he finally stops, growling, facing her. And she calls him something like “pon-chan” or another generic Tanuki name that I’m forgetting and goes into flashback mode. As a child she had no friends. But one day she met a little tanuki in the park near her school. She would stop and talk to and play with him every day, and it was the highlight of her days. She confided in him that even though she didn’t like school much she loved her programming class. One rainy day she gave him a green scarf and promised that she would be back tomorrow and the day after and the day after forever. Until one day the park was under construction and being dug up by big machines and she never saw him again. She instead threw herself into programming her first game character so she could remember her friend forever. One of the NPC looking Tanuki but with a green scarf. She went on to make her game, get a grant, and a contract with a company to make it a reality. But she never forgot her friend.

She was sad because they could never talk and she couldn’t say goodbye. She wondered if her friendship was one sided. But the wonderful girls assure her that even if her tanuki friend couldn’t speak real words to her. The warmth she felt when she was with him and the memories she cherished were proof that they were friends. The animal girls go on to say that before they were cures it was the same for them. Even if you can’t speak the feelings come through. Mujina sparkles and turns into the programmed character Natsuki made all those years ago. And shimmers into the sky. They come down off the roof and say goodbye. The animals turn back into animals and Tsubasa reveals he’s actually a bird. Meimei appears and tells Natsuki that she’s not to repeat this to anyone at all ever. They invite her to animal town someday to play.

The ending theme plays and has stills of everyone going on a picnic and having fun, Daifuku is back to being a regular rabbit, but Komugi and Yuki are in human forms mostly. But there’s a few stills of them as animals with Mofurun and Tsubasa and Elle all being small and cute together. Final scene, a bush rustles and a tanuki steps out. He looks just like Natsuki’s old friend. Everyone laughs as the camera pans to the sky.

The end.

[tharizdun-03]

Whole Cake Island revolves around the complexities of family, the juxtaposition of blood ties versus chosen family, and the struggle for personal freedom amidst oppressive family structures. As with everything One Piece — it's pretty damn great.

It’s not just about Sanji getting dragged back to his abusive family, but about how the concept of family itself is explored from different angles — whether it’s blood relations, chosen family, or the chains that tie people to their past.

He was raised in this nightmare where strength was the only thing that mattered, and anything outside of that — like compassion or kindness — was seen as weakness. And the arc goes out of its way to affirm that it is in his kindness that Sanji's true strength lies.

The idea of found family is a recurring theme in the series. For Sanji, the Straw Hats are his true family, and the bond he shares with them is way stronger than anything he has with the Vinsmokes. And the arc is very explicit about how even though Sanji may not want his abusers to be massacred, and even if they help him a bit by the end, that does not make them family.

We have this lovely moment at the end of the arc where his father spouts insults about how soft and essentially feminine-coded Sanji is, and Sanji says nothing back while Luffy innocently wonders what why Sanji's father is shouting Sanji's best qualities to him which just... it says everything.

Speaking of Sanji, his arc is very much intertwined with Pudding's. Who is set up as this sweet innocent bride-to-be, but we quickly learn she’s just as deceptive as the rest of Big Mom’s crew. She’s been playing everyone, including Sanji, but Sanji being Sanji, still manages to see the good in her. He helps her realize that she doesn’t have to be defined by her family’s expectations or her appearance (one of many thematic parallels in the arc).

Luffy gets great stuff throughout the arc too. His loyalty to his crew, especially his declaration that he won’t eat anything but Sanji’s cooking, hits hard because it’s not just about food — it’s about how much he values Sanji as a person. Luffy knows Sanji is suffering and that he doesn’t really want to leave, so he plants himself in the middle of danger and waits for him. It speaks volumes about the strength of their bond.

In contrast, Big Mom’s version of “family” is twisted. She treats her children like collections, using them for political marriages or to build her empire. Sure, she may talk a big game about wanting a perfect family, but she treats her kids like tools. To Big Mom, family only matters as long as it helps her achieve her goals (of course juxtaposed by how it is the complete opposite of how the Straw Hats do family).

Another major player in the arc is Katakuri, who starts off as this untouchable, perfect figure, but as his fight with Luffy progresses, we see that he’s hiding his true self. He’s built up this image of perfection for his family’s sake, but deep down, he’s just as vulnerable as anyone else. Luffy, being Luffy, drags that out of him, and by the end of their fight, Katakuri learns to embrace who he really is, flaws and all. I think it works pretty well thematically, even if it's a bit of a simple parallel and his reason for wanting to hide himself (people hurt his family in retaliation for how he looked, which is that he had a bit of a weird mouth doesn't do much when he's far from the weirdest looking character in the series, or even the weirdest looking character in his family lol). Nevertheless, it fits and he makes for a great foe to Luffy.

Big Mom herself is a walking contradiction. On the one hand, she wants to create this utopia where everyone — no matter their race or background — can live together in harmony. But on the other hand, she’s a tyrant who uses her children and subordinates to get what she wants. I'm interested where that will go in the future.

I have a couple of drawbacks with the arc, which really aren't fundamental in the sense of "this is bad", but more so as in why it separates this from just being a really great arc as opposed to an exceptional arc that goes beyond that.

I think the fundamental one is just that it's a bit too... simple? Don't get me wrong, there are some emotional and personal themes here. Some of the more personal themes in the series. But Sanji's abuse isn't much more complicated than a quick flashback to him being abused under a horrific but very simple ideology from his father. It's great that it's very family abolitionist and very explicit about cutting abusers out of your life.

But I just think the depiction isn't particularly noteworthy to me when I've read other stuff that handles abuse in more interesting ways. In the same manner that, sure, I like how Katakuri's arc worked thematically, but by itself it's a rather simple character thing and isn't particularly interesting on its own.

Most of the arc is just a long raid, which is great, but when the emotional core is rather simple. Then the plot and conflict is rather simple too it basically makes for an arc that works so strongly because of its execution. Still, there's nothing there to elevate it conceptually beyond "a simple but great arc".

I also feel like many of the all-time One Piece arcs are about structural oppression? Again, I like that we got a more personal arc about oppressive family structures. I just felt like we didn't have much to say about it besides "this is bad" with very straightforward abuse. When One Piece deals with the oppression of an entire nation, how it's intergenerational and intersectional, how it affects different people differently which gives us so many different characters with their emotional stories, how it changes the customs and culture of the nation, and the insane heights of emotional crescendo as the unimagine tyranny is finally eliminated and liberation is at high -- is what the series does best and when it has the most interesting things to say.

Overall, of course, Whole Cake Island is a great arc. At its core, it’s about finding your place in the world — whether it’s breaking free from the family that tries to control you or embracing the found family that accepts you for who you are. Sanji’s journey is one of self-acceptance and it's the best his character has been maybe ever. The Candyland horror aesthetic is some of the best in the series so far. Plus, that Luffy vs Katakuri fight kicked ass.

And while my tiny quibbles, from its more straightforward narrative to its lack of particularly strong pathos to elevate it further, it's still a great arc that I really can't complain about when it's already better than most arcs in any other shonen series. With so much good stuff going on, I'm nothing but happy.

[kafus]

okay i just talked to every NPC in veilstone because it's been a long time and man sinnoh's NPCs are peak, at least out of the 2D games i feel like they provide the most humor and the most random lore tidbits and stuff. i love this region. i'm going to talk about it

first off sinnoh is full of little things like this. random dialogue/flavor text that ties back to the mythos of the region. i love how widespread the sinnoh myths are

i'm also obsessed with when there's two NPCs that link together like this. you talk to one and you move on and then you talk to another and you're like oh! lmao. by the way the rage candy bars being here is cool because sinnoh is canonically connected to johto through the sinjoh ruins and the rage candy bars are from johto, which means they're imported and sold here. in general i'm obsessed with the locations in pokemon that have special treats associated with them, like the pewter crunchies of pewter city in kanto, or the lava cookies from lavaridge in hoenn. iconic

btw don't worry lady literally everyone sucks at making poffins. unless you have four players it's pretty much impossible to make poffins that are better than the storebought ones. good luck getting four people with rare berries who are good at the minigame to play with you, ESPECIALLY in 2023 jesus christ. the basement poffins are OPTIMAL

anyway in speaking of linking NPCs, these two - i wonder if the dialogue in the french version of this game is turned into english? they did that for lt. surge's french pikachu trade, the french versions of HGSS make the pikachu english instead lol. but anyway as usual it's very fascinating to me how much pokemon loves to drop foreign language in its titles, and fittingly i know a lot of people with english as their second language got interested in learning english from a young age due to wanting to play pokemon. how many kids do you think got interested in french because of dialogue like this. the girl even implies what the meaning of his words is

veilstone isn't short on game hints either, useless to me now as an adult longterm pokemon player who knows all this stuff already but still really cool to see. if sinnoh is your first time playing pokemon, those hints on trade evos and stuff are always appreciated.

of course, funny dialogue too that got a wheeze out of my nose, not uncommon for pokemon NPC dialogue SDKFSFDK some of this shit takes me so offguard it's like extra funny

like GIRL ISN'T THAT WHAT A PARASOL IS FOR????

edit: my DUMB ASS (lighthearted) has been reminded that parasols are for the sun and are NOT an umbrella equivalent. okay she makes more sense now LOOL

also LOOKER JUSTIFYING HIS GAMBLING :skull emoji: this shit is taking me out. see this is useful because it's like oh galactic is really all over this city huh. not only their massive building but they have their logo in the fucking slot machines, they probably have some amount of ownership over this place like team rocket did over the celadon game corner. but also it's funny because SDFSDFK

OH AND MAYLENE'S DAD IS JUST... HERE? generic NPC. generic sprite. no name. he's just here. maylene's dad. you know, one of the gym leaders. help girl

anyways i'm aware i basically just posted most of the dialogue in veilstone city verbatim but I JUST THINK IT'S INTERESTING! I MISS WHEN POKEMON GAMES WERE FULL OF DIALOGUE LIKE THIS AHHHH i have more to say about the galactic lore but i'm running out of image space and i need to use the bathroom and get some food so i'll post about that a little later

[caliburn-not-calculator]

I’m not really sure how unpopular of an opinion this is in the fandom since it’s honestly not discussed a lot, but since it’s mentioned rather often on the pod I’ll go ahead a say it. I don’t like Dani/Davion. It feels remarkably forced. 

Before I get any further, I really don’t want this to come off as shading any one who does like this ship. There’s nothing inherently wrong with it, and there are even a few circumstances where I can see the appeal. Everyone’s allowed to like whatever they want to like. Personally, it’s not my cup of tea, which I’m about to explain why, but if it’s yours, go nuts and have fun. That’s what fandom is for. 

Anyways, I don’t like Dani/ Davion as a couple. It feels very hetero/amatonnormative to me. Oh a guy and a girl are bickering, that must mean they like each other and are secretly pining inside. I’m quite bored of this. Obviously this is a popular troupe for a reason, and I can…*understand* the appeal. I’m just… tired of it. 

What I *can* say is I do like Dani & Davion. As like, frenemies would be the word I guess. They’re very funny. I like that they bring out sides of each other that we don’t really see otherwise. Bad sides, they’re catty bitches and it’s great. I think the dynamic of having two people who constantly, *genuinely!!!* what to rip out the other’s throat, but also, to one degree or another, trust each other is very compelling and entertaining. I genuinely liked the moment in 5.6 when Dani asked Davion to defend Brass because she couldn’t be there. As much as she rags on him, deep down she does actually trust him. 

What I don’t like is when this dynamic is turned fully, cleanly romantic. It feels like it just flattens it down a lot. Perhaps this really is just an issue I’m having because of my particular experience being aroacespec. I find a lot of character dynamics far less interesting when they get cleanly slotted into the “romantic” category instead of all the messy facets and feelings that can exist in nebulous platonic/queerplatonic spaces getting to be explored (This is true of any gender parting btw). 

Rolling with difficulty is a show I enjoy so much largely because of the vast variety of relationships in it. There are so many different relationship smoothies with different amounts of platonic or familial or alterous love blended in. Each of them have distinct tastes even if they have similar ingredients to another paring. None of the platonic bonds are treated as less valuable than the romantic ones, none are treated like they need to turn romantic in order to deepen or obtain true value. (Shoutout to aromantic Kyana and her bestie Ione, I loved their convo in 5.6 too.) 

None of them, I feel… except for Dani & Davion. 

I know really all the Davani teases have been out of character by the players, but I actually think that’s why it bothers me. It’s literally out of character. It’s forced. Organically, without outside forces like players’ out of character preferences (which of course have a place in ttrpg settings, I’m speaking solely from an in universe perspective/preference) I really don’t think either Dani or Davion would ever see the other as a romantic partner. It just doesn’t fit. I could see them growing very close, continuing with the dynamic they currently have— tearing into each other like wild dogs anytime they meet, but under the surface, the trust growing and maybe after a while even respect too. And that’s the dynamic I like. 

I think the TL;DR here is something adjacent to: I’m not a fan of romantic relationships being treated as a better version of platonic ones, and, although in general RWD is very good about not falling into that hole, I feel like to a certain degree Davani (as a romantic relationship) does.

So sorry for the essay, but I’ve kind of been stewing on this for a while and it feels kinda good to get it all out in words. (Reiterating no shade if you like this ship, this is just my personal opinion! :D)

Oh this is very fair, I have to say I agree with you. It was kinda funny but yeah it never felt compelling to me, more like a joke than anything.

You put this incredibly well so I’m not sure I can say much that builds upon other than, yes, I get that.

[ieiwi]

So here's the thing. All the companions in BG3 are overcoming some form of abuse, right? Like that's THEMATICALLY the whole connecting thread between the companions. Astarion has Cazador Wyll has Mizora (and arguably his father) Shadowheart has Shar Lae'zel has Vlaakith Karlach has Gortash (and Zariel) These characters are all unarguably abused and have to overcome the abuse put upon them, right? (Aside from that really really gross joke in the christmas thing that implied Wyll is into Mizora who has had him chained to her since he was SEVENTEEN, though I can't speak much to Mizora apologia since I don't see it often on my dash - still If I haven't and it does, that shit is wrong.) Why does Gale have to have so many people advocate that NO, actually HE was the bad guy in his story? Like from a writing standpoint, why would there be that anomaly? I genuinely don't know why the debate exists when

1) Mystra HAS memories of her previous incarnation and Midnight IS NOT MYSTRA, not entirely, she is in her current form (from what I can tell here) an amalgamation of her previous selves.

2) Mystra is KNOWN to have abused/lied to people in the past that were her 'lovers' such as Silverhand and Elminster himself, how much she 'remembers' is up for debate, but at the very least she seems to remember her relationship to Elminster.

and 3) The writing again and again codes her as being in the wrong for how she treats Gale.

I really truly do not understand the whole "Mystra is actually a really good guy who cares a lot about Gale" narrative. Is he perfect? ABSOLUTELY NOT. He made mistakes that continue to plague him a la the crown. Yet...he was still abused. He was at the VERY LEAST brought up to revere magic with the help of Elminster discovering his talent at eight and Gale certainly knew OF her (how much her spark of divinity that survived death knew of Gale personally is debatable but I wont get into that here) and moreover, she IS magic itself. She has a massive imbalance of power over Gale mentally and quite literally as a goddess! WRT the whole commentary by Minsc, I have serious doubts that it is factually true in Rashamen, though they do revere Mystra in another form, but I think the writing there was less about "hey lets have Minsc say something random" and more trying to evoke a VERY SPECIFIC IMAGE to the player with regard to mystra. What are we supposed to do with that? Not sure, but to say that people are completely off base when they think of grooming when it comes to Gale feels a little disingenuous when it comes to the writers putting that on the table; they put that there for a reason. So at the end of the day it seems to me just so impossible to read this as anything other than there being a clear narrative thread here regarding the origins and everyone seemingly trying to cut Gale out...and I truly don't get why?

[moonystoes]

if you stomp and step on people intentionally, then you are right, I do not like you. One day she is going to seriously hurt someone. Doesn’t matter if people just get up and shake it off. Again, if we on social media hadn’t blown this out of the shop, it would not have been a problem with MT posting that picture. Honestly, I don’t see either MT or LJ doing anything wrong in this situation. We are the problem. And another thing, you need to be able to call out people on their bad behaviour without the racist card being thrown every time. Why is it always ok for people to lash out at McCabe for how she plays, but as soon as LJ is involved in anything people are being racists? Yes, some people are assholes and can’t criticise players objectively, but when someone comes out with an objective meaning of a situation, you get the “you are just picking on her because of race” bla bla bla

Wow what a bunch bullshit you just said. I feel like I need to discuss every point you said because none of them are valid.

1) "One day she's going to seriously hurt someone":

But...did she? How do you know she'll seriously hurt someone if she never did. You're just assuming that based on nothing. She hadn't harmed anyone, so this is irrelevant 💀💀. So let's go harass her and claim her as a aggressive player that injures them when... that never happened? Okay!

2) "if we on social media hadn't blown this out of the shop, it would not have been a problem with MT posting that picture.":

We? Who's we? Cuz that seems like its you and the racists that are bashing LJ for something she didn't do because of a picture withOUT context. 'We' are standing AGAINST the people that are blown this situation. That are actively claiming LJ is some fucking terrorist or something for wanting a fucking BALL. And yes, without YOU racists existing that picture would've been okay. But racists exist, and dumb idiots like MT postes pictures of her OWN black teammate that is experiencing racism for breathing and liking comments of something that never happened is a problem.

3) "I don't see either MT or LJ doing anything wrong in this situation.":

Well start seeing then tf💀💀. I don't even know why MT thought it was a good idea. Turner is in the wrong, be serious.

4) "We are the problem.":

Nope. That's you, not me. Bot us that's standing against racism in sports... don't label me as your kind.

5) "why is it always okay to lash out at McCabe for how she plays":

...is the lashing out in the room with us?? 👀 Because last time I checked, Katie's foals are funny, quirky, crazy, hilarious, and silly. Edits of her fouls are on tiktok and people say shes iconic and funny. The only people that I have seen that spoke against Katie's aggression are Chelsea fans. And that's because they see the HYPOCRISY coming from white supremacists and racists that hate on LJ for being aggressive but support Katie.

6) "But as soon as LJ is involved in anything people are being racists?":

Exactly yes 😘😝, yayy finally you got it 👍.

The reason why this situation is based on racism is because the issue they claim literally never happened. What MT posted never happened, but LJ is getting harassed when she NEVER did it. What happened against Nigeria, did you see me defend it? No, in fact I was shocked and disgusted by it. But this situation? Absolutely RACISM 😝😝!! Because when Le Tissier literally pushed Mayra Ramírez and elbowed faces like she's some fucking rugby player, no one was speaking about it. Everyone is crying about a 'headlocking' that never happened, when poor Mayra was injured and treated like shit in the WSL as well as her not even knowing English.

Lastly, fuck off and never come here again. And if you do, remove the anon so I can block you.

[dragonflight203]

Mass Effect 3 replay, Leaving Earth:

-Is there a reason you can’t set your difficulty level during character creation like in ME1 and ME2?

That’s a trap for new players that want an insanity trophy.

At least I remembered to reset my character points before importing my ME2 save this time.

-ME3 has so. Much. Damn. Autodialogue.

ME2 had some, but ME3 takes it to the next level. This is ridiculous.

It’s very clear that Bioware envisioned ME3 as a cinematic shooter, and they weren’t about to let conventions set by past games stop them.

-There’s zero explanation why Anderson’s an admiral if you made him the human councilor. You have to dig into the Codex later to figure that out.

Another example of Bioware putting critical information in supplemental material and not explaining it in game.

So much for the importance of your choices.

-This scene is a tad amusing for how much exposition it throws at you, but it’s not the worse example out there. It still could have used another pass or two to make it more natural

-I’ve always disliked how the Defense Committee are treated as fools.

It’s a cliched writing convention to make the main character look better by making everyone around them – especially superiors – be idiots.

Imagine how much more impact this scene would have if the Defense Committee were serious, prepared, authoritative… And still completely overwhelmed by the Reapers.

That would make Shepard stepping up to lead even more powerful.

-Speaking of, Shepard’s dialogue in this scene does not impress me. We need to survive! We fight or we die! We need to stand together!

Yes, Shepard, I think they figured that out. They’re asking you HOW. Are you suggesting the Reapers can be defeated if everyone’s handed a pistol and shoots them? I think a bit more strategy and tactics will be required. And just how are you planning to get the other species on board to stand together?

-The Reaper’s attack would be more impactful if I had any attachment to this city that I’ve never seen before.

-I understand that the kid is supposed to be a symbol, but he’s a poorly done symbol. His dialogue does not feel natural.

It’s also odd that Anderson walks in, sees Shepard crouching by a vent with a hand offered out, and just tells her to move on instead of asking who she’s speaking to.

-The kid should have come with Shepard and Anderson. Maybe help out at some point so the player grew attached. Then the kid dies as Shepard boards the Normandy because of a mistake on the Alliance – perhaps a shuttle attempted to provide a distraction and failed.

That would have given the players a reason to care about the kid, made Shepard’s failure to protect him more scarring, and given Anderson stronger motivation to stay behind on Earth.

At least it would have explained why the kid haunts Shepard’s dreams throughout the game.

-Over all I have a hard time taking Leaving Earth too seriously. It feels more like a level out of a generic shooter than Mass Effect. The vibes I get are closer to War of the Worlds.

It also highlights the struggle ME3 will display throughout. On the one hand, Bioware clearly wanted to make a war game. They wanted to use the standard tropes of ground battles, air support, the sacrifices required to win, etc.

On the other, their hands were tied by ME1 and ME2 being about eldritch abominations more powerful than this cycle’s ability to fight off. Those two games are centered around the Reaper’s invading being an automatic loss scenario and this cycle needing to find a third solution.

The solution Bioware came up with was to have a deus ex machina discovered in the first couple of hours of ME3 and built in the background for the rest of the game so Shepard can be the protagonist of the war game they actually wanted to make.

So the game has this strange dynamic where most of it is standard warfare and alliance building, with scattered mentions of how the eldritch angle will be dealt with.

Taken on its own terms, that’s not necessarily bad. There are many good moments in ME3.

However, as someone whose a huge fan of eldritch fiction and clever solutions to forces beyond humanity’s ability to fight directly, it’s disappointing. I would have preferred playing a game more similar to ME1 where Shepard was an independent agent whose goal was to find and execute a third solution to eliminate the Reaper threat.

-The scene where Anderson chooses to stay behind is well done.

The scene where the kid is blown up does not work for me. It evokes more of a “Really? They’re being that blatant;y manipulative?” response.

-I continue to bang my head against a wall as I attempt to decipher how spectres work.

Anderson says Shepard is a Council Spectre as he and Shepard go to the Normandy.

Then on the Normandy, he throws Shepard’s military tags at them to reinstate them into the Alliance military.

Shepard later says Anderson ordered them to go to the Citadel. Spectres don’t take orders from anyone except the Council.

This can be taken as Shepard obeying Anderson out of respect for him. However, in game the implication is that since Shepard has been reinstated that Anderson is their superior.

-Also, where did Anderson get those dog tags? Liara gave Shepard their tags back in Lair of the Shadow Broker.

I’m just going to assume their a new set Anderson’s been carrying around to give Shepard at the first available excuse.

-James’s anger at Shepard is understandable. He’s in shock at Earth being attacked and sees Shepard abandoning it. He was not there when Anderson ordered Shepard away.

I also appreciate that Bioware has him push back against Shepard so early on in the game.

Since he’s a new squadmate, it would have been easy to make him just support Shepard blindly in hopes this will make players like him.

However, by pushing back he demonstrates he’s his own person. This also avoids the trap of assuming players will care about a character because he’s been designed to be likable. James is very much intended to not be liked here; this scene was included to show his growth later when he agrees Shepard was right to leave and seek allies.

Codex

-Harbringer is believed to be the largest and oldest Reaper. He’s leading the attack on Earth

When was that decided and why? What, are the officials left on Earth meeting with him for afternoon tea to discuss what order to process the cities in?

-The Codex entries about cultures are missing.

This just cements how this game feels more like a war game than a science fiction opera.

[alittlextrathatway]

In a world of boys, he's a gentleman

Let’s do a continuation of another AU.

We only have a lyric here which is absolutely fine because it means I get to pick the location.

And the location I choose is…

A diner.

Here’s some Sylvie’s POV for the football AU I started here.

***

She isn’t sure what to make of Matt Casey.

Having only been out of her borderline emotionally abusive relationship for six months, suspicion of all men is top of mind. She didn’t take the job in Chicago with the hopes of a new dating pool. She simply wanted to be free.

In Indianapolis, Harrison made sure everyone knew her as his ex and saw her as some creature he molded into being. To hear him tell it, her knowledge of sports medicine and her skill in accurately treating her patients the first time was all due to him generously sharing his knowledge with her over the course of six years of pillow talk.

They moved through their education together. Same schools, same programs. She’s just as accredited as Harrison. Everyone who directly works with her believes she knows her shit. Her patients rave about her in a way Harrison’s never speak of him. Yet outside their direct circle she became the personification of political correctness. Her successes and accomplishments were chalked up to a ‘women-in-sports-medicine’ diversity agenda.

As if some powers-that-be committee held a meeting once a week and decided these things.

Leaving her home state was the right decision professionally. She’s confident she made the correct choice.

But confidence in her personal life is a little harder to come by. So, yeah, she’s not sure what to make of the veteran star quarterback and team captain.

Especially when he turns out to be the nicest man on the whole damn planet.

Today is the start of that tour around Chicago he offered to her. He insists on shuttling them around and picking her up, refusing to let her meet him anywhere. And then he starts the day with his favorite little neighborhood diner, owned by one of the other players on the team’s family. She hasn’t met every player yet, but this woman knows Matt and hugs him fiercely the minute he walks in the door.

She shows them to a booth in the back and then pats Matt’s shoulder. “You keep throwing passes to my boy, you hear?”

“I’ll try my best, Mrs. Mills.”

She thought Matt was adorable at The Bodens’ backyard party last week, but turns out that was only the tip of the iceberg.

He blushes lightly at the attention and clears his throat. “That’s Pete Mills’s mom. One of our wide receivers.”

“Ah, okay,” Sylvie says, unable to resist pointing a warm smile at him. “Everyone at this franchise adores you. You know that, right?”

He shrugs, trying to brush it off. “When you’re winning it’s always like that. Wait till we lose a couple of games back to back, then we’ll see how much they love me.”

She shakes her head at him with a chuckle. “I’m not talking about you as a player, Matt. I’m talking about you as a person. Donna gave me the rundown of all the players so I’d know what sort of personalities to prepare for and she would not stop raving about you. Not your record or your stats as a quarterback, but you. The guy under the uniform.” There’s a beat before she realizes how that last line may have sounded and she winces. “Not literally under the uniform—I don’t mean they were talking about you being nak—you know what, I should look at the menu and shut up.”

He laughs softly. She feels his eyes following her movements as she looks away from him and down at the laminated menu in her hands. “No, I get what you mean. And I’m very fortunate. I’ve spent my entire career with one team full of good people who try to make the best decisions that benefit the group as a whole. It’s an actual family around here. We don’t just say that, we live it. So, if you get the sense that these people genuinely care about me then you’re right and the sentiment is completely mutual.”

He’s managed to stir up a lot of yearning emotions in her chest and soothe her humiliation all at the same time. It’s fascinating. “Sounds like a good organization to join.” What will it be like to work with people who don’t make you feel as if you need to be looking over your shoulder all the time? “I’m glad I took the leap then.”

“Me too,” Matt agrees, grinning crookedly at her. “So, I have a few neighborhood places I wanted to show you, but first things first today, is there anything you’ve wanted to see in Chicago that you haven’t gotten around to yet?”

She drops the menu and meets his gaze again. “Really?” Her tone is skeptical, she can’t help it. “You’re sure you wanna ask me that? I might give you a laundry list of cheesy tourist traps.”

“Bring it on.”

“Okay, you say that, but how do I know you’re not gonna keep a log of them to judge me by later?” She asks. She’s teasing him. Matt doesn’t seem like the type, but the joke rings a little too true in regards to her past experiences. Matt’s stare rips through her defenses, straight into her heart, and the joking good humor in her expression deflates. She clears her throat and uses her menu as a buffer again. “Sorry. That wasn’t very funny.”

“I’m gonna guess this ex who tried to torpedo your career didn’t let you enjoy a whole lot of things, huh?” Matt asks in a quiet, calming voice.

She sighs, suddenly tired of Harrison’s influence on her thoughts and actions despite leaving him behind in another state. “Let’s just say he wasn’t a lot of fun at parties.”

Matt snorts. “I can tell. I don’t know anything about him, but I can tell. To answer your question, no I’m not gonna keep a log of touristy things you enjoy so I can give you shit about them later. Only assholes do that. If you want to be a tourist today then I’m right there with you. Have you seen the bean yet?”

“You mean Cloud Gate?” She asks with a sharp smirk.

He rolls his eyes, grinning all the while. “Fuck that Cloud Gate bullshit. It’s the bean.”

Just like that her angst floats away and is replaced by laughter, authentically joyful laughter. “No, I haven’t seen it yet.”

“Alright,” he says, declaratively. “We’ll have breakfast and then we’ll go there first.”

“Great,” she says, rolling her lips to keep her besotted smile at bay. “Sounds like fun.”

They’re only a half hour into the day and already he’s gotten more out of her than anyone had since she made the move. That moment at the party where she got caught up in his attentive stare and spilled her guts about Harrison wasn’t a fluke, it seems. Her mind may have been unsure of him up until now, but her heart trusted him from the jump.

She knows she made the right move professionally, and she’s beginning to believe she’s making the right move personally too. In a world of insecure boys, she found a tried and true gentleman. She doesn’t know what the future holds for them or whether or not what they’re starting to build today will lead to anything, but she’s excited to find out.

[pixelsss]

THEORY TIME

Void-speaks sparked my inner theorist lmao

OKAY so anyways, just kinda wanted to dump all the theories I have about this game

FOR STARTERS-

1. Who is the player?

I'm not exactly sure about the theory that the player is younger Joseph, I don't personally agree, but i agree it might be possible. It doesn't make total sense to me, as why wouldn't Joseph recognize his younger self? And also the other way round, in a way, if the player is only about a decade, maybe less, younger, why wouldn't he realize just how much Joseph looked like him? It's also just a confusing concept, like how exactly did a younger version show up in the klinikum?

To be honest, it seems like maybe the player is someone who came from outside the klinikum. Joseph says he doesn't recognize him, and hes "never seen you on this station" . That, to me, says that you weren't a patient, because "station" is referring to working there. In hospitals, "station" refers to a place where nurses and doctors interact with visitors/patients, perform essential work, and can communicate and interact with other staff, according to Google. So I'd assume that maybe Joseph thought you worked there, then realized that he didn't recognize you and immediately became suspicious. After all, he didn't exactly treat you like a patient when he found you, I'd assume if he found a patient in an off limits back room, he wouldn't try to trick you and act like a civilized person, before revealing his true intentions, as he seems to have no problem with torturing patients and removing their livers, he knows they can't leave. He'd be much more suspicious of you if you were in good health and weren't dressed like them.

Then again, there is a problem with this theory, as the birthday patient seems to recognize you, which could mean you are a patient? Not sure, but I'm gonna stick to my theories heh heh

2. The ominous voice is Friedrich Erlenmeyer

First off, it makes total sense (at least to me). This is what I think happened. So after Joseph blackmailed him into retiring (another theory I will get to lol) then cheated his way into the job, he probably locked him somewhere far down under the klinikum, and he wasted away into only his voice and could only communicate through those pipes maybe? And maybe he was trying to get through to the other staff, but Joseph had all the pipes sealed off so that he couldn't talk to them or influence them. And it makes sense to me because there is a statue of each character in the game, andnyou see everyone EXCEPT for Erlenmeyer. The ominous voice (Erlenmeyer) said itself "There he is again, those cold marble eyes, staring into the darkness. A blind judge placed before six perpetrators. And you...you shall be his eyes" which makes sense, he's saying he himself can't do anything about what's happened, so you need to take his place and judge the "perpetrators". He also speaks about the staff as if he knew them prior, talking about Anne "she knew how to make us laugh" so I'm assuming he was a physical person at some point? Anyways, the theory isn't perfect but it's what I'm sticking to.

3. Joseph isn't really a doctor

Because of all the mistakes hes made in research papers, and the fact that he seems not to know much about what he's doing, it seems that his whole point of becoming chief doctor was the fame, the power, and the ability to torture the patients as he pleases. To prove the fame and power point, when he had the dental klinik built, his exact quote was something along the lines of "Marvel at it, my greatest work yet! The medical community will thank me in due time", proving just how self absorbed he is. Next, there was a paper that said there were many applicants, and the player found it strange that he managed to get in despite that. My theory is that he somehow played foul and cheated his way in. And based on his lack of medical knowledge, I'd assume he cheated his way into getting his credentials as well. Based on the information given in the game, Astrid was suspicious of him because of his lack in basic medical knowledge, and assuming she spoke to him about it, which led to her getting stuffed in an iron lung for her trouble.

I WILL DEFINITELY BE WRITING MORE OF THESE DONT WORRY

[bookswithsyd]

My First Cozy Fantasy | Legends and Lattes

Cozy Fantasy is not a genre that I have hear a whole lot about, and the main title that I kept seeing come up again and again was “Legends and Lattes.” I kept going back and forth on if I really wanted to check this title out, and when I found it available to check out on the Libby app, I pulled the trigger and tried it out.

Like most other books for me, this was a rough start. We get Viv finishing up her last mission as an adventurer before finding her new home. Most of the story involves Viv and friends creating the first café in the town, introduce coffee to the townspeople, and create new sweet treats.

On a surface level, this book is nice, its got its fun moments, it has highs and lows. But, I feel like it’s lacking some substance. Nothing that happened in the story came as a surprise, there was no suspense. We see Viv trying to start a new life, go down a new path, and build a life of ease in this new town after killing and questing for all her life. I wish we saw more of a struggle during the adjustment time for her, see some character development. We get to see only a glimpse at this when she questions on if she should solve her problems with violence (as suggested by her old adventuring crew), but she scrubs the idea quickly.

This is an issue I have with the other main cast as well. There is not a lot of depth to any of them. They each play a role, and that is it, none of them grow or develop. Tandri is the only main player that seems to have a real personality, she pushes for the shop to be better and she also wants what’s best for Viv. It can be explained by the stone brining people together, but Tandri dropping everything to give her life to a shop that sells a product she has never heard of seems insane. Cal shows up when he is needed and does help process the story by building up the shop, but he always has the answer one way or another. Thimble is a character that has personality by moving around and only speaking when absolutely necessary, I wish more could have been done with his character in some way, I feel like he could have been more important than just a baker that makes new treats.

I will say, there is a single person who has an incredible turn around, and that is Pendry! Pendry starts out so incredibly shy that he sprints out of the shop the first night he tries to serenade that crowd. He slowly develops into a confident performer who proudly plays and sings for the large crowd of customers. Plus, during the re-building stages, he admits that the family business is stone laying, but that his performing is simply a passion (as seen why he explains why he doesn’t feel right putting out a hat for coins). Pendry feels like a real character that finishes in a different state than he entered the book.

All of the big events that happen could be spotted from a mile away. The issues with the Madrigal was obviously going to find a compromise. I will admit that I love the compromise that they came to, I thought that was such a cute thing. But once threats started and Fennus came into the story, I just had this terrible feeling that the café was going to be set on fire… I didn’t expect it to be set on fire at night with Viv and Tandri INSIDE or it to be magical fire that can’t be put out and burned down the whole thing. I was sad to see all the hard work vanish in minutes, and seeing Viv so depressed (as she has every right to be) was really taking away from the nice happy feeling that I came to this book to feel!

I did enjoy reading the rebuilding section where everyone comes together to make the café even better than before, proving that the community is behind Viv and what she was brought to them all. The ending with the perfect grand re-opening was a beautiful scene to imagine. It did seem to tie everything up in a lovely bow with all the important characters getting a share of the café as a show of gratitude that they all built this place together.

The last three pages escalate the side-lined romance plotline more than the rest of the story combined. The inkling of progress happens with the adorable picnic that Tandri packs for them, plus Tandri insisting on staying in the café with Viv in case anything happens. It is clear that feelings are there, but it is barely touched on. Then, all of a sudden Viv invites Tandri to live with her in the café with her own room with a bunch of art supplies, like where did this level of infatuation and love come from? And then it just ENDS! Reading this on my kindle, it said I was 85% of the way done with this book so I was thinking, “where are we going to go from here?” Only for the story to just END.

Overall, this book had a great ending half, but the middle lacked a lot of substance for me, so I’ve given this book 3-stars. I would not recommend this book, but I do want to try out more books in the genre.

[jacuzziwaters]

For Aromantic Visibility Day I present to you the different story drafts that mini me came up with back in middle school and early highschool when I didn't know about Aromanticism.

Anyone is free to use them but please @ me I wanna see where these go.

Hanahaki AU where everyone is automatically born with buds but the buds change color depending on the type of love that you're feeling. Flowers consume you if you don't confess your feelings but you won't die if they aren't reciprocated. Our MC's flowers have yet to change from the pure white that everyone is born with. She has never felt romantic love. In an attempt to understand it, she runs a club at her school to help her peers with their love troubles. (Sidenote: I did a lot of research on flower names and meanings and I never saved it to the Google Doc. But each person has a different flower type that grows from their wrists. The flower type represents their personality.)

A mother sabotaged her daughters romantic relationships because all the men that she keeps dating are only after her for the kingdom. She tries to use her powers to teach her daughter the pains of love to try to encourage her to stay by her side. Later the daughter finds out and decides to just give up on love entirely much to her mother's relief. (Mother was hella toxic but yeah 👍🏽)

I actually wrote out this one for a creative writing class. A story set in an apocalyptic world where most of humanity has died from a genotoxin that was created as a biological weapon at the onset of World War 3. (I wrote this in October of 2019 I kid you not.) She has never interacted with anyone for 7 years after her parents left her in an underground bunker to help find a cure for the neurotoxin. (They die.) She only leaves to look for food and supplies. One day she meets a grown woman while out and after growing closer to this woman, much to the woman's chagrin, she finds out that the woman is the one who created the neurotoxin. This woman wanted to cleanse the world of impurities (yadda yadda villain speak). The woman kills herself and the MC finds out that there are more people that are a love and she sets off to find them. The end. (What does this have to do with aromanticism you ask? No romantic lead. There we go.)

I also wrote about a woman who kidnapped a child to raise as her own because she had no intention of ever getting married. She and her daughter are constantly on the run to evade the authorities.

I was really into Hamilton in 8th-9th grade. I wrote a flash fiction about a girl who fell in love with a boy who her sister liked. Heartbroken and all that jazz she becomes really good friends with her crushes friend who likes her sister. They cope with their unrequited love together and stay close friends. (Her sister and her ex crush break up in the end.)

A girl stays in an eternal prison because of love.

A girl who gets out of an abusive relationship decides to date the player in their school. Her friend warns her about how he'll treat her really well but break your heart in the end because he wants to show his love to as many women as possible. He never dated a girl for more than 3 months. They break up in the end but the girl cherishes the time that they have together.

Two immortals have found one another and decide to explore and discover the world. They find that they are actually from the future sent to prevent a calamity from happening in the past. (No romantic relationship in this one either.)

A story about two rogue assassins who aren't in love with one another but they are close partners who can rely and trust in each other like lovers so much so that people always assumed that they were in a relationship.

A group of female warriors set out on a quest. (That is only one of the many found family plotlines that I came up with.)

Lord some of these are horrific. A common theme I'm seeing in these Google Docs is if it's a love story it always ends in tragedy, most of my main characters are definitely neurodivergent, and the real plotline is the family that we found along the way.

Anyways

Happy Aromantic Visibility Day

[lilyandthegenshinbrainrot]

I think it's really cool how the different nations are all so loyal to their archons in different ways

Mondstadt is frequently mocked for their supposed weakness and negligent archon, and yet the people of Mondstadt are strong believers. I think the western fandom especially is so uncomfortable with the church and their faith bc it's so familiar for irl christianity, but in game there's no evidence for the things that many fics portray. I think the way that Mondstadt specifically treats Barbatos is almost like a role model of a god, where he's not their divine judge but he's the divine example. Their god who took down Decarabian for them, their god who fought out Durin, their god who returned when they needed him. Mondstadt believes in Barbatos very personable and honorably. He is something for them to live up to, and in this way, it's very easy to see him in a parental light. You could almost say the most dedicated believers are akin to children wearing their father's shoes, such as Barbara and the NPC Michelle, who cares for the windmills. I'll continue this thought process later

Liyue is so interesting bc their faith seems to be directly correlated to success and well-being, which isn't something that I'm directly familiar with, but it makes sense for both what I have heard of its irl counterpart and for the titles that Rex Lapis has. During the Liyue archon quests, we listen to these merchants who all speak of circumstances that allowed their business to flourish and how it brought them fulfillment. Just as Rex Lapis had wished for them, peace and prosperity. Unlike Mondstadt, Liyue does not believe their god to be "one of them," He is an Archon first, holy and celestial. A god of war and stone next, powerful and reliable second. Lastly, he is an adeptus, the Prime Adeptus, enlightened and divine. He is so far above their level of mortality, that to imagine him as a human is laughable. It comes across as something entirely unthinkable, and yet there is also Rex Lapis Undercover, a book series that is referenced frequently. This doesn't change anyone's perspective on Rex Lapis' holiness, but it simply goes to show him as a compassionate god.

Inazuma brings the first real complicated relationship with religion to the game, despite Keqing's best efforts. This nation is undoubtably loyal to the Raiden Shogun, and yet its the same shogun who led them to war and starvation. The relationship is complicated as a result, but not to everyone involved. As players, we placed emphasis on the Vision Hunt Decree, but what really hurt the general population of Inazuma was the closing of their borders. It negatively affected more families and the well-being of the country because it cut out the external resources Inazuma needed to live. How do you worship a god who brings harm like this? Well, Inazuma was around for many years and overcame many troubles, perhaps the average citizen simply hoped this would be another of their great accomplishments. We see the people here regard the Raiden Shogun as a "perfect, just king" so to speak. Now I use the word "perfect" in a philosophical way to emphasis that ultimately, the general population did not really think the Shogun herself was doing anything wrong. She was doing the ultimately best thing she could possibly do for the country, thereby being a perfect ruler (as see by the shogunate warriors in present time but also in Ei's second story quest). Most NPCs blamed the troubles they faced on the Tri-Commission or the Resistance in Watatsumi, not Raiden Ei.

Sumeru continues this theme of complicated relationships with religion, almost reminiscent of Watatsumi. They celebrated dead gods, Rukkhadevata and King Deshret. They were the foundation of the Sumeru's culture and belief system, to the point where many simply believed in gods loosely enough for them to be more of a symbol of their modern life instead of something genuinely divine. I think this is curious because this is not the take I would expect from Sumeru. I mean, the people of Mond are reassured by the wind in their city, people of Liyue are reassured by the mora and success they make, people of Inazuma recognize the Shogun in the storms around them never striking home. Sumeru is surrounded by gorgeous landscapes and unlimited knowledge, and yet if not for Rukkhadevata or Deshret, they would be a rather agnostic nation. Until, of course, Kusanali and her archon quest. I don't really. know how to describe the current Sumeru faith base rn bc of the changes made to Irminsul and unstable environment of the nation.