#need more people to give this show a shot

[obaewankenope]

They are, in some ways, scared of being a bother to authors, aye. But there's also an aspect of some who read fic, might hit kudos, and then move on because they're just used to a reaction notification being enough (see most social media nowadays that lets you just heart or thumbs up shit and then keep on scrolling).

Some don't know they can comment at all.

Some don't care that they can comment because they expect the kudos button to be enough.

Some don't know what to say and fear bothering the author because they've seen how people commenting on things on Instagram etc can get dogpiled on and are scared of that happening to them.

Some just don't have the time to leave a comment because they're bing-reading and forget the fics they've read.

Some think a 'shout out' on other social media is preferred when, honestly, authors want to have engagement with their readers (we eat up comments even as simple as "<3 <3 <3" seriously, we genuinely do) but they're used to platforms like tiktok and Instagram where a 'shout out' is more valuable because it means hits and financial payoff. They don't realise we don't get paid on AO3 to write fic so a shout out isn't as useful to us as an actual comment or bookmarking of our fic with screeching in the bookmark notes.

Like, there's lots of varying reasons why commenting on fic isn't as prevalent anymore (many of which tend to stem from "reaction to a post being equated with the kudos button and thus 'enough'" because that's usually fine on other platforms) but anxiety and being scared/worried/concerned with causing offense or upset to the author (or anyone who reads the comments) is a big one too.

With how overwhelmingly powerful cancel-culture is and how people are told about or hear of times when authors have ripped on people leaving 'reviews' when they've been unasked for, a fair number of individuals likely worry about leaving a comment that, in some way, could be construed as criticism or unasked for critique and getting cancelled for it as a result.

The best way to avoid that, however, isn't to not comment, it's to have a bare-bones structure for leaving comments, mainly:

I loved/liked/enjoyed this fic/chapter/one-shot! My favourite bit is/was probably [insert short summary or specific bit of fic like a sentence or paragraph] because it made me feel/think about/remember sth specific to the fandom!

Amazing/good fic! 10/10 would recommend! Extra kudos!

That's, ultimately, the easiest way to leave a comment on a fic or chapter because it gives the author sth to look at, go "oh they liked that bit! Nice! I enjoyed writing that part as well!" and lets them know you read the fic even if its not a 5 page long, size 12 font in Times New Roman essay review. It also avoids any of the risks of unintentional critique or critical reviews that authors tend to not ask for (unless we state such in our author notes) that often tend to be upsetting for the author to read because no one wants to be criticised (even if it is being done in a helpful way) unexpectedly when they haven't asked for it.

And if that kind of comment is too much, or you're too anxious for it, even the simpler:

Loved it! Extra kudos! <3

Works well enough for us authors to know you liked what we wrote enough to tell us that and shows us that it's only because you can't leave more than one kudos per fic that's stopping you from spamming us with kudos.

Just, if you can, comment. We don't need fancy, we just need to know you care.

"Ao3 should allow multiple kudos" "I want to be able to leave more than one kudos"

COMMENT ON THE FUCKING FIC

I SWEAR TO GOD NO ONE COMMENTS MUCH NOW WHEN THE ONLY WAY TO SHOW APPRECIATION FOR A SINGLE CHAPTER IS COMMENTING AND I AM NOT HAVING THIS BULLSHIT BE LIKE TIKTOK WHERE NO ONE EVER COMMENTS POSITIVITY

FOR FUCKS SAKE JUST COMMENT ON THE FUCKING FIC YOU DON'T NEED A MULTIPLE KUDOS BUTTON YOU NEED ACTUAL WORDS

TRUST ME ON ANY WEBSITE OR APP I POST COMMENTS AND WORDS ARE 10X BETTER THAN ANY PLAIN LIKE AND WORDLESS REBLOG IF YOU LIKE SOMETHING LEAVE WORDS

COMMENT

ON

THE

FUCKING

FICS

[kiszjuli]

PERFECT EXCUSE .ᐟ

✸ playful!chenle x fem!reader | genre. fluff | w.c 2.2k | ♡

↳synopsis. you never cared much for valentine’s day. it’s not that you needed to, because school was more important. however, when you get roped into a (stupid) day at the valentine’s day fair, with the annoyingly charming zhong chenle, maybe your perspective will change.

↳playlist. good days - sza. the perfect pair - beabadoobee. bad - wavetoearth. rainbow - nct dream. sunflower - swae lee. love countdown - nayeon.

valentine’s day at college was a disaster waiting to happen. at least, that’s how you’d always viewed it. all the heart-shaped decorations, the excessive amounts of candy, the couples holding hands like they were somehow more in love because of the date on the calendar. it was just a lot of noise—unnecessary noise at that. your life was perfectly organized, your time always scheduled, and you certainly didn’t need some manufactured holiday reminding you that romance existed.

but, of course, your best friend mia had other plans.

“please, just come with me,” mia begged, standing in your dorm doorway, her eyes wide and pleading. “you know i can’t go alone, and honestly, i need you to go so i can be with felix. i’ll owe you, i swear. just this once. for me?”

you rolled your eyes. felix was mia’s crush—one of your other friends who had a thing for always being the center of attention. you couldn’t really say no, knowing how much it meant to her, especially since she’d been talking about him nonstop for weeks. if she wasn’t your best friend, you would’ve said no.

“fine,” you muttered, sighing, setting your textbooks down. “but i’m only coming because you’re clearly desperate, and i’m not staying long.”

mia’s face lit up as if you’d just given her the world. “you’re the best! i’ll make it worth your while, i promise.” she ran to you, attacking you in a hug.

—

so here you were, standing outside the valentine’s day fair on campus, which, unsurprisingly, looked like cupid threw up. balloons floated lazily above booths, and the scent of cotton candy and fried food was everywhere. people roamed around in pairs, couples wrapped in the gooey sweetness of the holiday, while you tried your best to keep the grimace off your face.

“i’m going to go find felix,” mia said, her voice practically vibrating with excitement. “you’re fine here. i’ll text you in a bit.” she dashed off before you could even say anything in protest. your words dying on your tongue as you sighed deeply.

great, you thought. now you were stuck in the middle of this chaos, alone and—if you were being honest—irritated. you wandered toward the game booths, wondering how long you could fake having fun, a familiar voice called out from behind you.

“hey, you’re not trying to sneak off and study, are you?”

you turned to find zhong chenle leaning against one of the booths, casually sipping from a drink, his bright smile practically glowing in the chaos around you. chenle was the kind of guy who could brighten up a room with barely any effort. always cheerful, always a little too playful, he had a way of dragging you into whatever ridiculous situation he was in—whether you liked it or not.

“chenle,” you said with a sigh, trying not to let your annoyance show. “what are you doing here?”

“i could ask you the same thing.” he grinned. “are you here for the lovey dovey atmosphere, or for the free candy?”

you crossed your arms. “neither. i’m here because mia begged me to come. and now i’m completely regretting it.”

he laughed at that, his voice like music, light and easy. “you know, it’s not so bad once you give in. the fair’s actually kinda fun, once you stop being all… ‘up tight’ about everything.”

you shot him a glare. “i’m not ‘up tight.’ i just have better things to do than waste my time at some cheesy fair.”

chenle raised an eyebrow and stepped closer. “you say that now. you’re already stuck here so…might as well make it worth your while.”

you didn’t know why, but his playful tone made you feel slightly… off balance. you’d never been good at letting go of your well-structured plans, but something about his easy confidence made you want to step outside your comfort zone. you shook the thought away.

“yeah, well, mia’s gone, and i’m stuck walking around by myself, in a place where i don’t really wanna be. not really my idea of fun.”

“stuck?” chenle tilted his head, as if considering your words. “you don’t have to be stuck.” his grin widened. “here, how about this? us. you. me. valentine’s day fair.”

you blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “what?”

“no, seriously,” he said, his voice dropping to a playful, almost firm tone. “i’m asking you out. right here, right now. us, enjoying the fair.” his grin was wide, but there was an edge of sincerity to his words that caught you off guard.

you almost laughed, half in disbelief. “you’re asking me out—here? now?”

chenle shrugged, unfazed. “why not? where better to then here? what else is valentine’s day about if not taking chances?”

you stared at him for a long moment, your mind racing. it wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed chenle’s charm or the way he made everything seem easier than it was. but asking you out here? it was so out there, so unlike the controlled life you were used to.

“i don’t know…” you said slowly, shaking your head. “i have a lot of work to do, and—”

“hey, hey.” chenle cut you off, his voice almost pleading, but still playful. “come on. just one day, no homework, no plans. just us and some fun what do you say?”

you felt yourself still hesitating. for all your plans and your need to be in control, something about the way he said it made you think that maybe, just maybe, you could let go for once.

“i see it, you’re giving in,” he smirks pointing at you.

“fine,” you said, a little too quickly, surprising yourself. “one hour. and i’m nothing cheesy,”

chenle’s grin was so wide, you swore he was glowing. “deal.”

and just like that, you found yourself swept up into whatever mess chenle had in mind for the day.

—

“you won’t regret this,” chenle says, grinning as he tugs you forward, weaving through the crowd. his grip on your wrist is light, like he knows you could change your mind at any second. and honestly, you might.

it was way too loud for your liking. screams and yells ring through the air, couples walking past hand in hand, some holding oversized stuffed animals, others sharing pink cotton candy like something straight out of a cliché rom-com. exactly the kind of thing you didn’t sign up for.

“i already regret it,” you mutter, adjusting your bag strap.

chenle hums like he doesn’t hear you—or, more likely, like he’s choosing not to.

then he stops, turning to face you with a dramatic flourish. “so, where should we start our date?”

you groan, smacking his arm. “this is not a date.”

chenle only laughs. “alright, alright. how about something simple? games?” he gestures toward the ones with flashing lights and prizes hanging from the ceilings—rows of giant plushies, novelty heart pillows, and even a ridiculously large teddy bear.

you eye the setup warily. “you mean the games that are totally rigged?”

“that’s loser talk.” he slings an arm over your shoulders before you can protest, steering you toward the booths. his warmth is distracting, and you hate how easy it is for him to act like this—like this whole thing is normal.

he stops in front of a classic ring toss booth, plopping down a few bills. “three tries,” the vendor says, handing over the rings.

chenle smirks, holding up a ring between two fingers. “watch and learn.”

you cross your arms. “you’re gonna lose.”

“you doubt me? me?” he presses a hand over his chest in mock offense. “that hurts. deeply.”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t miss the way his lips twitch, barely holding back a grin. and maybe you’re just a little curious to see if he can actually win.

the first ring bounces off the bottle. the second does the same.

you glance at him, smug. “loser talk, huh?”

chenle exhales, rolling his shoulders like he’s about to take the final shot of an nba game. then, he tosses the last ring.

it lands perfectly.

the booth lights flash, and the vendor claps once. “winner!”

chenle throws his arms up like he just won an olympic gold medal, then turns to you, triumphant. “see? skill.”

you shake your head, unimpressed. “that was luck.”

“skill,” he repeats, accepting the prize. a heart-shaped plushie. he turns to you, eyes twinkling, and before you can react, he presses it into your arms.

you blink down at it. “what—”

“you did say no cheesy stuff, but, y’know.” he shrugs. “couldn’t help myself.”

your fingers tighten around the plushie despite yourself. you tell yourself it means nothing. that he’s just being his usual, annoying self.

but when you look up, he’s already watching you, a small, knowing smile playing at his lips.

and for the first time tonight, you don’t have a quick comeback.

—

you don’t know when it happens—when the reluctant acceptance of being here turns into something else, something dangerously close to enjoying yourself. it had been at least an hour by now, you didn’t notice, not keeping track anymore.

maybe it’s when chenle insists on buying you a strawberry milkshake, claiming it matches the “valentine’s aesthetic” before promptly stealing half of it with a smug grin. or maybe it’s when he drags you to the dart booth, loses spectacularly, and then pouts at you until you give up your last attempt—only for you to actually win, leaving him in stunned silence before he bursts into laughter.

“i can’t believe this,” he groans, throwing an arm over his eyes dramatically. “this is the worst day of my life.”

you snort, sipping the remnants of your milkshake. “you’re just mad i’m better than you.”

chenle lowers his arm, watching you with that ever-present amusement in his eyes. “nah, i’m just mad i have to give you all my future winnings now. gotta keep my girl’s record clean.”

you freeze.

he doesn’t, not even for a second, like he didn’t just say something that sent your brain into overdrive. instead, he steps closer, leaning in slightly. “huh. no comeback?”

your fingers tighten around the stuffed bear he won for you earlier, and you tear your gaze away, heart pounding in your chest. “shut up.”

he laughs, the sound rich and full, and for once, you don’t mind being the reason for it.

the realization hits you then—soft but certain. you like being here. you like chenle. you had for a while; behind all the sourness you felt towards him, hearing his laugh, bubbly personality, and seeing his stupid smile. and the worst part? you don’t even want to fight it anymore.

—

the sun has nearly set, casting the fairgrounds in a golden haze, and you swear the air feels different—softer, warmer, like the world itself is urging you to stay in this moment a little longer.

“okay,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear. “this wasn’t terrible.”

chenle turns to you, grinning like he’s just won the biggest prize of the night. “that’s it? that’s all i get?”

you roll your eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “okay, fine. i had fun, okay?”

he hums, clearly satisfied, and nudges your shoulder with his. “good. now let’s end on a high note.”

you don’t even have time to question it before he’s steering you toward the ferris wheel. the line is short, and before you can put up a fight—not that you’re sure you even want to—he’s already handing over tickets, tugging you into one of the cars.

the ride begins, slow and steady, lifting you above the fair, above the laughter and music, until all that’s left is the quiet hum of the night and the soft glow of carnival lights below.

chenle leans back, stretching out like he owns the place, but then he turns his head, watching you carefully. “so?”

you glance at him. “so what?”

he tilts his head, eyes warm, knowing. “so, am i growing on you?”

you’ve always thought of chenle as loud, unpredictable, a little too confident for his own good. but here, in the quiet, you see something else—the way his eyes search yours like he’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking, the way his fingers tap idly against his knee, like he’s waiting for something.

you let out a breath of laughter, but your heart betrays you, beating faster than it should. you should have a snarky response, something quick and teasing, but all you can do is hold his gaze, the space between you charged with something unspoken.

he shifts closer, not enough to cross a line, but enough to make it clear—if you wanted to close the gap, he wouldn’t stop you.

your fingers tighten around the stuffed bear in your lap.

“maybe,” you whisper.

chenle’s smile softens, and then he gently reaches out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, fingertips lingering just a second too long.

the ferris wheel slows, grounding you, but as you look at him, at the way he’s watching you like he’s memorizing every detail, you realize something—

maybe you don’t mind falling, after all.

—

taggies(open) ↳ @kittydollzz @huffnpufffck @completelyjae @lovesuhng @nae-vm @ayibdorrt @chocoriki @yomaman @yukisroom97

⁀➷⊹ ࣪ ˖~ THE LA LA LOVE SERIES .ᐟ

[hyperfocusthusly]

Several Sentence Sunday

No one tagged me but I’m going to give you a little look into my @bucktommyfluffebruary day 16 prompt ‘AU: didn’t know they were dating because it has taken on a life of its own and I’m not sure I’ll be able to get it out in full on time 🙈 so enjoy this little bit and know that I am working on it 😘

Also shout out to @leashybebes for the motivation/ listening while I yapped about this

———

“Hey did you know that Bruce Willis wasn’t the first choice to play John McClane?”

Tommy dumps his bag down by the island, comes into the kitchen to see what Evan was making for dinner.

“No, I didn’t.”

Buck face lights up with the knowledge that he’s giving Tommy something new.

“Yeah, he was like sixth in line, they offered it to bunch of people like Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sylvester Stallone, Burt Reynolds, Harrison Ford before they gave it to him. Apparently because he was in a show called Moonlighting at the time which was more like a drama comedy thing? They weren’t super sure he’d be a good fit for all the action.”

“Hard to imagine anyone else doing it now.”

Tommy watches Evan, he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, radiating energy.

“Wait, how did you know? I thought you said you’d never watched it before?”

“I hadn’t.” Evan grins slips past him to get to the fridge. He tries not to think about the bare heat of Evan’s bicep as it brushes past his own. “I was listening to this podcast at work today.” He comes back past, waving the stick of celery he had retrieved as he talks. “While we were restocking the engine, it was really interesting - apparently McClane wasn’t meant to fall so far in the elevator scene, he was supposed to stop at the first vent but when they shot it the stunt man slipped and fell further than he was meant to.”

Tommy isn’t paying as much attention to Evan’s words as he should be. He is watching the muscles in Evan’s back move as he chops the vegetables on the counter in front of him. The up and down of his shoulder, the flex across his shoulder blade when he has to press down through something harder. Selfishly imagining what it would feel like to feel those muscles shift under his hands, to press a kiss to the juncture of Evan’s neck while he’s cooking, rambling about a film he had no interest in before yesterday.

A film that he went and researched because he thought Tommy would like the extra information. He squeezes his eyes shut, scrubs a hand over his cheek. He needs to get a hold of himself. Evan is straight. He’s has never talked about anything other than women as far as Tommy can remember and even if he wasn’t, it’s not like he would be interested in Tommy anyway.

——-

NP tags 🫶🏻: @dark-alice-lilith @livelaughlou @laundryandtaxesworld @sad-girl-hours23 @bidisasterevankinard @sweaters-and-silly @theotherbuckley @sunnywithachanceofbi

[luv4arinn]

THIS!!

April is my comfort character (and yes, I also love Megan Fox, I’m not complaining). She’s so sweet, I adore her. I’ve always seen her as a mother/big sister figure to the turtles, and that dynamic is pure gold.

BUT GOD— Bayverse April had SO much potential for real character development.

And what did they do with her? Oh, right, they added that super necessary shot of her butt in the first movie. Wow. Such a great contribution to the plot. Absolutely essential. I hate how they sexualized her.

Like—HELLO?? This girl lost her entire family in a single night. Her father died in a fire, and the only thing she had left were four little turtles and a rat. And not only did she save them from the flames—she freed them, let them live, and loved them from the very start.

While anyone else would have run away, April treated those five mutant experiments as her family, even as a child.

Don’t tell me she didn’t feel incredibly guilty when she left them in the sewer.

Don’t tell me she didn’t cry in her bed, wondering if they survived.

Oh God, my girl.

And then she grew up admiring SACKS, only to find out that he was responsible for her father’s death.

She also grew up believing it had all been a dream, that the turtles and Splinter had died that night. Until one day, years later, she sees them again.

Where is April’s emotional arc? Where is her trauma?

You’re telling me she felt guilty when she accidentally led Sacks to the lair???

And the worst part? That Shredder showed up and almost killed Splinter.

WHAT A LOAD OF CRAP.

AND ON TOP OF THAT, you’re telling me that by the second movie, Raph DIDN’T teach her how to break skulls??

LMAOOOO. Be serious.

Better yet, you’re telling me they cut scenes between April and Raph??

WHAT.

We need MORE Bayverse April content. I’m on my knees. Begging.

So YES, I’m joining the cause.

Here, have some more headcanons for our sweet April <3



April is absolutely obsessed with yellow. It’s her color, her essence, her vibe. But not just any yellow—her yellow. If you see a piece of clothing in that shade in her closet, chances are she bought it in multiple versions: jackets, blouses, heels… even phone cases.

April is an honorary turtle, whether she likes it or not. She’s their human sister, and you can bet they’re always causing chaos in her apartment. Pizza stains on the couch? Of course. Mikey hanging from the ceiling fan? Don’t ask. Donnie trying to install some weird tech in her toaster? Definitely.

April and Donnie are the ultimate geek disaster siblings. There’s no way she understood all the information Donnie dumped on her about Baxter Stockman in the second movie the first time. God, I know she was a fan of him too before realizing he was insane. She gets excited over the same nerdy topics as Donnie—though sometimes, she just nods and pretends to understand.

April knows Mikey has a crush on her. She’s not stupid, it’s so obvious that UGH— but she doesn’t want to hurt him, so she pretends she never noticed. To her, Mikey is like her little brother. She gives him hugs, ruffles his bandana affectionately, and tells him he’ll find someone amazing one day.

Leo respects her more than he lets on. He doesn’t trust many people outside of his family, but April earned that place. When he’s stressed, sometimes she’s the only one who can calm him down with a simple “Hey, breathe. We’ll figure it out.”

April drives like a lunatic. They trust her to get them out of dangerous situations, but every time she gets behind the wheel, EVERYONE holds on like it’s their last day on Earth. Raph yells insults, Mikey enjoys it way too much, Donnie calculates survival odds in his head, and Leo just accepts his fate.

When she found them again, she spent nights watching videos of their childhood. Sometimes she cried, sometimes she laughed, but mostly, she wondered what her life would’ve been like if she had never lost them… or her father.

After the first movie, Raph taught her how to kick ass. Oh my God, YES. Though she had to wait for him to take the initiative because she didn’t want to be a burden (she never would be). Now she can take down a guy twice her size without hesitation.

THIS WOMAN FACED SHREDDER ALONE HUNDREDS OF FEET IN THE AIR. WOAH. She’s got nerves of steel.

That’s why she’s 100% protective of her family and loved ones. Yes, even Vern. Especially Vern, because she knows he’d probably be dead without her.

If someone says anything even remotely offensive about them, April is already throwing daggers. Say one more word, and this woman will POUNCE. She’s mastered the “watch me destroy you with a single sentence” technique in interviews and doesn’t hesitate to use it.

She’s incredibly studious and takes her job seriously. I’m sure she had to fight to stop being seen as just a pretty face. She probably had to deal with way too many condescending remarks in her career, and every time someone tried to belittle her, she responded with cold, hard facts.

She can go hours without sleep when researching something. One time, Leo had to literally take her laptop away because she hadn’t rested in two days.

She has a special connection with Splinter. He’s like a father figure to her, and even though she doesn’t always talk about her emotions, there are moments when Splinter simply serves her a cup of tea and says, “I’m proud of you, April.” And that’s enough.

Her apartment is always a mess, but somehow, she knows exactly where everything is. Donnie tried organizing it once. Big mistake.

Mikey once took her skating through the sewers, and while she screamed like crazy at first, she ended up laughing like never before. It was the highlight of her week.

She’s an absolute fan of heroes and comics. And I know she loves Star Wars. (I’m sure Leo does too, but he just pretends he doesn’t.) Ask her anything about it, and she’ll hit you with incredibly specific information and bibliographic references. Donnie and Mikey once tried to test her knowledge, and they ended up with their heads stuffed full of facts about the original trilogy, Legends, and why Han shot first.

Absolutely, she buys/gives merch to Leo. And to the turtles, too. If you see Leo wearing a black hoodie with the Jedi Order logo, that was April. If Mikey suddenly shows up with a glow-in-the-dark Deadpool t-shirt, that was also April. Raph with a Punisher jacket? Yep, April.

I’m convinced the wardrobe change for the turtles in the second movie was all her doing. I mean, Donnie wearing solar panels as a loincloth… we all cried. April made sure they were dressed more appropriately, but also in a way that fit each of their styles. Mikey was the hardest because he liked everything (“BROOO, what about this? Or this? OR THIS?”), and Leo only agreed because she assured him that “Jedis also evolved their armor.”

No doubt she expands Splinter’s tea pantry. If there’s a rare, expensive, and hard-to-find Chinese tea, April has already gotten it for him—in three different versions. Mikey and Raph don’t understand how there can be so many differences between “grass-flavored teas,” but she and Splinter can spend hours analyzing them.

Yes, she supplies them. Clothes? Yes. Food? Yes. When she saw their fridge stocked with nothing but soda and pizza boxes, she nearly cried. Now, half of it is still soda and pizza, but at least there’s some fruit and protein.

She shares a love for bonsais with Splinter and Leo. It’s their relaxation activity together. But ironically, I know this woman has killed a cactus at least once. Mikey never let her live it down.

You cannot convince me this woman hasn’t gotten at least one tattoo. She loves body art and shares that interest with the brothers. I’m sure she let at least one of them tattoo her—probably a design by Mikey. Something small on her wrist or behind her ear, with a meaning only they understand.

Leo and Donnie made sure everything was 100% safe and sterile. Donnie literally turned Mikey’s space into a mini improvised tattoo studio. “God, April, if you’re going to do this, at least don’t die of an infection”.

Mikey was way too excited. “BROOO, THIS IS ETERNAL ART!” He made at least five sketches before she finally chose one.

She and Raph have a tradition of watching UFC fights together. He yells like he’s in the arena, and she just watches with a beer in hand, completely unfazed—until she sees the perfect kick and mutters, “Shit, that was brutal.”

Even though she helps them in their crime-fighting, she keeps trying to remind them not to forget how to live. Sometimes they show up at her place expecting to plan their next mission, only for her to force them to watch movies, play video games, or just hang out like a normal family. Well… as normal as four giant ninja turtles and an infiltration-expert reporter can be.

Donnie has taught her basic hacking. Not at his level, but enough to sneak into certain databases without getting traced. This is a problem, because now, whenever she wants a big scoop for work, Donnie gets a message like: “Hey, hypothetically speaking… if you had to break into TCRI Industries’ private files… how would you do it? Just curious.”

If Mikey is sad, April notices before anyone else. And even though she can’t give him what he truly wants (her romantic love), she always makes sure he knows how much she loves and values him. She’s the first to hug him, to make him laugh with a dumb joke, and to remind him that someday, he’ll find someone who loves him as much as he loves the world.

If she ever disappears, she’s probably at a nerd convention dressed as a Jedi. Leo would pretend not to be interested, even as she tries to convince him to come with her.

I mean, in full cosplay, who would even realize he’s an actual mutant turtle and not just a Jedi-Hulk crossover?

Obviously, Leo said no.

“April, it’s a public event. I can’t risk it.”

“Leo, there are guys in Iron Man suits that look straight out of the movies, and no one questions them. Literally no one would look at you twice.”

“No.”

“Coward.”

In the end, Mikey did go with her, dressed as a Mandalorian. He ended up signing autographs because everyone thought he was a hyper-realistic animatronic.

She has a theory that turtles don’t have actual fingerprints.

After multiple failed attempts to get them to use touch ID, she concluded that their prints are too irregular for normal sensors to read. Donnie took this personally when he tested it and failed. “This is impossible. My hands are scientifically perfect.”

She has the power to calm Raph down when he’s too fired up. Not with words. Just with a look.

When he’s about to lose control, she gives him the stare. The one that says “No. Don’t do it.”

And… well, he doesn’t always listen, but at least he hesitates.

She knows exactly how to make Leo agree to a plan that isn’t his. Just make him think it was his idea. It’s an art she has perfected.

“It would be great if someone designed a strategy that included this and this…”

“Hmm… maybe we could—”

“That’s an excellent idea, Leo! I knew you’d think of it!”

“…You’re manipulating me, aren’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She has her own underground information network. Being a reporter and the turtles’ best friend has taught her how to move in the shadows. She has contacts everywhere—hackers, informants, low-ranking cops who hate corruption… She knows how to get intel without leaving a trace.

If she needs to go undercover, she does it with ridiculous disguises. No sleek, sexy black suits—she goes full grandma mode with awful wigs, oversized glasses, and the most unflattering clothes possible. Nobody suspects the clumsy woman who drops her purse every five seconds.

One time, Raph took her to train with Casey. And dear God, this woman fought for her life not to fall flat on her face on the ice. Raph mocked her mercilessly until she threw a snowball at his face.

She’s the only human on Earth who immediately understands Donnie’s jokes. Sometimes, she even finishes them before he does. Mikey considers this a scientific abomination beyond comprehension.

She drives like a maniac but has never crashed. It’s a miracle. She’s come dangerously close to hitting poles, jumped between moving cars, pulled off maneuvers that defy physics… but her record remains flawless. The cops can’t catch her if they can’t keep up.

Raph nicknamed her “ferrous” after watching her stand her ground against Shredder.

“You’re tougher than most people I know. You don’t break.”

She won’t admit it, but that nickname makes her smile a little every time she hears it.

She’s a fan of rock and alternative music. She has a playlist for everything. Training with Raph? Metallica. Investigative work? The Killers. Speeding away from the Foot Clan? AC/DC.

She does not fear Baxter Stockman. She did for about 0.2 seconds the first time she saw him. Then he opened his mouth, and she realized she could manipulate him into spilling information. Spoiler: she did.

If anyone hurts her turtles, she becomes a vengeful demon. She’s not a fighter, she doesn’t have super strength, but she’s smart and completely unafraid to get her hands dirty. She can make someone’s life a living hell with just a few phone calls and some well-done investigative work.

She’s been kidnapped so many times she doesn’t even panic anymore. The first time: “OH MY GOD!” The fourth time: “Okay, what’s the plan this time?”

If Casey calls her “babe” at the worst possible moment, she hits him. Not seriously, but just hard enough on the arm to make him understand that now is not the time.

Vern is only alive because she tolerates him. She genuinely cares about him, but there are days when, dear God, that man is unbearable.

If any of the turtles are injured, she’s the first to act. She’s not a doctor, but she’s learned enough from Donnie to perform advanced first aid. She’s also the only human strong enough to hold Raph up when he’s stumbling from an injury.

Mikey uses her as his human meme reference.

“APRIL, I LEARNED HOW TO MAKE MEMES WITH YOUR FACE.”

“Mikey, I swear if you Photoshop me into another Shrek meme…”

“…Oops.”

One time, she beat Raph in a pizza-eating contest. He swears he was just having an off day. She never lets him forget it.

If Splinter says he approves of her, then she’s family. And if anyone messes with her… They mess with the turtles.

that’a all bye <3

bayverse! April headcanons

because i hate the way megan fox was sexualised in the movies i wanna give her more personality than just being hot and smart 😭 i heart u bayverse April

- she thrifts! not just expensive 'real vintage' designer labels but everything, she also finds clothes than can be easily upcycled and tweaked for the boys. Her signature color is yellow so you KNOW she has rare and whimsical pieces she collects in her wardrobe

- speaking of which; she sews! Mikey often rips or breaks his stuff (like shoes and shirts) and hes always giving her bits and pieces to fix up. As much as Donnie is a tech wiz, Aprils expertise lies in the art of DIY! shes tried to teach Don how to sew but ironically its one of the few things he cant crack

- shes a stem nut, OBVIOUSLY! her and Don bond the most over new technology and the advancement of science and digital technology. her and Don made her a pc from scratch and its one of her most precious memories

- April has a really bad sweet tooth, when the guys get pizza for the rare nights in, she's reaching for Mikeys candy stash for sure (she makes sure to replenish it with all their shared faves)

- her favourite candy is anything sour! but actually sour, we're talking throat numbingly sour to the point where at the end of the bag all you taste is blood 💀 it freaks everyone out lmao

- she has a masters in journalism and a degree social sciences, its so important to her to give visibility to the stories rarely talked about. Shes very dedicated to her profession and genuinely gets mad that all vern cares about is attention from fans and the camera

- April is also very passionate about nutrition and fitness! she goes total big sister mode when the turtles neglect their protein intake especially with how big and physically demanding their jobs are. a few times she's tried to teach Leo how to cook for his brothers and hes just about learned how to not burn eggs on toast but shell be damned if she starts cooking for 4 6ft men 😭 respectfully not her job!

- she's incredibly protective of her friends, whoever they may be, even Vern. she doesn't take lightly to disrespect and she WILL trash talk you to silence if you make anyone she cares about feel less than

- when she was younger she wanted to be a zoologist or anthropologist. Like her dad, she's always had a love for science and research, but she loved animals so much as a kid and it crushed her when she realised her father was experimenting on animals

- she feels personally responsible for the turtles and Splinter, she visits them atleast once a night, whether on face time or in person. the fact that they feel theyll never be accepted in society weighs heavy on her heart. she wishes things were different

- she knows Mikey has a crush on her, but she doesn't know how to let him down gently and honestly doesn't wanna open that can of worms, so she just pretends she doesn't notice his very desperate flirting

- sleeper build april. SLEEPER BUILD APRIL. people treat her like shes fragile just because she's beautiful but shes also incredibly strong with amazing endurance. i mean hello?! SHE CAN RUN IN HEELS. thats badass

- she loves game nights w the turtles and Casey, she loves playing MK and her go-to character is ofc Mileena (goated and no im not biased)

- she may or may not have a dedicated collection of disguises for super sleuthing and recon. shes very proud of it and will give a tour if asked

- she wants to learn ninjitsu, just doesn't know if she should ask or wait to be asked. she feels awkward and sometimes wonders if its not her place, even though in reality Splinter would be happy to train someone so dedicated to justice.

- her favourite drink is banana protein smoothie!! the lair has a smoothie just for her 😭 they have to hide it from Mikey before he gets back into his liquid pizza phase again

- she likes hero comics/shows (like 2012 leo!). Naruto was her childhood and its kinda beautifully ironic that she's like a ninja by proxy now

thats all for now! its been like 5 years since ive written headcanons so sorry if the format is boring, lmk if you want more headcanons! ok bai

[rockwgooglyeyes]

Hi Rocky, remember when I said I had conflicting feelings about Round 7. Well um what did you think of the new video

Geo!! Lovely to see you :3

So unpopular opinion maybe, but I actually really liked Wiege? That could be just because I enjoyed the song but the amount of lore that they're able to give us in little snapshots is truly amazing. Hyuna losing her round, Hyuna sacrificing herself for Luka, all of the natural metaphors in the lyrics (the wings drenched with longing finally unfold, you'll embrace the sea that sings, etc), Mizi finally gonna go apeshit . . . I'm excited for what's next and I'm actually very happy with Wiege! Not necessarily happy that Hyuna died but uh thats more complicated. . .

One, it seems apparent that Luka killed the other clones of him? Which is both insane but also makes a lot of sense, insofar as his feeling of superiority towards them. It's a crazy thing to think about but it shows the way that he views most other living beings as chess pieces in a broader game, if that makes sense? He doesn't really care about people on a personal level, most often, and that's what makes Hyuna special. . .

We also get to see how Luka's love is both obsessive and possessive, the him kissing her wanted posted while in his room, (yknow the whole "your life is mine" bit from before) but we also get to see how Luka's love really is, in part, about seeking comfort from someone he loves. He leans into Hyuna while she cries, likely mourning Hyunwoo's death, and when he runs towards her, he's reaching out. It's strange how . . . earnest it is, how unadulterated by anything like possession or conditions. Not only that but Hyuna does seem to genuinely love Luka back, maybe not romantically, but she definitely cherishes him, which we knew before but it's still nice to see confirmed again.

Additionally, I would say that we get evidence that the fight that killed Hyunwoo, well, it was started by Hyunwoo. It seems likely that Luka did something to annoy Hyunwoo or did something that frustrated him, enough that Hyunwoo decided to get physical. I mean Hyunwoo doesn't seem happy about it, for sure. But with the framing, it makes me think that Hyunwoo was simply killed in a fight, most likely on accident- though we know that Luka has possessive feelings over Hyuna, from what we've seen of his past with Hyuna and Hyunwoo, he didn't seem to view them as that much of a separate entity. A lot of the shots where Hyunwoo is still alive, in Wiege at least, Hyunwoo is framed as positively as Hyuna is . . . which makes me think that Luka didn't kill Hyunwoo on purpose.

Then again it doesn't really appear like Luka knew what he'd done, in the aftermath. . .

We also get to see more glimpses of the kiddos at the garden which made me very happy!! I don't have much to say about it but I simply find it endearing to see them all together again, to have that confirmation that they really were friends, they really did love each other. Ivan bringing the others to take care of the waygein was the most interested of the "past" cutscenes to me . . . besides all of the Hyuna focused ones, that is.

Additionally, the snippets of a modern alternate universe, seemingly the high school au? or something adjacent to that, is so lovely, just to see them all happy . . .

I think it's so interesting that Hyuna sacrifices herself, fulfilling a pattern that we've seen before with 3 out of the now 4 dead characters. Ivan, Sua, and now Hyuna, all sacrificed their lives for a person that they loved. It's fascinating on a more meta level that Hyuna's sacrifice is the only one that isn't planned, she didn't intend to die for Luka today but she does because she doesn't think, she just knows that she needs to save him from being killed. I think that both of those forms of sacrifice are kind of lovely, they show the willingness to put your life on the line for someone you love (but sacrifice in and of itself is often a selfish act, and I'm definitely not saying it's heroic . . . just poetic).

Not only that but the rocket imagery behind Hyuna while she's speaking to Luka is so so strange. I don't really know what that is but I have one theory; "because everything begins from there." I think that the rocket, maybe, is representative of that first contact that humans had with the seygein all those years ago, the way that humanity got itself into this mess of slavery and suffering, and by extension, "everything begins from there." but that's my only real thoughts on the rocket . . .

man this is so long I'm sorry Geo . . . suffice to say, I actually like Wiege!! probably a weird thing to say but uh yeah, the song is lovely, the animation is stunningly beautiful as per usual, and the story is utterly thought provoking, I am rapt. The amount of lore we got in this episode along makes me froth at the mouth a little.

Thank you so much for asking, Geo!! I am going to send you an ask because I'm curious what you thought 👀 love youuuu thank you so much for indulging me :3

[bwat5-blog]

The Price Of Mercy, And The Weight Of Guilt: Caitlyn Kiramman

**SPOILERS FOR ARCANE**

How Do We Get Here:

Twenty-three year old Caitlyn Kiramman stands in the dark ruins of a Zaunite cannery. In the last few days, she has been beaten, shot at, blown up, abducted nude from her childhood home, and terrorized. Jinx, the person responsible, stands across from Caitlyn at gunpoint:

Jinx moves Caitlyn fires Vi shouts to stop and Caitlyn does, ordering Jinx to drop the gun Caitlyn raises the gun when Jinx doesn't comply and Vi begs- "Wait! She's my sister" Caitlyn keeping the gun on Jinx responds- "Vi, she's too far gone" Jinx lowers the gun. Caitlyn looks to Vi who begs- "no no no" Caitlyn still doesn't shoot. Jinx takes advantage of her indecision and attacks, seizing the weapon and brutally knocking Caitlyn unconscious.

And when Caitlyn is back on her feet, what is the cost of her mercy?

The death of her mother

The deaths of two other councilors

The maiming of two more (one paralyzed from the waist down)

The destruction of the council chamber

The memorial attack- You and I know Jinx wasn't involved but I stand by what I've always said, there's no way they don't think Jinx played some role after what she did

The unavoidable Piltovan response for what Jinx did coming down on Zaun

And we also must consider the crimes Jinx had committed up to that point that Caitlyn as someone who wanted to protect people would be considering as well:

She knows Jinx played a part in Silco's Shimmer operations

She survives Jinx's theft of the stone in which six enforcers were killed by Jinx using a fake childs voice, lighting a building on fire and blowing it up

She survives Jinx's attack on the bridge in which the admittedly corrupt Markus and several Enforcers were killed

Jinx infiltrates Caitlyn's childhood home and takes her while she is naked in her bathroom. She dresses her in her Enforcer clothes and takes her to Zaun. Recent sources from the Artbook seem to confirm she was held for a whole day. And there is some evidence to suggest Jinx tortured her although that is much more speculative

In The Aftermath:

It is with that in mind we can begin to discuss the subject of Caitlyn's guilt and how it impacts her story in season two. Now obviously, the immense trauma of all of those events I listed has a massive impact on Caitlyn, and we have to keep some things in mind regarding all of that:

She is an adult yes, but she is still quite young. Only twenty-three when all of that down and still only twenty-four by the end of the show She essentially has zero time to process/grieve/recover. There is clearly some degree of a time skip between the beginning of S2 E1 and the end, as statues had to be built, and we see progression in Salo and Shoola's healing in particular. But it really doesn't seem like very long. And it's hardly like she was resting. She is providing testimony on what she saw and went through, and taking over the leadership of her family. Despite the astounding felonious stupidity needed to arrive at such an idea, no. Caitlyn's wealth and privilege growing up did not somehow give her an emotional resilience to pain and death. In fact it makes it harder for her in this moment because she had never experienced such things. You cannot be used to a pain you have never felt. This is not complicated. Caitlyn's faith and belief in the system she always believed in has been completely destroyed:

That Caitlyn truly believed the Enforcers were a force for good before all of this is not debatable by anyone discussing this show in good faith. There is plenty of proof supporting this that I don't feel the need to go and pull right now. For any of you "she should have known" folks- Nope. She'd quite literally never been to the Undercity. And we see how the Enforcers behave when Topside repeatedly. No masks, smiling, waving, happy and cheerful. Caitlyn quite literally had lessons from the Sheriff herself on shooting, who spoke to her about protecting their people. We see her belief being chipped away little by little during her meeting Vi and Ekko both. They both make allegations against the Enforcers and logically and reasonably Caitlyn would have no reason to believe but after some resistance she is quiet and listens, processing. This all culminates on the bridge. Markus, who has not been nice to Caitlyn but is still the leader of The Enforcers confronts her and Ekko. She puts her trust in Markus, telling him they have prove and insisting Ekko show him. And then it all comes violently apart as Markus shoots Ekko, and the enforcers with him do nothing when he prepares to shoot Caitlyn.

SUMMARY: In a very short amount of time Caitlyn has her entire reality violently ripped away by the destruction of 4 fundamental parts of her foundation:

Security- Jinx violating the sanctity and safety of her childhood home by taking her at her most vulnerable

Stability- Her mother is violently taken from her leaving a massive hole emotionally and in society that she is expected to fill

Innocence- She is exposed to a tremendous amount of violence she is completely unprepared for

Faith- the system of law and order she dedicated herself to and believes in is ripped away from her and almost kills her

And she has no time to deal with any of it before the violence continues. No time to heal, to grieve, to rest. Ambessa orchestrates the attack on the memorial and we are off to the races. But first, we need to discuss my entire point with this, the impact of Caitlyn's guilt.

Obviously, Caitlyn does blame Jinx. I'm not going to bother with examples because they are beyond obvious. She also hates and is legitimately terrified of Jinx as well which is beyond expected given all that has happened. But I think what is even more damaging for Caitlyn is that she blames herself. We see this reflected in many ways:

1. The last lines of "I can't hear it now" as I pointed out yesterday:

 "I watched the door close for good Cause I couldn't keep it open"

Like I and several others have pointed out, these songs take us into the minds of the characters with their words and tell us important parts of the story (HINT HINT to all of you who complain about missing detail then proudly proclaim how you skip the songs)

This song takes us into Caitlyn's mind in the aftermath of her mother's death. All of the lyrics speak to her characterization in an important way but this topic look at those last two lines. This is essentially her goodbye to her mother, and she doesn't swear revenge. She doesn't proclaim her love. She blames herself.

She had to say goodbye to her mother, because she failed to keep her safe when she could have...

2. Talking with her dad

This one is much more obvious of course. But we get this very sad scene of Caitlyn talking with her father in S2 E1 after the intro song.

Caitlyn is sitting on a couch reading letters of condolence when her father sits next to her, clearly disheveled and not doing well. They are sitting quietly for a bit before Caitlyn tells her father "I had the shot", staring at the floor with glassy tear filled eyes. Her father doesn't say anything in response, just closes his eyes and accepts. Then when he gives her the Kiramman key, she says "I don't deserve it".

3. Talking with Vi

Her conversation with Tobias leads directly into this one. She and Vi share a touching embrace and Vi apologizes to Caitlyn, admitting Powder is gone and insisting if Jayce will fix the gauntlets Vi can take care of this herself with no one else being hurt. But Caitlyn refuses:

"No... No more rogue missions. No more reckless plans. My mother was right. My arrogance led me to take on more than I could handle, and she paid the price".

Again very plain and to the point. With all that has happened and all the factors that played into this situation, she is holding herself responsible.

She failed her mother...

She could have stopped Jinx and didn't...

She doesn't deserve the legacy of her family...

Her mother died because of Caitlyn's arrogance...

SUMMARY: So again sorry to sound like a broken record but I feel like I'm rambling a bit so this helps me to!

Caitlyn has lost her entire foundation for how she views the world in a rapid and extremely violent manner

Her arrogance lead to her mothers death and even given the chance to stop it she still failed her (she believes)

She doesn't deserve the role of leading House Kiramman but has no choice (she believes)

Not related to this (at this point) but its worth mentioning for consideration into her emotional state. Obviously, her relationship with Vi and by extension Vi being Jinx's sister DRAMATICALLY complicates Caitlyn's feeling in all of this

Losing Herself:

** Note it should be obvious moving forward Caitlyn would consider "If I'd stopped Jinx there wouldn't be a memorial because my mom wouldn't be dead" type of scenarios. You get the point. So I'm not gonna mention that kind of thing every time just new stuff**

So we know the memorial attack was orchestrated by Ambessa to exacerbate the conflict between the cities, in hopes of weaponizing Hex-Tech. But specifically we are looking for how this continues to show Caitlyn's guilt is impacting her.

In the aftermath of the attack, Caitlyn is understandable extremely angry and upset. She and Vi are talking and Vi tells her "You have to find a way to call off the invasion" regarding the Council's plan to send a full Enforcer invasion into Zaun to hunt Jinx. Caitlyn angrily says she has no idea how and she has no idea how to fill the hole left by her mother. She and Vi talk and comfort one another, and Caitlyn forms the idea for the small task force, with Vi agreeing to put on the badge to be with her and assist.

Remember:

Caitlyn partially blames herself for this entire mess to begin with

She doesn't feel she deserves to lead her family. To be who her mother was. because she failed her.

The woman she loves tells her SHE has to figure this out. And in Vi's defense she is not blaming or trying to make things harder for Caitlyn. Caitlyn has the status and the family name and all and is realistically their best chance at finding another way. Let's take a look at some other lyrics from I can't hear it now-

"Just tell me how to keep breathing while pretending I'm not drowning"

So Caitlyn turns to what was left behind by her mother. She discovers The Grey. And rather than a massive invasion of heavily armed Enforcers who won't care a lick for Zaunite lives, Caitlyn proposes her plan. A small, targeted team of people, hunting specific targets that are a danger to Zaun and Piltover alike. Using something that will prevent as much bloodshed as possible.

Because it isn't that it DOESN"T matter that she is shoving down her trauma trying to be what's expected of her, that using The Grey in this way is a perversion of her mother's work for Zaun, or that the woman she loves is wearing the badge of her parents killers to stay by her side. Its that it CAN'T matter.

Caitlyn had the shot

Caitlyn failed her mother

Caitlyn has to fix this

**SIDE NOTE BEFORE WE CONTINUE: No. Caitlyn did not make Vi become an Enforcer and I have zero clue where some of you are getting that. What I mean when I say it can't matter to Caitlyn in this state is that I think it's something that when she has had time to heal, and reflect, and just be for a bit, it will be something she wishes she hadn't done. She loves Vi deeply, and asking her to put on that badge and hunt her little sister isn't something Caitlyn would ever do under normal circumstances. And as a steadfast Vi fan, hear me now:

"VI CHOSE TO PUT ON THAT BADGE"

Anyway back to Caitlyn-

Losing Herself- HELLFIRE:

We know what happens from here. Caitlyn gives in more and more to her darker angels in the name of their mission. In the name of justice and making things right to protect people she becomes more violent and angry, to the point that Vi is so afraid of how she is changing we see their first kiss. Once again all we need to do for clarity here is to look into the lyrics that take us into Caitlyn's head:

"Can I do the right thing for the wrong reason? Is it bad that I'm making friends with my demons" (Hellfire)

It almost feels silly analyzing this because it is quite plain. But the amount of people just straight up making things up about Caitlyn's mindset during this time make it worth discussion.

The Strike Team's Objectives:

Dismantle Shimmer: Horrifying drug that turns addicts into monsters if it doesn't kill them first

Neutralize agents still loyal to Silco: Chem-Barons. Dangerous drug lords ripping Zaun apart for their own gain

Find Jinx: We have recapped her crimes enough. You get it.

Clearly these are all good things on their own, and resolving these threats to safety helps Zaun and Piltover. But Caitlyn and her team aren't riding in on white horses to save the day. Caitlyn is losing herself more and more to all of this mounting trauma that is slowly overwhelming her. But she can't stop. She has to fix this.

She had the shot...

Her arrogance killed her mother...

She doesn't deserve to lead her family...

If she'd stopped Jinx there wouldn't have been an attack so even the fact that they are down here at all is Caitlyn's fault as well...

This is her fault...

Caitlyn's Downfall:

And of course this all comes to a head when Caitlyn and Vi finally confront Jinx and Sevika. I have broken this fight down and everything that transpires more times than I can count so I'll spare you all that again. But continuing to tackle this thing through Caitlyn's guilt we can talk about this.

Take everything we have already considered. All of her guilt over mother, her feeling of not deserving her legacy, her guilt over Vi's involvement, and twist that all up with the grief, and trauma, and pain and rage, and fear she has been totally unable to heal from. That absolute shitstorm is rampaging through her entire being. And she is face to face with the living embodiment of all of it.

She is one rifle shot away from justice for everything she hates Jinx for, and blames herself for. A chance to slay her monster. A chance to make things right. And that is all she can see.

She can't see that little girl whose life she is risking

She can't see the woman she loves begging her to stop and standing her way. She even fires striking Vi's gauntlet once and fires again

And then as we all know. That resolution Caitlyn so desperately needs in her mind is taken from her. Vi was completely correct to stop Caitlyn but in her complete emotional and mental overload that just cannot get through to to her. And it all comes down to a moment that, when we consider the guilt of Caitlyn Kiramman, I sincerely doubt she will ever truly forgive herself for

The Commander:

Looking for specific instances for analysis, we really don't get a lot of moments where she is truly lost as "The Commander" to apply to this topic. There is one I will mention very briefly.

When Caitlyn is speaking with Maddie in bed, Maddie does the same sort of baiting we see Ambessa do. Telling Caitlyn she could call it all of, she has the power and so on. It's an ongoing conversation but there is one line particularly I want to mention:

"Not without Jinx"

Now this could certainly just be her continued obsession with Jinx. But if we take everything else into account it doesn't feel that way. She seems tired, and full of regret. If you will indulge a bit of speculation, I go back to the lyrics from Hamilton I quoted frequently in my early days on here when I wrote about Caitlyn's story:

"There are moments when your in so deep, it feels easier to just swim down"

I believe Caitlyn is full of regret, and guilt, and self-hatred for all that has happened. Her betrayal of Vi, her becoming someone she never wanted, all of it. But it has to be worth it. Because she has nothing else left. If she gives up, if she doesn't get Jinx, then at the end of the day it was truly all for nothing. And we get some proof of that when she speaks with Jinx later.

"I've hated you.. hated myself. I just don't have the energy for it any longer"

Conclusion:

Caitlyn's journey is influenced by so many things. And I feel like I ended up just sort of digging into her arc as I have done many times again to a point. But I hope you get something out of this. I certainly did by writing it as I always do, because I love this story. I wanted to try and dig into the part of her that is being driven by that self-doubt, and guilt, all born from a truly spectacular act of mercy. Caitlyn would have been well within her rights to obliterate Jinx then and there, and instead spares her. Changing her life forever in ways good and bad alike.

Thank you and take care!

[visionsofyouandme]

V. it’s such a wonderful thing to love

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: Life beyond Rome, 5 years later.

𝚠/𝚌: 4.4k

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜/𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: Fluff! Marcus loves his wife (you<3). Graphic depictions of childbirth. More fluff. Family time. SMUT (18+ MDNI), Fingering. Oral (f!receiving). Body worship. Cum eating. Unprotected p in v. Creampie. Huge, big, fat breeding kink. Did I mention Marcus loves his wife?

𝙰/𝙽: Happy Valentines Day, first and foremost!! Secondly... Ugh. We're at the end of my first ever series. I'm emotional, people!!! Thank you to those who have read and interacted with my stories, especially this one. Marcus and Reader will always have a special place in my heart!! Let me know if you would want to see a little more of them- i'm open to one shots and drabbles for them ANY day! Only time will tell, I suppose :)

Hope you enjoy <3

Masterlist, AO3!

Some months later, you awoke to kisses on your arm, moving up to your shoulder. A hand smoothed out your hair, and you sighed in content then winced as your stomach twinged in pain. Your hand moved down to caress it gently, trying to quell the stomping of little feet against your stomach.

“Your “little warrior” is at it this morning.” you groaned softly, and Marcus chuckled from behind you, a hand on your hip as his kiss neared your neck. Marcus had given the nickname to the growing baby inside of you, and by the Gods did they live up to their name. It was nearly a constant barrage of kicks and movements these days, the medicus saying your time was drawing near. While you and Marcus were thrilled and anxiously awaiting their arrival, Marcus was beginning to become a little more quiet on the subject. You thought nothing of it at first, going about your daily duties of attending to the villa. But, one night, he confided in you his worries and anxieties. 

He was afraid something like what happened to his late, former wife would happen again. You could only listen as he went on, becoming frantic, worrisome, and you eventually held him in your arms, whispering that nothing like that would happen. The medicus and midwives were on standby, there to assist in any way possible. This seemed to help him, but he still shook with worry, trembling hands holding you, pressing against the baby you carried so gently. 

This morning, though, he seemed to be in better spirits.

“I do apologize, my dear, but they carry your spirit-”

“And yours,” you said, turning your head, and he placed a kiss on your lips, his hand coming to cup your cheek. He leaned his forehead against yours, and you smiled. “I hope they are every bit like you. Their smile, their eyes, their nose…”

“You are the other half of them, mea amata. I hope they possess more of you than anything else.” he said, and pat your hip gently,

“Come. I have had food brought to the dining area, and I know you are-”

“Famished, yes,” you groaned, and he helped you sit up, supporting you as you turned to slide off the bed.

“I am only with child, Marcus, not an invalid.” you laughed as Marcus stood by your side as you slid on your sandals. You looked up at him as he took your hand that he raised to his lips, giving it a deep kiss. 

“I do what I can to keep you and the little warrior comfortable and safe. Forgive me if I’m a little overbearing,” he said, and there was a soft sadness to his voice that made your eyebrows knit together. You touched his face gently, 

“Everything will be well, Marcus. I am sure of it.” you said, and gave him a smile. “Now, show me this spread you have promised me.” 

The days seemed to go by at a snails’ pace. Every day there was more pressure, more aches, more heat, and the medicus simply said it was all normal. You grumbled something about it needing to be over soon, causing him to chuckle.

“Any day now, My Lady,” he said, a comforting hand on your shoulder.

That was four days prior. The morning you woke, you knew today would be the day.

Marcus was due to ride out to the small town to fetch supplies and food while you rested, but you took his hand as a sharp pain erupted in your lower back. His eyes immediately softened with worry, and your eyes met, giving him the faintest nod and smiled small.

“I think it is time to meet our little warrior.” 

The notion seemed so small in comparison to the immense pain you had. It was almost too much, and you kneeled on the birthing stools with Marcus supporting your arm while a midwife supported the other. You sweat so much you thought you would slide out of Marcus’ grasp, tears painting your heated face. 

“You must keep going, my love. You must,” Marcus pleaded, his eyes never leaving yours once, pressing a hand against your cheek. “It will be over soon. It will be alright.”

The medicus, kneeling between your legs, announced the arrival of a head. You whimpered, shaking your head and your eyes squeezed shut tightly, lower lip trembling.

“I cannot. The pain, it is too much- ah!” you cried, and the medicus pleaded for you to push. Marcus’ hand never left your face, and he urged you to look at him,

“My love, mea vita, mea amata, you will survive this. You have survived so much, and you will continue to do so. Now, just give a little more. I know you can. You can do this.” 

Your eyes searched Marcus’ fierce gaze,  and you’d have thought that’s what they looked like while in the throes of battle. You felt terrified, but comforted all the same. Now it was your turn to be the soldier in a battle that could only end in victory- defeat was not an option.

You gave one push, then another, each with a striking cry that made your throat hoarse but Marcus did not waver. Suddenly, the pain and weight ceased, and the midwife looked over your shoulder. 

“Is it-? Are they-?” you slurred, trying to turn your head, and then heard another cry pierce the room, this one similar to yours but so shrill and tiny. But, it was like yours all the same, and Marcus was looking behind you, his eyes shining with tears.

“It’s a girl,” the medicus said, and you let out a strangled sob of relief, hearing your child come to life only inches away from you. Marcus kissed your wet forehead, 

“You have done it, mea vita. She’s beautiful,” Marcus said, and you smiled, closing your eyes in relief. 

Sitting back on the bed, you watched as the medicus handed your bundled up daughter to Marcus, who carried her over to you. She cried and cried, but as Marcus neared you, cooing at her, she seemed to calm. By the time she had settled in your arms, her eyes were wide and staring up at the world, eyes as dark as the night sky, but with a sea of brown, just like Marcus’.

“She is lovely,” Marcus whispered, and you nodded, lower lip trembling. She was so small, but you knew she had the heart of her father. A fighter, strong and capable. You let out a shaky breath,

“Luna,” she whispered, touching her cheek gently, and Marcus leaned his temple against your own as you both gazed at your daughter, who looked back with wonder and curiosity. 

“Our little Luna.”

5 Years Later

You were reclined in the sunning chair outside on the veranda, eyes closed and face to the sun. You sighed, feeling just at peace when a shrill cry jerked you from your slumber. You settled nearly immediately as a rumble of laughter and a fit of giggles followed soon after it.

You sighed, shaking your head and rubbing your forehead, turning to see Marcus coming up the steps with Luna on his shoulders, clutching a small, child-sized bow and a few arrows in the other hand.

“Mama! Look what Papa brought for me!” she cried, though she had excitedly showed you the gift the hour before right when Marcus arrived home to give it to her. You smiled, and nodded, sitting up from the chair.

“I see, my love. Did he teach you how to aim?” you laughed as Marcus set her down and she came running to you. You chided at her to slow down with weapons in hand, giving Marcus a look and he turned his head away to stave off laughter. 

“He did! I can make it very close to the dot! Papa says when I am older, he will teach me how to shoot from Diana’s saddle.” she said, eyes trained on the bow in hand and already trying to notch an arrow. You quickly put a hand over hers,

“Perhaps we save the weapons for outside, yes?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“Pap-pa! Lu-ah.” a small voice gurgled, and Marcus walked over, scooping his son off the rug he had been playing on, blocks, toy boats and wooden horses scattered about.

“I’m sorry, Sol, I promise we did not forget you!” Luna said, looking up at her brother. Marcus laid a kiss on the chubby cheek of the curly haired two year old, and you shook your head, smoothing back Luna’s own dark curls. She walked over to Marcus’ legs, holding up the bow and arrows,

“I can teach you how to shoot, Sol! It is much fun.” She said excitedly, and you stood, shaking your head and put your hands on her shoulders, bending down,

“I think Maia has a treat for you in the kitchen. Something about fresh fruits from the west?” you whispered and Luna began to jump excitedly, already about to break off into a run until you told her to leave the weapons at your side. She did so, but with a pout, and ran into the villa.

“You spoil that child,” you laughed, turning to Marcus as he bounced Sol in his arms gently,

“Only because she is sweet to begin with. Just like her mother.” Marcus chuckled, and leaned down to give you a peck on the lips. You put your hand over the arm that supported Sol, and smiled.

“It is good to have you back,” you said softly. He chuckled, walking with you to the edge of the veranda that overlooked the sea.

“I was only gone for a few weeks, my love.” he reminded you, and you shrugged, looking down as Sol leaned his head on Marcus’ shoulder, sucking on his tiny fingers. You smiled at the child, his dark eyes looking at you with a softness that his father had within his own.

“Still. Feels like ages.” you said, and looked out to the rolling waves in the distance. Even still, high up on the cliff, the salty sea air reached your skin, your nose, your tastebuds. After Luna was born, you had asked Marcus to move your family to the sea, where you wanted to raise your child. It reminded you of home, even if the memory was faint. 

Marcus made it happen without another word.

And then, after three years from Luna’s birth, you welcomed Sol. You and Marcus had yearned for a boy, or at least another healthy child to love, adore, and keep Luna company. When he was born, he was easily the sun in your sky, and Luna was the moon. You had your entire world in the form of two small but feisty children, and Marcus was the entire reason why they were here in the first place.

“I promise, I will not leave for so long next time.” he said, his free hand coming to your waist as your hand came to support Sol’s back.

“Good. I will hold you to that promise, my love.” you said, raising your eyebrows and kissed his lips gently. Sol squirmed between the two of you, and let out a light cry of hunger. You raised your eyebrows, and extended your arms to him. Sol immediately picked up his head, arms flying out to you and you scooped him into your arms with ease.

“I think he likes you more,” Marcus chuckled, putting a hand on your lower back as you turned to walk inside. You looked up at Marcus with a smile as Sol tucked his face into the crook of your neck,

“Don’t speak too soon. You said that about Luna, now look at her. You’ve turned her into one of the fiercest warriors of the land, and she has you wrapped around her finger.” you said, a small, teasing smile on your lips. He kissed your head gently with a smile, and walked with you into the dining area where a spread was waiting for you, Luna standing at the far side of the room with Maia, the head housemaid. Hastily wiping her face, the red still stained Luna’s cheeks anyway as she jogged over to you and Marcus. Marcus caught her in his arms, and picked her up to settle her on his hip. 

“Oh, Mama, it was so good! Maia said Papa brought them, and they were just as good as those fruits that grow in the garden. Maybe we can plant some and make our own!” Luna said, swinging her feet against Marcus’ sides, and you raised your eyebrows. 

“If that is what you want, my love, then we will make it so.” Marcus said, unable to deny his daughter of anything. You smiled, unable to veto the decision by the pure adoration in his eyes as he looked at her. 

“Yes, we will make it so.”

When the children were settled in their beds, (and only after you and Marcus thrilled them with stories of heroes and bravery), you found time to draw a quick, warm bath to ease Marcus after his long journey. He protested it, claiming he wanted to be with you and only you. You chided him, saying he smelled of horses and dirt, and he relented. It took very little convincing to get him to do much of anything these days after Luna and Sol’s births. He was absolutely enamored with his children, and they were the center of his world. Right next to you, of course.

Marcus had taken the sponge to himself with haste, and you shook your head, taking some oils and rubbing them on your hands, walking behind him.

“I see where Luna gets her distaste for the bath from, now.” you laughed, and put your hands on his shoulders that shined with water and scented oils. “Relax, my love. Let me take care of you,” you said, and he sighed as you began to dig your fingers into his shoulders, massaging them gently.

“You take care of so much, mea amata, it is I who should be taking care of you,” he said, wincing at the release of the tension in his muscles. You leaned down your head next to his,

“I think I know of a way you can do that,” you said with a smirk and he tilted his head back and around, capturing your lips in a kiss. 

“Anything you wish, my love. Anything, and more.” he said and you smiled against his lips, pulling away and working at his shoulders.

You laid on your back in the bedchamber, the soft glow of the candles around you offering the only light, save for the moon that shined through the window, bringing in the soft ocean breeze. You were just about to close your eyes when the bed dipped beside you, and Marcus crawled up next to you, laying his body over yours. He reached up and pulled your nightgown out of the way to kiss your chest, then up your neck. You hummed in delight, feeling his hand snake up your leg, then thigh, underneath the gown. 

“I have missed my dearest wife. Thought of you every single moment,” he murmured against your skin. You raised a hand to thread through his hair, and smiled gently.

“Every moment?” you questioned with a teasing lilt. He mumbled something against your neck, and he began to suck there gently, moving on top of you. He lifted your leg to wrap around his waist, and he began to grind his pelvis into yours with a gentleness that was definitely holding back more.

“Mhm. Every moment. Thoughts of you, especially, before Sol’s birth. Gods, the way you were so round and glowing. Made me feel insatiable.” he murmured, kissing up to your jaw. You did remember quite well that he was particularly loving on you when you were still heavily pregnant with Sol, so much that he worshiped you nearly every night like he was at the altar of Venus. Every time you felt displaced, unworthy of his gaze, he rectified it every time by absolutely ravishing you.

And you never complained once. 

His words made your lower stomach tighten, and you sighed, turning your head to bury your nose in his salt and pepper curls, inhaling the scent of oils and Marcus’ essence itself. You smoothed down the wetness, kissing his forehead gently as he continued to lave your neck and jaw, his ministrations against your core unrelenting. You curled your leg around him just a bit more, and you could feel him smirk against your skin.

“My lovely, beautiful wife. Glowing with every bit as she carried our child, our love within her,” he said, and moaned against your skin, his stiff cock brushing against your cunt. You whined gently, and he reached his hand down to push up your dress, finding your core already soaking with slick, sliding a finger in quickly and with ease that made you gasp. “I loved seeing you this way, so full of me and swollen, letting everyone know who you belong to when we would go to town.”

“Marcus,” you whined as he began to pump his finger in and out, and at the sound of his name he slid another finger in. Your hand gripped his shoulder tightly, nails digging into his exposed flesh as your hips bucked into his hand. He finally, finally raised his head to capture your lips in a searing hot kiss. You devoured him with a hunger you had been feeling for weeks, your instincts taking over as you wished for him to take you in any way he wished. “Marcus, please-”

When he removed his fingers to move down your body, you groaned in protest, attempting to grab his hair to pull him back up to you. But, he pushed your dress up higher onto your waist, and looked at your slick core that was on display for him. His amber eyes were alight, and he licked his lips hungrily.

“Gods, I have missed you,” he said breathily, though you weren’t sure if he meant you or your aching cunt. You didn’t have time to ask, for he ducked his head and began to devour your cunt like a man starved of food and sustenance for ages. You leaned your head back on the pillows, eyes screwing shut as he worshiped your folds, then moved to your clit to swirl around it with his tongue. Your thighs stiffened, but his arms came around to hold them still within a moment. He grunted and groaned into your cunt, his tongue doing wonders to soothe the ache between your legs. 

Your hand finally latched onto the curls that were beginning to dry, and you could feel yourself coming to a peak. Marcus knew you so well, that he kept up his pace, giving your clit a good suck. You breathed in and out heavily, mind spinning with desire and lust. 

“I-I missed you- and th-this-” you whispered, and you could feel Marcus smirk against your core. 

“Mhm? Show me, then,” he said as he lifted his head just enough, sliding a finger in to keep up where his tongue had left off. You glanced down at him, his eyes finding yours, clouded over with a passionate hunger and immense adoration. His mouth was shining with slick, evident by the candlelight, and he bent his head down to continue. Your body shuddered, trying to curl in on itself as he licked, sucked, and thrust at your cunt. His hand pressed on your lower stomach, and began to massage it as he gave a particularly loving suck to your clit. And that sent you over the edge. 

You let out a restrained moan, body shivering as you struggled to contain your noises so as to not wake the house or children. Marcus lapped at your come greedily, not pulling away until your body had sufficiently taken what he had to give. 

But, he was not done yet, and neither were you.

You lifted your head just slightly to find Marcus already eye-level with you, giving you a kiss that made your head only clouded further, tasting yourself on his lips. You licked his bottom lip, raising a hand to press against his cheek as you felt his member press against your core that still pulsed for him. 

“When did you disrobe?” you giggled, not remembering him doing so as your hand traveled down his neck to his bare chest where a smatter of grey and brown hair adorned him. He smirked, chuckling lowly,

“When you were still reeling from my worship of you, my love.” 

Your hand continued to move south on the planes of his body, taking in the soft skin littered with scars that had healed over time. Your hand finally found what it was seeking, and wrapped around his hot, stiff member. It immediately twitched in your grasp, and you felt precum drip onto your hand. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, and you began to pump him with a firmness and insistence. He jerked his hips into your touch, the bed shaking just slightly. He intended to make it rock tonight.

“Are you going to take me, Marcus?” you whispered, trying to be sultry, but it came out more as a whine. He shuddered as you gave him a few more pumps before lining him up at your entrance. “Give me everything, Marcus. Please.” 

“Everything?” he questioned, panting into your neck and capturing your lips in a kiss, slowly sliding himself into your weeping cunt. He shuddered, his own breath unsteady as yours sucked in tightly. “And what of you? What if I spilled my seed inside of you again, hm? Would you give me another child? One more?” 

With a slight thrust, your legs came to wrap around him tightly, holding onto his back for dear life. You nodded quickly, giving him a soft but high pitched “yes.” You could feel him chuckle into your neck, and then lifted his head to kiss your lips deeply. His thrusts became more deep, wanton, dragging himself in and out that made your toes curl and your cunt pulse around him incessantly. 

“Gods, Gods, I have missed you,” he murmured, lifting a hand to press against your cheek before using it to support himself as his hips grinded against your own. You opened your mouth against his, your hand moving from his cheek to curl into his hair. You lifted your hips to meet his own, his cock hairs edging your clit on further. Your eyes began to shut in the throes of pleasure,

“No, no, mea amata, I want you to look at me as I come inside you,” he said lowly, and your eyes flew open at a sharp thrust that made you gasp. You could barely nod as his thrusts began to ravage your body, shaking the bed slightly. “I want to see you as I give you another child. To see you like that again, fuck, I-”

Marcus had talked himself into his own orgasm, and you would have laughed had your head not been spinning and your own body reacting to his come that painted your walls white, so much that it seeped out of you and onto the bed. You moaned softly, the sensation causing you to reach your second peak that night, his cock sliding in and out of you until he was spent. He shivered, panting deeply,

“I am sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to waste myself so soon-”

Your body still pulsed, but you let out a shaky laugh, kissing his lips deeply.

“I know you did not, but it’s quite alright,” you said, your breath hitching at another wave of your orgasm still reverberated through you. “To know I still- I still make you feel that way, it is worth it.” 

He stilled as you both came down from your respective highs, and slid out gently. You exhaled sharply, and you felt his fingers push his come back inside of you,

“Do you think this one will be a boy or a girl?” he questioned, his fingers massaging your insides gently and you shuddered, unable to speak. “I suppose it does not matter. We will love them all the same.” he said, and you nodded, your breathing evening out as he slipped his fingers away from inside you, shifting to lay on his side. You turned into his chest, laying a kiss on his collarbone as your hand splayed on his neck. He leaned his chin on your head, his arms enveloping you.

“I hope this one bears fruit. But, I will not stop my efforts, for I-”

“Marcus?” you hummed, and he stilled, and you giggled gently into his chest. You moved your body against his, curling a leg around his waist. He smoothed your hair down on the back of your head gently, and you knew he wanted to say more, but finally steeled himself from doing so. 

“While I do not think you should ever stop, you do not have to worry about this one.” You said, your finger tracing his collarbone lightly. He froze, his hand resting on the back of your head and you lifted it gently to gaze at him. He was already looking down at you, 

“How long have you-?”

“A few weeks. Just after you left, really. I had my suspicions, and the medicus confirmed them.” you said, and couldn’t help but smile at the tears that began to brim in his eyes. He kissed you deeply, his arms wrapping around you as he lifted you closer to his face. 

“I love you,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours. You smiled, and giggled gently,

“I love you, too, my dearest one,” and his hand moved to curve over your stomach, though nothing had shown yet. Still, he cradled it and massaged it gently, like he was already comforting the child.

“I do suppose we should thank Juno for our gifts. She is the reason they are here in the first place,” he chuckled, and you smiled, shaking your head. You did have her to thank, yes. And that first sunset, and that first dance, and the immense effort Marcus took to bring you back to him. 

All of it had brought you your children, a loving husband, and a life you could truly cherish. 

And it all started with the sun, and ended with the moon. You would gaze at the stars as Marcus slept soundly next to you, his hand around you protectively. All you could ever ask for, tucked away on the cliff of a seaside villa. 

And when dawn breaks, you would cherish it all over again. 

Comments, likes, reblogs- anything is appreciated! Divider by @/saradika-graphics!

Thank you for reading. It has been a lovely ride with these two. <3

[axiomsend]

Veilguard in many ways is reductive while being the most directly moralizing of the Dragon Age games, which makes it impossible to play a character with politics, ideas, or morals different from those the game espouses.

The game continuously tries to convince the player that these options do exist, hints at the fact that you will need to make sacrifices in order to win the war against the Evanuris, and ultimately, to stop Solas. But it fails to actually deliver on any of those promises by providing only three major choices, and a handful of minor choices. Not to mention that most of the dialogue options won't allow you to be authoritarian with a sole focus on defeating the Evanuris.

In my mind our three major decisions are:

The City you choose to send other people to defend, resulting in it being Blighted and captured by the villains already vying for power.

The person you choose to lead the other group when attempting to kill Ghilan'nain.

Whether to provide Solas closure & redemption, trick him, or fight him.

My issue with the first decision is that it does not go far enough. In a game that is ostensibly about hard choices, the fact both cities come out of it still standing, even if one survives in very bad shape and under totalitarian rule, doesn't make sense to me. The city you help should barely survive thanks to your presence, and the one you leave others to defend should be blighted and uninhabitable.

Additionally, you should be able to give a reason to your companions, in game, as to why you chose one city and not the other. For example, my Grey Warden Rook chose to help Treviso because they knew Minrathous' history with Blights and thought they might be able to handle it without them. But there are other Rooks who will save Minrathous because they hate The Crows. There are Rooks who will flip a coin and follow its lead. There are Rooks who think Minrathous does not deserve to be saved.

But this game does not, textually, allow Rook that kind of anger. It does allow Rook to say anything at all about the choice, other than that they had to make it, and that they are sorry. The game tells us we must feel bad for not being able to save everyone. But why?

Part of my issue with the second choice lies with Lucanis, and the fact the game does not allow you to dismiss any of your companions. He fails to strike when it counts most, and Rook and the whole team seem understanding if frustrated by it, but are willing to give him a second chance. But why? Because it is the morally right thing to do? Because he needs a shot at redemption?

Those are not good enough reasons for my Rook. But the game does not allow Rook to dismiss him after a catastrophic failure. It insists he remain, despite it being more than reasonable to kick out the guy who had one shot and missed.

Which relates to my real gripe with this choice: you should be able to choose any of your companions to lead the group, resulting in any of their deaths. And they should be the one to strike the final blow, not Lucanis, unless he is the person that is chosen. This, to me, is far more narratively satisfying, and puts the choice back into Rook and the player's hand.

The final decision is the one I feel is the most well done, but I still have issues with it.

The Inquisitor, romanced or not, and Morrigan, should be there in all endings. Morrigan should always help you defeat Solas, and the Inquisitor, based upon decisions they made in the prior game and not solely relying on whether or not they romanced him, should either fight with or against you. If they meet that criteria in the ending where you trick Solas, they should be the final boss. Additionally, the Inquisitor should get to choose whether or not to go with Solas if they have high enough friendship or romance in the redeemed ending.

My frustrations with Veilguard overall are the way it tells you it is doing something, without ever showing you, the severe limitations it imposes on actually roleplaying, and the way it glosses over previously established cultural issues and flaws within its narrative. It reduces the Venatori and Antaam to shells of their former nuanced selves. References to slavery within Tevinter culture are almost entirely removed. The Crows have morphed into an illusion to an Italian Mafia rather than a brutal group of spies who take part in child slavery and kill those who do not live up to their expectations. I cannot be a dalish elf, or a city elf, in a way that at all reflects the culturally distinct upbringings those two groups have. I cannot make Rook into anything more than they already are. I cannot make a Rook that falls outside of what the game deems as acceptable.

This game sanitizes the aspects of Dragon Age that were most interesting to me personally, trying to tie up all lore questions in a nice little bow, in aim to appeal to the widest audience possible. But it fails to do that, because in doing so, it lost the identity that makes it appealing.

I have said this before, and I will say it again: All art is inherently political because art is both a reflection of and the means by which culture is facilitated. And the illusion of choice in this game, the illusion that you can make hard decisions or play a character that's antagonistic or authoritarian, feels very inline with what capitalism presents to those who live under it. The choices we are presented with are a facade. The representation we are given is surface level and largely unsatisfying. We must act, even in our fantasies, in a way that corporations deem acceptable. We must maintain the status quo.

[fawnsmagicalisland]

heyy 🫦 can i request nerd joojoo x bully reader 🔥

hello berry love :) thank you for this ask! <3

warnings: smut, mdni!, sub!ej x dom!reader, sex in public space (restroom), handjob (m receiving), degradation, use of nickname (juju), gn!reader

wc: 639

“s-stop it,” euijoo’s voice came out higher than usual, a fact he’d be embarrassed about if this were any other circumstance. 

you pressed his face closer to the glass with one hand and continued to jerk him off with the other. “don’t whine.”

euijoo stared at your reflection in the mirror through half-lidded eyes, his body quivering under your touch. he let out a strangled moan, using one hand to grab your shirt sleeve. 

“that’s better.” you swiped your thumb over the tip of his dick, gathering the pre-cum. “so leaky today. what’s got you all worked up, juju?” you nipped at the sensitive area of his neck, causing him to whimper. “is it ‘cause you were so excited to tell people about getting your dick wet?”

“n-no.” he bucked his hips as you brought your hand down his shaft. “y/n, please, i d-didn’t mean to.”

“mm, i doubt that. you broke a ground rule. remember? remember the rule?” you asked, placing a light slap against his thigh causing him to jump. he nodded frantically and you sighed with disappointment. “say it.” 

“‘d-don’t tell anyone–mmph–about u-us.” euijoo’s voice came out a bit shaky, his whole body shivering under your touch. you had just started, but he was already so sensitive. 

“that’s right. and what’d you do?”

“i’m sorry.” the words came out as a plea, but you were having none of it.

“no, but you will be. fucking slut. look at yourself.”

euijoo immediately looked up, his cheeks flushing with shame as he stared at his half-naked body compared to you being fully clothed. he bit his lip, the skin raw. “p-please, y/n. i’ve been so good… need to cum.” 

“fine.” 

“wait, really?” euijoo’s momentary hope was extinguished when he saw the dark look in your eyes and you slowly nodded.

“oh, sure.” you let go of his dick and stepped back. “might wanna get to work.” 

“n-no, y/n, please i need you.”

“too bad. you need to learn your lesson.” you leaned against one of the stalls, making eye contact with euijoo’s reflection. “you never even stopped to think how you could affect my reputation. not that it entirely matters, though. nobody could ever believe a loser like you would be fucked by me.” 

humiliated, euijoo’s eyes burned with the threat of tears as he wrapped a hand around his cock. “i-it won’t happen again.” 

“oh, i know it won’t. after all, you do like being good for me. don’t you?”

euijoo nodded, rubbing his dick that was now an angry red. his gaze was fully on your reflection behind him, his eyes occasionally squeezing shut from the pleasure. “i’m close…” 

“already? are you really getting off on all of this?” you approached him from behind to grab a handful of his hair. he hissed with the sudden sharp pain but continued looking at your reflection. “very well. give me a good show, juju. let me see you cum.” 

after a few more pumps of his dick, spurts of cum shot out as he moaned. he kept jerking himself off as he came, specs of cum hitting the cold glass of the restroom mirror. after a few moments, you let go of his hair and he blinked several times to bring your reflection back into focus. “need you, y/n… please?”

“you’ve already cum. what more could you want?” 

“i apologized.” he said weakly as his dick started getting hard again. “you always make me feel so good…” 

you scoffed and rolled your eyes, heading for the restroom door. you unlocked it before turning back toward him. “don’t do that again, or next time you won’t get to cum at all.”

“y/n–” before euijoo could finish his plea, you pushed open the door and exited the restroom, leaving him alone with another throbbing hard-on.

a/n: lowkey rlly struggled w this for some reason 😭 hope you enjoyed, berry <3

[heph]

I never cared abt House but your art was the last push for me to see House and I get it. I finally get the obsession with Hilson. I cannot stop reading fanfic of this two old men

LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

[thedreadvampy]

every so often I discover new things I'm unhappy with about the Sandman adaptation and each one is pettier than the last

what do you MEAN the word battle is between Dream and Lucifer? no it's NOT. it's between Dream and Choronzon who's acting on Beelzebub's behalf it's about the petty politics of Hell which is in large part what Lucifer finds so tiresome.

also why does Dream have human eyes give that bitch some contacts or Something

[surpriserose]

Heard scavengers reign got canceled but moving networks and i gotta say like...this is not a show that needed a season 2 why was there a production to be canceled? Like some shows should just end and this is one of them sorry and im saying that because i loved it

[violentdevotion]

if u see me watchmen oc posting no u didnt

my eyes are closed. so long as you can forgive me in 2 days when i stop posting about watchmen and start incessantly posting about something else

[brownbitchshit]

I currently have 700+ followers. And I will urge all of you to read about what is happening in Bangladesh. What has happened in Bangladesh. I am adding irrelevant tags of the fandoms I follow to garner more attention. I apologize in advance.

The government of Bangladesh killed pressumably 950+ people, innocent people, students, all because they demanded a system that will give them government jobs based on merit rather than quota. To suppress the students Sheikh Hasina and its government imposed 5 days of total internet blackout. While imposing this blackout they killed off anyone of the streets. They killed people from helicopters by shooting and throwing grenades. Many kids died in their own homes as the bullet shot them through their window.

Sheikh Hasina and its police took away all the dead bodies and the death registries from the hospital. The official death toll is 200. But various journalistic and medical staff sources confirm the death toll is over 950 in Dhaka alone.

That monster of a PM didn't acknowledge the death of the students. Instead she is crying over the infrastructure vandalism. I request you,rise up and speak out about this. Educate yourself and let other people know. The internet blackout have suppressed the truth at large. The Bangladeshi people are in deep surveillance and the government have made 2000+ arrests on false charges just because they have shared the Information. There is mass fear mongering. I know most of you people are not Bangladeshis and that's why you need to help us and speak up about it. Join your local protests, share the news in your social media, twitter Instagram. I beg you, don't let my people's murderers get away with it. Don't let my people's death be forgotten.

I am attaching some links for you to understand the horror of it all.

This Facebook page Bringing justice to you has documented all the horrors and the massacres that happened on Bangladeshi people. TW : all kinds of blood, gore, death bodies, every single horrible things imaginable but shows what went down.

This ig page is also another page that brings you the horror stories.

https://www.instagram.com/thebangladeshivoice?igsh=YXBpdzQyem54cmZj

Al-Jazeera has been a very credible news source while the Bangladesh was under blackout. They have made several segments. I am attaching the latest one.

UN Human Rights have called out Bangladesh for explanation regarding the crackdown

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A post shared by United Nations Human Rights (@unitednationshumanrights)

Amnesty International's report of Bangladesh government using lethal weapon against its people and mass murder

There are many more contents, proof and videos to show you the horrors that was unfolded in the crackdown. Sheikh Hasina killed her people like insects and violated every single human rights imaginable. Please share these. Support us. Help us. I beg you all.

[heartswithinreach]

Sitting on LaDS lap

Xavier

Physical contact is nothing new for you two. You trust Xavier with your life on the battlefield and when you're fighting the evening commute.

The train is packed on your way home after fighting Wanderers all day but Xavier doesn't notice until he sits down and realizes the person sitting next to him isn't his partner.

But before he can give up his seat for you, you're sitting across his lap and resting your head on his shoulder. He watches you settle, amused and flustered by your boldness to do something like this in public.

"I don't think this is allowed for safety." He says gently, not wanting to wake you. "But if you're that tired..."

Xavier holds you close, making sure you don't fall off his lap from the movement of the train, and peacefully dozes with you until you're home.

Rafayel

“You’re supposed to be my bodyguard — why aren’t I sitting on your lap?”

Rafayel pouts mostly for show and so he doesn’t come across as too eager. He’s barely holding back from squeezing you in a tight hug, he didn’t expect you to be so soft.

But he also didn’t expect what he said would make you self conscious. Rafayel quickly pulls you back down when you try to get off of him, wrapping his arms around your middle, making sure you stay put.

“Relax, cutie. I was just joking. You can stay for as long as you want.”

But he will expect you to return the favor whenever he wants in the future. Especially if it’s at an event and he wants to rub your relationship in other peoples’ faces.

Zayne

His reaction depends on where you are and what the situation is.

If you sit on his lap while waiting to be seated at a restaurant, he’ll be unimpressed by the PDA but allow it so you’re both not sore from standing.

In the privacy of his or your apartment, you’re welcome to do whatever you like.

Every time you come near him in the early evening while he’s reading a book, he secretly hopes you’ll curl up on his lap. Your warmth is just the balm he needs after his shift at the hospital.

Zayne always worries about his evol in the back of his mind. What if his body temperature is too low and being so close is unpleasant for you? The only thing that’ll stop him from fretting and relax is if you play with his hair.

Sylus

Your ass hasn’t touched an actual chair in this man’s presence since you made your relationship official.

The first time you tried, he stopped reading his intel to ask, “What are you doing all the way over there, sweetie?” and patted his thigh. It couldn’t have been more obvious what he wanted.

Won’t stand for any “I’m too heavy” nonsense. He’s genuinely offended when you say that. Have you seen his physique? He waits until you’ve decided to give it a shot and then he's manhandling you onto his lap.

Pavlov dogs you into this routine until one day you just sit on his lap, completely unprompted, and he gives you the most infuriating, self-satisfied grin when you realize what you’ve done.

He’s won this small victory and he won’t let you forget it.

[whytheylosttheirminds]

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

❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️

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

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

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

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

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

You: what’s up?

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

You: does he live near us?

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

You: yeah then i guess that’s cool!!

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

Brodyyy <3: cookie day?

You: exactly, u get me

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

You: np!

You: what’s his name btw?

Brodyyy <3: …

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

Brodyyy <3: rafe

You: be so fr rn

You: as in cameron???

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

Hour one

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” you said dryly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time to bring it home, he thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hour two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? Like who?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Gaslit? Me? You’re crazy…” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like you know me at all.”

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

“Oh have you?” Your eyebrows shot up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hour three

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

Rafe snored. Loudly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm?”

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

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

“Try me,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Why?” you asked.

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

Hour four

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, you pimping your ride?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What kind of animal was -”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that a yes?” he continued. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Watch out!” You shrieked suddenly.

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

“Fuck!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, a little privacy please?” 

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

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

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

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

Hour five

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

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

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

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

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

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

----❄----

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

“How much was it?” You asked.

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

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

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

Rafe looked in the bag with a confused grin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t.

“Does your family have any traditions?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost immediately, he missed the sound of your voice. 

Hour six

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

Hour seven

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

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

“Oh my god!!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I said I’d get you to the ferry…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled.

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

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

----❄----

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

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

“What is it?” He questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled softly, giving him a grateful nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----❄----

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

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

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

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

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

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

----❄----

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

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

“You owe me a cookie.”

(part two)

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

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

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