#no he in fact does not know how to speak it

[lizziesangel]

can you do another one shot of introverted reader and extroverted qb Rafe and he just follows her around and still crushes on her and then he like asks her out or something you can make this in your own way

finally part two!! ⟢ part one

as the self-defense unit wraps up, you and lana grab your things and head toward the locker rooms. the air between you is lighter now, the drills and awkward encounters behind you—for the moment, at least. lana nudges you with her shoulder, her mischievous grin already in place.

“did you see what happened to jason in the middle of class?” she asks, barely containing her laughter. “i mean, secondhand embarrassment doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

you stifle a laugh, glancing over at her. “what did he think was going to happen? asking mia out in the middle of the drills? who even does that?”

lana throws her hands up dramatically. “exactly! like, dude, we’re learning how to escape a chokehold, and he’s over here trying to escape the friend zone. bad timing, jason. bad. timing.”

you snort, unable to hold back your amusement. “and then mia’s face? she looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole.”

“she didn’t even say anything! she just shook her head and walked away!” lana cackles, practically doubling over as she recalls the moment. “poor guy stood there for a solid ten seconds, looking like he’d just been hit by a bus.”

“it was funny,” you admit, “but also kind of sad. like, imagine building up all that courage just to get publicly rejected.”

lana shakes her head, still giggling. “i mean, yeah, i felt bad for him. for, like, half a second. but you have to admit, it was iconic. mia didn’t even blink.”

you laugh, the image replaying in your mind, but then lana’s smirk takes on a different edge. she gives you a sly look, and you immediately know you’re in trouble.

“speaking of moments,” she begins, dragging out the words, “what’s going on with you and rafe cameron?”

your laughter dies in your throat, replaced by a groan. “oh my gosh, lana. nothing is going on.”

“nothing?” she echoes, raising an eyebrow. “girl, he was staring at you like you were the answer to all of life’s questions. and don’t even try to deny it—i saw it.”

you roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. “he wasn’t staring. he was just… focused on the drill.”

“focused on you,” she corrects, wagging a finger at you. “i mean, i can’t blame him. you two looked like the cover of some YA romance novel over there, all wrist grabs and lingering eye contact.”

“lana, oh my gosh, stop.” you shove her lightly, your face burning. “it’s not like that.”

“oh, but you wish it was?” she teases, wiggling her eyebrows.

“no!” you insist, laughing despite yourself. “you’re so annoying.”

lana grins triumphantly, but before she can press further, you narrow your eyes and shift the spotlight. “okay, let’s talk about you and topper, then.”

her smug expression falters. “what about me and topper?” she asks, feigning innocence.

you mimic her earlier teasing tone. “oh, nothing. just that you were blushing a lot while you two were partnered up. and don’t even try to deny it—i saw it.”

“i was not blushing,” she huffs, but her face betrays her, turning pink at the accusation.

“you so were!” you shoot back, laughing. “and don’t think i didn’t notice how he kept leaning in to talk to you, all ‘are you okay? is my grip too tight?’”

“okay, first of all, he was just being polite,” lana retorts, crossing her arms. “second of all, you��re deflecting.”

“am i, though?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow. “because it sounds to me like someone has a little crush.”

lana groans, throwing her head back dramatically. “fine! whatever! he’s cute, okay? but he’s also topper thornton, which means he’s probably, like, ninety percent annoying and ten percent tolerable.”

you smirk. “sounds like someone’s trying to justify their feelings.”

“and it sounds like someone’s avoiding the fact that rafe cameron was basically undressing them with his eyes,” she fires back.

the two of you dissolve into laughter, your playful banter echoing down the hallway. for all the awkwardness of the class, you can’t help but feel grateful for moments like this—light, ridiculous, and completely you.

it’s been a week since the self-defense class, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about rafe cameron since then. not that you’d admit it to lana.

she’d never let you hear the end of it. right now, though, you’re trying to focus on your spanish class, scribbling notes as señor martinez drones on about verb conjugations. lana is sitting to your left, doodling absentmindedly in her notebook, while rafe is on your right, leaning back in his chair with a bored expression that says he’d rather be anywhere else.

you try not to notice how close he’s sitting. or how his cologne lingers faintly in the air. definitely not noticing.

“señor cameron,” señor martinez suddenly says, breaking through the hum of your thoughts. you glance up to see the older man staring pointedly at rafe, his thick-rimmed glasses slipping down his nose. “por favor, conteste esta pregunta. ¿cómo se dice, ‘i like to play football’ en español?”

rafe blinks, his posture straightening slightly. you can tell from the way his brow furrows that he has no idea what the answer is. he shifts in his seat, his gaze darting toward you briefly before landing back on the teacher.

“uh…” he starts, clearly stalling. “yo… gusta… uh…”

you glance at him out of the corner of your eye, trying not to laugh at his obvious struggle. he looks genuinely panicked now, scratching the back of his neck like it’ll somehow help him come up with the right words.

without thinking, you lean slightly toward him and scribble on the edge of your notebook: me gusta jugar al fútbol.

sliding the notebook closer to him with your left hand, you tap the words lightly with your pen before sitting back, acting like nothing happened. rafe’s eyes dart to the paper, and then to you. he catches on quickly, his lips twitching into a small, grateful smile.

“me gusta jugar al fútbol,” he repeats, his pronunciation a little off but passable. he looks up at señor martinez, who nods approvingly.

“muy bien, señor cameron,” the teacher says before moving on to the next victim in his line of questioning.

rafe exhales quietly, and you feel his shoulder brush yours as he leans closer, whispering just loud enough for you to hear. “thanks. i owe you one.”

you shrug, keeping your eyes on your notebook. “you’ll survive.”

“yeah, because of you,” he says, his tone teasing but sincere. you can feel his gaze lingering on you, and your cheeks warm involuntarily.

lana, who has been unusually quiet, suddenly clears her throat dramatically. “i see you two are getting along nicely,” she whispers, her voice dripping with mock innocence.

you nudge her under the desk with your foot, shooting her a warning look. “focus, lana.”

“oh, i am,” she replies with a grin, glancing pointedly between you and rafe.

you and lana walk out of spanish class, your bags slung over your shoulders as you weave through the bustling hallway. the faint smell of old textbooks and cleaning supplies lingers in the air, blending with the hum of chatter from other students.

“so,” lana says, adjusting the strap of her bag and glancing at you, “are we pretending that señor martinez’s lecture didn’t put the entire class to sleep?”

you snort. “you mean only you? i saw you zoning out halfway through.”

“hey, i was conserving my energy,” she defends, holding up her hands. “that conjugation nonsense was not giving what it needed to give.”

you laugh softly, shaking your head as the two of you make your way toward your lockers. the conversation shifts to weekend plans, lana animatedly describing some pop-up event she wants to drag you to, when someone passes by on your right.

it’s him.

“hey,” he says, his voice breaking through your conversation like a gentle ripple. he’s walking just slow enough to catch your attention without completely stopping. “thanks for earlier. you saved me with that spanish sentence.”

he flashes you a smile—not the usual cocky smirk you’ve seen him give other people, but something softer, genuine. the kind that makes your chest tighten unexpectedly.

“oh, uh, no problem,” you manage to say, your voice steady despite the warmth creeping up your neck.

he gives a small nod, the corners of his mouth tugging upward just a little more, and then continues walking past you, blending into the crowd.

lana waits until he’s out of earshot before turning to you, her eyebrows raised and her grin positively devious. “okay. what was that?”

you roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. “he was just saying thank you.”

“mmm, sure,” she says, drawing out the words. “because guys like rafe cameron totally go out of their way to say thank you for help in class.”

“it’s called being polite,” you counter, though your voice wavers slightly, betraying your attempt at indifference.

“polite?” lana mimics, her voice dripping with mockery. “girl, he smiled at you like you just solved all his problems. that was not polite; that was something else.”

you shake your head, biting back a smile. “you’re ridiculous.”

“am i?” she teases, bumping her shoulder into yours. “or am i just really good at spotting crush vibes when i see them?”

you groan, quickening your pace to escape her relentless teasing, but the fluttery feeling in your chest doesn’t go away.

a few days rolls by, and it’s time for PE again. the memory of last week’s self-defense unit still lingers in your mind, though you’ve done your best to push it aside. unfortunately, lana hasn’t let you live it down.

“back to the battlefield,” she says dramatically as you walk into the gym together, her water bottle swinging in her hand. “do you think coach davis will make us pair up the same way as last time?”

you glance at her, trying to gauge whether she’s genuinely curious or just looking for an opportunity to tease you again. “i don’t know,” you reply, keeping your tone casual. “probably. he seems like a ‘stick to the plan’ kind of guy.”

lana smirks, nudging you lightly. “good news for you, then.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, feigning innocence as you open your water bottle and take a sip.

“oh, nothing,” she replies with a sly grin. “just that a certain quarterback might be looking forward to this more than you think.”

“ooh, look,” lana adds in a whisper, nudging you with her elbow as you make your way toward your spot. “there’s your favorite partner.”

you glance over instinctively and spot rafe standing with the rest of the football team. he’s tossing a basketball between his hands, chatting with topper and a couple of others, looking relaxed and completely at ease.

you try not to linger too long, but as if sensing your gaze, he looks up and meets your eyes. his lips curve into a small, knowing smile, and you quickly look away, your heart doing an unintentional somersault.

“stop it,” you mutter to lana, who’s practically vibrating with excitement at your reaction.

“i’m not even doing anything,” she says innocently, though the smug look on her face says otherwise.

you roll your eyes, but before you can fire back, coach davis claps his hands together, gathering the class’s attention.

“alright, folks!” he booms. “we’re picking up where we left off last week. same pairs, same drills, new moves.”

lana shoots you a triumphant look, barely able to contain her laugh. “told you.”

“shut up,” you mutter under your breath, your cheeks already warming as you glance toward the corner of the gym. sure enough, there’s rafe, standing with the other football players, tossing a basketball between his hands and looking entirely unbothered by the world around him.

when your name is called, followed by rafe’s, you take a deep breath and start walking toward him, feeling Lana’s smug gaze on your back the entire way.

“guess it’s us again,” he says, stopping in front of you. his tone is casual, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

“lucky me,” you reply, trying to sound neutral as you set your water bottle on the floor, though your voice comes out a little more sarcastic than you intended.

he chuckles, his hands resting lightly on his hips. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

“ready for round two?” he asks, his tone teasing but warm. there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—maybe amusement, maybe anticipation—but you don’t dwell on it for long.

“i’m ready if you are,” you reply, trying to match his confidence.

this week’s drills involve more complex moves—blocking, evading, and redirecting. rafe listens to coach davis’s explanation but keeps sneaking glances at you, like he’s more interested in your reaction than the actual instructions. you catch him once, and he quickly looks away, scratching the back of his neck with a sheepish grin.

when it’s time to practice, rafe takes his position in front of you, his hands raised slightly. “alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

you narrow your eyes playfully. “don’t go easy on me.”

his grin widens. “wouldn’t dream of it.”

the first few attempts are clumsy, just like last week, but this time, there’s an unspoken ease between you. the tension feels lighter, replaced by a strange sort of rhythm. when you stumble on one of the blocks, rafe catches your arm instinctively, steadying you without a second thought.

“you okay?” he asks, his voice soft.

“yeah,” you reply quickly, brushing it off. “just lost my balance.”

“good thing i’m here, then,” he says, his grin returning. he’s teasing, but there’s a sincerity in his tone that makes your stomach flip.

as the drill continues, you notice how his confidence contrasts with the careful way he moves around you, never pushing too hard, always adjusting to your pace. it’s almost… considerate. by the end of the session, you’re both slightly out of breath, your cheeks flushed—not just from the exercise.

rafe is surprisingly focused, following coach’s instructions and helping you figure out the movements without making it awkward—well, mostly. he adjusts his stance a couple of times, his hands hovering near your arms to guide you, but he never oversteps, which you appreciate.

“alright, now try shifting your weight forward,” he says, watching as you attempt to push him off balance.

you give it your best shot, planting your feet and leaning into the motion, but he barely moves, his footing solid.

“okay, not bad,” he says, grinning. “but maybe try using a little more…” he pauses, clearly searching for the right word.

“force?” you supply, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah, that.” he nods, his grin widening. “don’t be afraid to go for it.”

you try again, this time putting more effort into the movement. to your surprise, he actually stumbles back a step, his expression shifting to mock surprise.

“whoa—okay,” he says, holding up his hands in surrender. “you’ve got some hidden strength there.”

you laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “yeah, sure. i’m terrifying.”

“hey, i’m just saying,” he replies, his tone teasing. “remind me not to mess with you.”

lana, paired with topper a few feet away, catches the exchange and immediately starts making faces at you behind rafe’s back. you shoot her a glare, mouthing stop while trying not to laugh.

“what’s so funny?” rafe asks, glancing between you and lana.

“nothing,” you say quickly, straightening up and avoiding his gaze.

laa smirks, her voice carrying just enough for you to hear. “oh, it’s definitely something.”

you groan inwardly, already dreading whatever teasing lana has planned for later. for now, though, you focus on the drill, pretending not to notice the way rafe’s smile lingers just a little

the end of class rolls around, and as everyone starts clearing up and heading toward the locker rooms, rafe lingers near you, casually adjusting the strap of his gym bag. lana notices, of course, and shoots you a knowing look before wandering off toward the door with topper trailing behind her.

you sling your water bottle over your shoulder, about to follow, when rafe steps a little closer. “hey,” he says, his tone casual but with just a hint of hesitation.

“hi,” you reply, glancing up at him curiously.

“so, uh…” he rubs the back of his neck, his usual confidence slipping for just a moment. “are you going to the game tonight?”

you blink, caught a little off guard. “the football game?”

“yeah,” he gives a short laugh, as if there’s any other game he could be talking about. “i mean, it’s kind of a big one. with a rival school and all that.”

you chew on your lip, considering. “ah, i don’t know. i haven’t really thought about it.”

“oh, come on,” he says, a teasing edge creeping into his tone. “i’m playing tonight.”

“i know,” you say with a faint laugh. “you’re the captain.”

there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—maybe amusement, maybe something else entirely. “right. so… you’ll come?”

before you can answer, lana reappears, practically materializing out of thin air. “we’ll be there!” she announces brightly, cutting off whatever excuse you were about to come up with.

your head snaps toward her, eyes wide. “we will?”

“yeah,” lana says, completely unbothered by your subtle glare. “wouldn’t miss it.”

rafe’s grin widens, his gaze flickering between you and lana. “great. see you tonight, then.”

just as you’re about to protest—or at least question why lana is suddenly speaking for you—topper walks by, overhearing the last bit of the conversation. he stops, turning to lana with a raised eyebrow.

“you’re going to the game?” he asks, his tone curious but laced with something else, something like amusement.

lana tilts her head at him, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. “why? you don’t want me there?”

topper stares at her for a second, then shakes his head, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half-smile. “no, i didn’t say that.”

“good,” lana replies breezily, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “because we’ll be there.”

topper blinks, momentarily at a loss for words, before recovering with a lopsided grin. “cool. yeah. that’s… cool.”

you glance between them, unsure whether to roll your eyes or laugh. meanwhile, rafe is still standing next to you, watching the whole exchange unfold with an amused look on his face.

“see you tonight,” rafe says again, this time directing it more toward you. his voice is quieter, as if it’s just for you, and there’s something in his tone that makes your stomach flip.

“yeah,” you manage, your voice a little softer than you intended. “see you.”

rafe’s grin widens, his eyes lighting up in a way that makes your chest tighten. “great. see you then.”

as he walks away with topper, lana nudges you with her elbow, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“you’re welcome,” she says, grinning.

“oh my gosh, did you see the way he was looking at you? you’re so going to that game.”

“lana,” you groan, but she’s already steering you toward the door, topper trailing behind like a lost puppy.

“oh, and topper?” lana calls over her shoulder. “you’d better actually play well tonight if i’m showing up.”

topper laughs, running a hand through his hair. “don’t worry, i’ll make it worth your while.”

“you’re welcome, by the way,” she says, grinning.

“for what?” you ask, even though you already know where this is going.

“getting us prime seats to watch your boy play tonight,” she teases.

you groan, shaking your head. “he’s not my—”

“oh, save it,” she interrupts, laughing. “i’m just saying, this is gonna be very entertaining.”

you shoot lana a look, but she just grins, completely unfazed. “you realize your boy is going to be there as well.”

“ahhh, this is going to be so much fun,” she says, and for some reason, you can’t help but smile too.

you and lana are in her room, sorting through her closet to find something suitable for the football game. clothes are strewn across her bed, some tossed on the floor, and lana is holding up a navy sweater against herself in the mirror.

“what about this? casual but cute, right?” she asks, turning to you.

“it’s cute,” you say, trying not to laugh at the chaos around you. “but are we really dressing up for a football game?”

lana shoots you a look. “first of all, yes. second of all, you need to look extra cute. for a special reason.”

lana holds up a cropped sweater, frowning. “do i go with this? or the green one with the little buttons?”

“the green one,” you say without hesitation. “it makes your eyes pop.”

she nods thoughtfully, tossing the sweater onto a growing pile of rejected options. “okay, green it is. what about you? you can’t just show up in your usual jeans and hoodie. this is a game. there’s a whole vibe.”

before you can respond, lana’s younger sister amalia bursts into the room, a bundle of energy as always. she’s clutching a bowl of popcorn, her hair in a loose braid. at fifteen, she has that untamed curiosity that makes her impossible to ignore.

“what’s going on in here?” amalia asks, plopping down on the floor and grabbing one of lana’s discarded sneakers.

“getting ready for the game,” lana says, tossing the sweater onto the bed and grabbing a scarf.

amalia plops onto the corner of the bed, narrowly avoiding a pile of jeans. “so, like… are you going because you actually care about football, like, someone specific?”

“amalia!” you gasp, laughing, while lana groans.

“obviously, we’re going for the game,” lana says, dragging out the last word like it’s painfully obvious.

“sure you are,” amalia says, smirking. she looks at you. “so, which is it? topper or rafe?”

both lana and you freeze mid-motion, slowly turning to look at her. “what?” you say in unison, your voices dripping with confusion and maybe a hint of panic.

“oh my god, it is true.” amalia’s eyes widen, her tone full of mock scandal. “i mean, i heard you talking on the phone,” she says nonchalantly, taking a bite of her granola bar.

lana’s face contorts into a mix of horror and disbelief. “you were eavesdropping?”

“no!” amalia says defensively, though her grin betrays her. “i just walked past your room, and i heard you say something about rafe. or was it topper? honestly, you were talking so fast, i couldn’t tell.”

“besides, we have thin walls. i can hear every conversation you have.”

you bury your face in your hands while lana groans loudly, tossing a sweatshirt at the younger sister. “you’re the absolute worst, you know that?”

she giggles, dodging the sweatshirt. “what? i’m just curious! so, which one is it? rafe or topper?”

“neither,” you say quickly, trying to sound as calm as possible. “we’re just going because… we have nothing better to do.”

amalia doesn’t look convinced, her eyes darting between the two of you like she’s trying to crack a code. “uh-huh. sure.”

you bury your face in your hands. “can we not do this right now?”

“oh, come on,” she says, grinning. “i have to live vicariously through you guys. my life is so boring.”

her older sister snickers. “you’re fifteen, amalia. you’re supposed to have a boring life.”

amalia rolls her eyes. “whatever. you’re lucky mom and dad aren’t here, or they’d totally make me go with you guys.”

lana points to the door, her tone firm. “okay, get out. now. before i tell mom you stole her granola bars again.”

amalia gasps dramatically, clutching the half-eaten bar to her chest. “you wouldn’t.”

with a huff, amalia stands and heads for the door, but not before throwing one last grin over her shoulder. “fine, but if you don’t tell me what happens tonight, i’m stealing your makeup.”

“go away, amalia!” lana yells, and the door slams shut behind her.

“you’re such a snitch,” could be heard from the other side of the door.

as the silence settles, you and lana exchange a look, and then burst into laughter.

“she’s impossible,” you say, shaking your head.

lana smirks, reaching for her eyeliner. “she’s also not wrong about you and rafe, though.”

you grab a pillow and throw it at her. “shut up!”

the stadium lights flood the field as you and lana make your way to the bleachers. the energy in the air is palpable, the crowd buzzing with excitement as the game is set to begin. the school colors are everywhere—navy and red banners, painted faces, and a sea of matching shirts.

lana’s decked out in navy, her outfit effortlessly stylish, while you’re in red, wearing your school hoodie with pride. she loops her arm through yours as you weave through the crowd.

“this is so chaotic,” lana says, laughing as you dodge a group of cheerleaders running toward the sidelines.

“you’re the one who wanted to come early,” you tease.

“early means we get good seats,” she replies, tugging you along.

as you near the edge of the bleachers, a familiar figure catches your eye. rafe is standing by the fence near the field, already in his uniform, looking every bit the golden boy quarterback he is. his helmet is tucked under one arm, and he’s talking to a teammate, but the moment he spots you, his face lights up.

he steps away, jogging over. “hey!”

“hi,” you reply, a little breathless from the crowd.

“i, uh, saved you and lana some seats,” he says, gesturing toward a spot near the middle of the bleachers, right in prime view of the field.

“oh, thanks!” you say, genuinely surprised and a little touched.

“of course,” he says casually, but there’s a flicker of something in his tone that makes your stomach flip.

meanwhile, lana has already found her focus—topper is lingering a few steps away, looking effortlessly cool in his jersey. she doesn’t waste any time sidling up to him, her voice light and playful as she says, “topper, is this your game face, or do you always look this serious?”

topper smirks, tilting his head at her. “you tell me. think it’s intimidating enough?”

“intimidating? not quite,” she teases, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

you glance at her, rolling your eyes slightly but smiling. she’s clearly in her element, and for a moment, you’re distracted by their banter.

“hey,” rafe says, drawing your attention back to him.

you look up at him, his expression softer now. “yeah?”

“so, i was thinking…” he starts, trailing off for just a second before giving you a teasing look.

you arch an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer. “really? you were thinking?”

his grin deepens, and he nudges your arm lightly with his elbow. “yeah, shut up. i was thinking…” he pauses again, this time looking a little nervous, though he hides it well. “if i win this game tonight, would you… wanna go out with me?”

you blink, caught completely off guard. his words hang in the air for a moment, and you can’t help the way your lips curve into a smile.

“seriously?” you ask, your voice soft but full of amusement.

“dead serious,” he replies, his eyes locked on yours, a mix of confidence and vulnerability in his expression.

your smile widens, warmth blooming in your chest. “well… i guess i’ll have to cheer extra loud, then.”

his grin stretches across his face, brighter than you’ve ever seen it. “i’ll hold you to that.”

before you can say anything else, lana suddenly appears at your side, her cheeks slightly pink from talking to topper. “come on, we need to grab those seats before someone else does.”

rafe nods, stepping back but keeping his eyes on you. “i’ll see you after the game?”

you nod, your heart still racing. “good luck, captain.”

“thanks,” he says, his voice warm, before jogging back toward his team.

as you and lana make your way to the bleachers, she nudges you with her elbow, her grin mischievous. “sooo… what was that about?”

you shrug, trying to play it cool, but the smile tugging at your lips gives you away.

“uh-huh,” she says, her tone dripping with satisfaction. “you’re so coming to every game from now on.”

you laugh, feeling a little giddy. maybe you just might.

the game has been intense, and the crowd is on edge. the scoreboard has been a back-and-forth battle, but now, as the clock winds down, rafe's team is trailing by just a few points. the stands are buzzing with nervous energy as the players huddle on the field.

you’re perched on the edge of your seat, your eyes glued to rafe, who is looking more focused than ever. he’s been carrying the weight of the game ever since their second best star player was taken out with an injury. it’s clear that he’s frustrated, his jaw clenched as he scans the field, but there’s something else in his eyes: determination.

topper stands beside him, clearly trying to keep up with the intensity, but it’s hard not to notice that rafe’s doing most of the work. he’s calling the plays, directing the team, and every move he makes looks calculated—almost like he’s pushing his limits, but you can see in the way he carries himself that he’s not going to give up.

the clock is ticking down, seconds slipping away like sand in an hourglass.

“come on, come on!” lana mutters beside you, her voice almost lost in the roar of the crowd. you glance at her, her eyes fixed on rafe and topper, and then at the field. the tension is so thick you could almost cut it with a knife.

rafe takes the ball, his eyes scanning for an opening. he’s got no choice now; it’s all on him. he fakes a pass to topper, sending the defenders rushing toward him, then in one swift motion, he dodges a tackle and charges down the field. the crowd rises to its feet, the energy growing with every step rafe takes.

you can’t help but hold your breath as you watch him break through the last line of defense, topper sprinting beside him, staying just close enough to act as backup. rafe’s legs move like they’re made of steel, his eyes locked on the end zone.

with seconds left on the clock, he passes the ball to topper, who’s just a few yards from the end zone. topper catches it and pivots, leaping into the air just as a defender tries to block him. time seems to slow as the ball arcs through the air and lands perfectly in topper’s hands. the crowd erupts as he crosses the goal line, securing the game-winning touchdown.

you can barely hear yourself think over the deafening roar of the crowd. you jump up with lana, both of you screaming and clapping in excitement. rafe’s face lights up as the team floods onto the field to congratulate topper, but he’s still scanning the crowd for someone.

you catch his eye, and for a split second, everything else fades away. his grin is wide, the exhaustion and tension melting off his face, replaced by sheer triumph.

“looks like you’ll be getting that date after all,” lana says, her voice full of teasing as she nudges you, but you barely hear her. all you can focus on is rafe’s smile, the way he’s looking at you from across the field.

you can feel your heart skip a beat as the final whistle blows. the game is over, and against all odds, rafe’s team pulled through.

lana cheers next to you, but you’re still staring at rafe, a grin tugging at the corner of your lips. he winks at you, the energy of the win still buzzing in his movements.

it’s official: rafe cameron just won the game—and, if you’re being honest, you think he just might’ve won a little bit of your heart too, especially when he was looking right at you after winning the game.

MASTERLIST

CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚｡⋆

@maybankslover ⟢ @honeyluvsatj ⟢ @zazidot ⟢ @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 ⟢ @lunaleah ⟢ @maybanksangel ⟢ @wtfdudesblog. ⟢ @niktwazny303. ⟢ @outerbanksloverp4l ⟢ @slut4you ⟢ @maybanksgirl69 ⟢ @hstbsl06 ⟢ @percysley

[goldsbitch]

Kiss with a fist

To his twins, the world is ending. To Lando, it’s another exhausting reminder that parenting might actually be harder than racing.

or - No boys allowed near the girls from now on, especially not his rivals' son.

warning: dad! Lando, none, fun, domestic 3k word count stand alone part of Norris Family Polaroids

//

There is a loud crying sound coming from the room the seven year olds share and Lando has never felt so old in his bones. He'd just come back from an exhausting race and those don't exactly get easier with age. In times like these, he longs for the days when he was in his first years in F1, blissfully unaware of just how capable and seamless his body was. Anyway. No time to sulk in. One of his daughters is in distress and the day he does not respond to that will be the day he willingly puts himself up in jail.

He gets up from the couch and rushes over to the kids room. The crying is not stopping and when he enters it somehow starts clicking all in. He kneels down and hugs Maya, who looks like is determined to cry her eyes out. Meanwhile, Olivia is sitting on her bed, exceptionally quiet and has never looked more suspicious in her life, ever.

"We need to keep a closer eye on Liv, I think she's teasing Maya too much these days" he recalls Y/N saying over the phone one late evening. It was an early morning call for him, due to the timezones, but he remembers it clearly. He brushed it off, telling his wife that it's getting late over back home and that she should go and get some sleep while she can. But right now, assessing the current situation, he is not so sure about his previous judgement. Long gone is the time he was scared of being a bad parent, of fucking up. He's come to realization that he will inevitably fuck up - not in the same way as his parents, but in a completely new and original way. The fact they were blessed with twins making it that more likely to happen. He's hugging and caressing one daughter, while eyeing the other. Olivia has this look in her face and his stomach sinks down deeply, because he has seen this look before. In the mirror, many times. He was what most would consider a peaceful quiet child. Unless it was him and his sister alone. He'd tease her mercilessly, wait for her to start crying and then play innocent. His parents fell for that so easily.

And now, he's looking at his own daughter, who stares right back at him, and they both know. He shakes his head, making sure Maya does not see and while it does make him mad, it makes him less mad that it should. Because ultimately, he knows that him and his sisters grew up just fine and this teasing eventually stopped. Still, his other daughter is wallowing in his arms and he can't ignore that.

Maya is the first one to speak. "Daddy...I don't want to have a baby," she leans back from his embrace and pouts at him in a way only seven year old know how. So raw, honest and unfiltered.

Lando must have misheard her. “Come again, sweetheart?”

He brushes few tears away. At least she’s not sobbing anymore and is focused on trying to get the words out. “I don’t want to have a baby, I’m too young for that”.

It’s hard not to agree with that. She is seven years old.

He smiles gently, trying to somehow untangle this. "Why would you have a baby?" Another stream of tears and cries follows and she wraps herself in his arms again. He sighs, as it is does not get easier with time to hear your little daughter cry and he looks up to Olivia, who's still sitting on her bed. He's not mad per say, but he's silently asking her to help him find an answer to this all. This is the first time that Liv's expression shakes up and cracks away, hinting on either guilt or at least a sorrow she feels at the sight of her own twin crying. Good, Lando thinks. He tries as much as he can to avoid automatically blaming her for anything without having enough information about the situation. But, his it's hard to ignore his intuition.

He turns to Maya again. "Sweetie, why would you have a baby? You're so young?"

Maya's voice trips over her own sobs, but she finally speaks again. "I...I kissed a boy today."

Now - hold on. First of all, why is his seven year old daughter kissing some boys? He feels himself tense up. Of course he knew this days would come, but he was silently hoping for ten more years of keeping his little angels as they were. Just young, tiny kids running around playing tag. Not kissing boys, girls or whomever. "Who did you kiss?" he can't stop himself from asking, silently hoping he does not know the parent of said boy, because there is no way of preventing himself from making the "concerned parent phone call". Monte Carlo is small, there is only few nursery schools around here. It's an everyone sort of knows everyone kind of situation. "Maya, don't worry - you're not in trouble," he adds, trying to make sure he keeps up on having his daughter willing to tell him stuff like that. She is not in trouble - the boy is. Lando used to be a boy. He knows what's up.

Maya's lip is trembling and her eyes are wet. He can't bear that sight. "Sweetheart, you're not pregnant. I'm sure of that," he consoles her and after few moments of deep thought, she seems to believe him. She ask once more for confirmation. His answered is interrupted by his other daughter, who now looks equally concerned as Maya was just a minute ago.

"But she is pregnant. That's how it works. Boys at the playground said so," she speaks, oh-so-sure of her claims. He face is serious and has a sense of fatality around it. He begins to understand how other children would fall so deeply under this spell.

Ah, Lando thinks and the penny drops. He runs his hands through his hair and has to chuckle just a bit. He doesn't want Maya to think he’s making fun of her, but the absurdity of the situation is too much. He leans back on his heels, looking between his two daughters. Maya’s face is still flushed from crying, and Olivia is sitting with her arms crossed, looking like a pint-sized prophet of doom.

He clears his throat, trying to sound as serious as possible. "Okay, let's get something straight out of the way. Kissing someone is not how you get pregnant," he speaks and his mind briefly flashes to the panic he and Y/N felt the moment they found out she was pregnant with the twins. It's been a long time ago and enlightening journey since, but he can somewhat understand the sentiment. He tries to ground his children down some more. "Look at me and Mommy. We kiss all the time and she is not pregnant, right?"

Olivia seems intrigued. "So, how do you get pregnant?" He looks at her and curses himself for walking right into that one. It's clear in her face and maneurism that she is going to be a very difficult teenager one day. "Ask Mommy when she comes back," he blurts out, not at all prepared for that talk. He's also already mentally ordering apology bouquet for his dear wife for throwing her under a bus like that. He turns to Maya again. "Anyway, you don't worry. You're not pregnant," he caresses her cheek and once she really does seem more calm, he asks. "Now - who kissed you?"

Maya glances at Olivia, and Lando notices his other daughter watching with laser focus. Olivia’s lips are pressed tightly together, her expression that of someone who knows something and is dying to spill it.

“Do you want me to tell him?” Olivia asks suddenly, looking unable to contain herself any longer.

“Liv,” Lando says with a sigh, shooting her a warning look.

“What? I already know who it was,” Olivia says, folding her arms across her chest with a dramatic flair that only a seven-year-old can pull off. He averts his gaze to Maya, who looks like is ready to fess up.

"You're not in trouble," he says and hopes he can keep up on his promise.

She tenses up and something tells Lando he actually does not want to know. "It was Lucas." Too late. “Lucas,” he repeats, his voice carefully neutral.

Maya nods slowly, her cheeks flushing pink. “Lucas Verstappen,” she specifies. Lando feels his stomach drop. Max Verstappen’s son. Of all the boys in the world, it had to be Lucas, the mini version of the Verstappen gang and what one would call a true heir of their infamous blunt approach to life. If this is true, it marks the beginning of a lifetime of headaches. His poor, sweet little daughter - one he'll have to protect until forever.

"And she kissed him too!" Olivia nearly screams out, letting her opinion on this known by the judgy tone.

Lando eyes grow wide and he silently thankful for Olivia spilling it like it is. Maya's guilt ridden face gives it away all. "Maya, honey, aren't you a little young to be kissing boys?" he asks rhetorically, because of course - his little angel should definitely not be doing that.

"I would never kiss a boy! They are gross and annoying," Olivia blurts out, ever-so-competitive. He's not sure what scares him more, Maya who's running around kissing boys or Olivia, who reminds him of himself more each passing day. Let's see about that, Liv, when in ten years I'm warding off boys from your window, he thinks, but does not say it out loud.

"He kissed me first!" Maya defends herself and snuggles into Lando's embrace more. He sighs. It's not been the quiet chill down he expected to return to.

"Okay, ladies. Let's all calm down. How about some ice-cream?" he offers, hoping that cheap bribing will buy him some time to think. The sudden cheers confirm it and he's adding another five flowers to the bouquet for Y/N, knowing she won't condone this.

//

He's watching his daughters munch on the impromptu ice-cream sundae, both of them sitting silently on the kitchen counter, apparently dead set on destroying their pajamas with colorful stains.

The name Verstappen still rings in his ears. They're suppose to have a little family get together tomorrow and for some reason, that's starting to increasingly bother him.

He excused himself for a moment and goes to the balcony, making what he fears is one of the first distressed "my daughter kissed someone" call in his life - and not the last one. Headache. That's what it is.

The phone rings twice before Max picks up, his voice sounding tired and politely annoyed.

“Lando. What’s up, mate? Is it urgent, I'm kind of dead tonight.”

Lando takes a deep breath, trying to sound calm. Oh, you and your son will be dead very soon.

"Hi Max, yeah, it sort of is," he murmurs, trying to think his strategy through. "We have to cancel tomorrow, something came up." Genius. That's who he is. Now, he just has to move his family away from Monte Carlo and make sure Maya never meets Lucas Verstappen ever again. Problem solved.

Max doesn’t miss a beat. "Cancel? What do you mean cancel? Lucas has been talking about seeing the girls all week." Of course he has. Lando groans internally. Of course Lucas has been excited. This wasn’t just any hangout. This was apparently the next chapter in their little playground romance.

"Yeah, not gonna happen, mate," Lando insists, leaning on the balcony railing, running a hand through his hair, overlooking at his dearest angels, who will need his infinite protection. "We can’t do it. Something came up. Okay, bye."

Max is quick enough to speak before he manages to hang up. "Wait, what? If it's a problem for you and Y/N, we can just take care of the kids, no problem."

Is it the whole Verstappen family that wants to take his precious daughters? Lando knows he might be overreacting, but he is a tired man with a resposibility over two seven year old. Cut him some slack.

"No. Canceled. Bye," he says and kills the call. There, all sorted. He immediately goes on figuring out some back up activity for the family, something that will sound so exciting that they will all forget about the Verstappens.

Max calls him right back and he does not pick it up.

The young father goes on putting the girls down, everyone is now calm and there are no more pregnancy scares. He is good at this. Everything is great. Just as the girls are tucked into bed, eyelids drooping and calm finally restored, Lando’s phone buzzes once more. He glances over at it, expecting Max to be trying again. Instead, he sees Y/N’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hi, love,” Lando answers, trying to sound casual. He winks at his daughters, who are always excited when Mommy's around. “How’s dinner?”

“It’s nice,” Y/N replies, but her tone has an edge, the one where he knows she’s about to interrogate him. “How’s everything at home? The girls okay?”

“They’re fine,” Lando says quickly and decides to leave the kids bedroom, so that he can pace around, as he always does when Y/N sounds like that. “All good here. No problems.”

There’s a beat of silence. He can feel her narrowing her eyes through the phone. He can hear the rush of the restaurant she's at, so her calling him must have a pretty good reason.

"Mm hm. So why did you cancel tomorrow’s hangout with Max and his family?"

Lando rolls his eyes, his brain scrambling for an answer while cursing Max mentally. Ugh. “Uh… something came up?”

"What "something," exactly?" Y/N presses, her voice filled with wonder.

"Just… things," Lando says vaguely, mentally kicking himself.

"Things," Y/N repeats flatly. "Lando, Max is suspicious. He just called me, distressed, asking what was going on, and now he thinks you’re mad at him."

This fires him up again. "Well, I am mad at him! So he got that right." Saying this makes him feel like the child in this scenario. Headache. Again.

Y/N sighs. "Did something happen on the track?" he asks patiently.

"What?" he asks, confused. He shakes his head. "No, no, it's um...The girls don't want to meet Lucas tomorrow, that's all."

Even he can't believe his tone.

"The same girls that spent the whole of yesterday excited about the bouncy castle they have at home?" she speaks with almost annoyed tone now. Lando groans, resting his forehead on the cool countertop. He does not have an answer. Just as he's about to fill her in on the whole kissing debacle, he continues. "Look, unless they're sick or something, can you please call Max and talk this out? I'm at the dinner and I can't just spend it all on the phone with my husband and his friend. Call him and talk it out."

Why is life so hard on him? "Do I have to? Can’t we just-"

"Lando," Y/N interrupts firmly. "You canceled without an explanation. You absolutely have to."

"Fine," he says, defeated. "Have a nice dinner, honey. I miss you," he concludes genuinely.

"Me too," Y/N says, her tone softening slightly. "I’ll check in when I’m on my way home. Love you."

"Love you too," Lando mutters, hanging up. He stares at his phone for a moment, then reluctantly dials Max’s number again.

It rings twice before Max answers, his voice dripping with faux innocence.

"Hey man. What the fuck?" Verstappens - always the pleasure.

"Max," Lando starts, rubbing his temple. "How are you? All good?" he asks politely, like the Brit he used to be once.

"What the fuck do you mean, how am I. You cancel out of nowhere and now Lucas won't talk to me, so yeah, great night off for me," he hears unfiltered tone coming through the speaker. He can't say it does not please him a bit.

"Well, it's late, he should be sleeping anyway," Lando let's out of his mouth before he thinks that through, ragging Max even further.

"You stop giving me instructions on how to raise my child and act like an adult for a moment, would you?"

"If someone should act more adult, it's Lucas," Yeah, Lando. Great comeback. Wow. The eight year old should act more like an adult.

Max manages to brush over that. "Did he do something to the twins? You need to tell me these things, how am I suppose to fix it if I don't know what happened? Or if something has even happened?"

It's hard to fight that logic. Especially after the evening Lando has had today. Lando sighs. There’s no way out of this, so he decides to just rip off the band-aid. "Maya told me… that Lucas kissed her. The silence on the other end is deafening. "And she kissed him back," Lando adds, cringing.

Max’s response is immediate: he bursts into laughter. "Oh, my God," Max wheezes. "Lucas and Maya? That’s amazing."

"It's anything but amazing, Max,” Lando snaps, pacing around again. "She thought she was pregnant because of something the kids on the playground told her! Do you know how much emotional damage I’ve endured in the past hour?"

Max is still laughing, clearly delighted. "Mate, you’re overreacting. They’re small. It’s harmless."

"This is the first boy she’s kissed, Max!" Lando argues. "Your son is now part of her origin story!"

"Oh, please," Max says, still chuckling. "What do you think is going to happen? They’ll run away together? They’re kids, Lando. Relax. It's normal for the to do this."

"I can’t relax," Lando grumbles. "And what’s worse, Olivia is now convinced she’s never falling in love because, and I quote, "boys are gross.""

Max cackles again. "Honestly, that’s probably for the best. Liv’s smart."

Lando's cup of patience, small one to begin with, is truly overflowing.

"Alright, alright," Max says, finally calming down and sensing that teasing Lando is not the way to go about it tonight. "Look, Lucas is a good kid. He probably just thought Maya looked pretty and didn’t know how else to say it. I’ll talk to him, alright? But you don’t need to cancel tomorrow over this."

Lando hesitates, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He knows they would all team up against him anyway. He lost this one. "You’re sure he won’t try anything else?"

Max snorts. "What, like propose? No, Lando, I don’t think so. He’s seven."

Fine.

//

The sound of children’s laughter fills the Verstappens’ backyard, the air warm and bright with sunlight. Like it's all mocking Lando specifically. The infamous bouncy castle stands in all its glory. Lando leans against a chair at the patio table, his arms crossed as he surveys the scene with the intensity of investors watching their car getting overtaken on track.

Maya and Lucas are bouncing together, grinning ear to ear like they’ve completely forgotten the events of yesterday. Meanwhile, Olivia stands off to the side, arms crossed and nose wrinkled in distaste, looking like she’s silently judging the entire scenery. She’s probably drafting her manifesto on why boys are, indeed, “gross.” Lando feels proud. At least one of his daughters is strong enough not to fall for cheap boy's tricks. Not even Y/N seems to understand the gravity of the situation. No matter how long Lando spent trying to explain it to her. Cute, that's what she called it. He hopes this is not a precedent. For now, he stands alone.

"You’re watching them like a prison guard," Y/N comments, nudging Lando gently as she sits down beside him.

"And for good reason," Lando replies, narrowing his eyes at Lucas, who’s apparently successfull at making Maya laugh. "He’s already made a move once. I’m not letting it happen again." He will sit happily sit in every playground they happen to encounter each other at.

Y/N hides her smile behind her coffee cup. "I think we’re safe for now. They’re just kids, Lando. You don’t have to treat Lucas like he’s some F1 rival trying to steal pole position from you."

"He is trying to steal something," Lando grumbles under his breath. Max strolls over, holding a plate of snacks, like the responsible dad he pretends to play, and looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Enjoying the show?"

Lando gives him a side-eye glare. "You think this is funny, don’t you?" Max smirks, popping a grape into his mouth and just nods.

"Your son traumatized my daughters yesterday," Lando fires away.

Max rolls his eyes. "And now they’re bouncing around like best friends again. Kids bounce back back. In this case, literally." Oh, he thinks he's so funny.

As if on cue, Lucas lands a little too close to Maya, sending both of them tumbling onto the floor of the bouncy castle in a fit of giggles. Lando tenses, halfway out of his seat before Y/N grabs his arm.

"Relax," she whispers. "It's fine." "For now," Lando protests, settling back reluctantly. From across the yard, Lucas suddenly stands up and calls out: "Mr. Norris!" Lando freezes, his eyes narrowing as the devil child approaches him. "What?" Lucas grins, holding up a flower he’s picked from the garden. He's rushing over to his and hands it to Lando, eyes filled with expectation and anticipation. "This is for Maya!" Speechless Lando accepts the flower, albeit confused as to why he's handing the flower to him and not to Maya, if she's the supposent recipient. Lucas flashes one look towards his father and in the corner of the eye, Lando can see Max nod approvingly. They really have all teamed up against him. Everyone is watching them and waiting for something exiting to happen. Olivia, the only one having Lando's back, lets out an audible groan loud enough to be heard across the yard.

"Oh, come on," she says, throwing her hands in the air. “This is ridiculous. I’m never falling in love. Ever!”

Y/N snorts into her coffee, Max doubles over laughing, and Lando buries his face in his hands. Meanwhile, happy Lucas runs back to the bouncing castle.

"Why is my life like this?" he wonders, looking up the sky for answers. None come. Y/N pats his shoulder affectionately. "Because you’re the dad of two amazing girls. And one of them might have a little crush. It’s not the end of the world."

"It’s the beginning of the end," Lando mumbles dramatically. Max grins, leaning closer. "You know, if Lucas and Maya end up together, we’ll officially be family. Imagine that, Lando," he pauses dramatically. "Maya Verstappen."

Lando's stomach turns upside down, he groans and turns to Y/N. "We're moving to another continent."

The domestic afternoon continues, adults laughing and talking - apart form Lando, who sits in his observant position, regularly sighing, back leaning and forth in his chair. It’s going to be a long, chaotic road ahead. And it looks like he's the only sane person around - in his opinion exclusively.

----------------------- note: fire up them ideas for this pseudo series!!! love you all

[tsuutarr]

(Yandere Otome Isekai Harem [commoner MLs] x Reader)

"Thrust into an unfamiliar world, you have to navigate your role as the Heir to the Arrington Estate. Luckily for you, you have allies that are eager to help you. Maybe a little too eager, in fact."

The Arrington Estate [Chapter 1]

When you wake up, the first thing you want to do is throw up. You feel so deathly ill that you’re on the cusp of feeling like you’re not alive at all. But you’re in so much pain that you know you have to be alive – there’s no other way your nerves would be filled with what feels like molten lava.

“Breathe.” A voice, gentle and low, soothes from beside you. A warm hand settles itself on your back and you’re not even sure how you managed to register it, but you do. “Drink.”

You’re not fully conscious of how the liquid pours down your throat, but you soon find your eyes fluttering shut. Your nerves settle down as you’re lulled into a peaceful rest.

Time is foreign to you when you wake up. Your body still feels heavy, but it doesn’t hurt like it did prior. Processing things is difficult, your mind being bogged down with thoughts that have no end. All you can do is stare at the ceiling made of ornate golden patterns. Gorgeous, but…

It isn’t familiar to you.

Panic should be shooting through your spine, but there’s a feeling of… emptiness that seems to sink into your heart, making the situation seem dull rather than frightening.

“Are you awake?”

You didn’t even realize that there is someone beside you – beside the bed you’re in. Slowly, you turn your head to see a man sitting poised and proper on a wooden chair. His long chestnut colored hair is tied in a neat ponytail, a pleasant smile on his face. But what really draws your attention are his eyes – golden, almost.

“It appears that your complexion has returned. That is a relief,” he says, but you can’t really discern the emotion on his face.

“Who are you?” The words come out of your mouth before you’ve even processed them inside your brain. 

There’s something eerie about the way his expression shifts – it doesn’t shift too noticeably, but there’s a hint of pensiveness that makes you nervous.

“My, I suppose your illness has rendered your memory quite poor. That is unfortunate,” he murmurs, but you’re not entirely sure if he means it or not. It’s a weird contrast – he speaks so kindly, so gently, that he seems so harmless. But he is a stranger to you. You don’t know him – if you can trust him. 

Perhaps he notices the wariness on your face, but he relaxes his body somewhat, offering you a friendlier smile as he introduces himself, “My name is Geoffry Cullen. I am your butler.”

“B… Butler? Mine?” you ask, your brain fog slowly receding. Everything about this situation is so foreign to you, from the ornate ceiling to the luxurious bed you’re on to the man who claims he serves you.

You’re pretty sure this isn’t the life you remember.

“Yes, yours.”

“Who am I, then?” you ask, trying to piece together something – anything that can give you a hint.

“Why, you’re the heir to the Arrington Estate,” he states as if it is the most obvious fact in the world. And perhaps it is the most obvious fact to everyone but you.

You can’t help but doubt the validity of this “fact” that’s been told to you because, while you don’t remember much, you do remember something:

You are, in fact, not the heir to the Arrington Estate.

Perhaps your expression gives away your entire dilemma, because Geoffrey offers you a sympathetic smile. It’s the kindest he’s looked so far.

“You must be hungry. Let me bring you your meal.” He stands up gracefully, adjusting his suit jacket as he does so. “In the meantime, please get some more rest.”

He bows, before exiting the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You’re still utterly lost and confused, the uncertainty of your own situation making you nervous.

Despite your legs still feeling wobbly, you force yourself to rise. Stumbling, you make your way to the mirror. It’s probably the fanciest mirror you’ve ever seen – it almost looks like a jewelry box. It’s so fancy that you’re undoubtedly certain that you aren’t home. There’s no way you could ever afford a mirror of this quality.

What’s odd, though, is that you actually see yourself in the reflection. A part of you wondered if you’d possess another body or something of that sort, but… you look identical to how you remember looking. But you shouldn’t look like yourself, right? After all, the butler – Geoffrey – had claimed that you are the heir to the Arrington Estate, which you aren’t.

Now that you’ve been allowed to wake up fully without the pain from prior, things are slowly coming back to you. You recall your home, your friends, your family; and it’s all just so normal compared to the grand room you’ve found yourself in. This room feels too fantastical to be real.

In fact, it reminds you of the stories you had read about reincarnation and transmigration back in your world. Everything, from your confusion to the room to the butler, seems like the hallmarks of one of the transmigration or reincarnation stories you had read back then. Only… you’re not certain what story you’re in. Geoffrey as a character is unfamiliar to you. The Arrington Estate as a place is unfamiliar to you.

Furthermore…

Why do you still look like yourself? 

You can’t wrap your head around it. Sure, some people retained their appearance when they got teleported into another world, but they usually had a role that did not already exist. These people are the “hero” that got called to help save the world, so it makes sense that they retained their appearance.

But it doesn’t make sense for you. You’re considered the Heir to the Arrington Estate, meaning that you must’ve taken over the role of someone who already exists. And yet you still look like yourself.

You groan, feeling tired. You feel lost and confused. There are too many things you don’t understand – too many variables. 

It’s all too much for you.

Slowly, you trudge back to your bed, settling yourself under the plush covers. You’re pretty sure that the blanket itself is enough to pay your rent for a year. You don’t even want to think about how much the pillows, the bed, the entire room may cost. You’re certain that it’s more money than you would’ve been able to see in ten lifetimes, at least.

But now you’re able to see all this money – it’s yours, technically.

It doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense. It makes your heart beat loudly inside your brain, making your ears ring as you stare up at the ornate ceiling. Somehow, looking at the ceiling makes the buzz in your brain quiet. Your eyes follow the curves and edges highlighted in gold. Your eyes follow the ceiling’s patterns again and again and again until you lull your tired body into a dreamless slumber.

Geoffrey returns to your room a bit later, only to see you slumbering peacefully. He places your meal down on your bedside table, before taking a seat on the wooden chair by your bedside. Quietly, he watches as your chest rises and falls softly, breathing even in your sleep. 

Yes, you must’ve been quite tired, that much is certain. It’s not easy to come back from death, after all. And you should be dead, yet somehow aren’t.

“Curious, isn’t it?” he murmurs, softly, his gaze lingering on your face for any clues.

Yes, it’s quite curious. You should be dead. He was certain that you wouldn’t be able to recover.

Oh, yes, he was quite certain. 

After all, he’s the one that killed you.

And yet, here you are.

[thewisedoge]

Jim Carrey's performance as Gerald Robotnik. (A short analysis)

After like a month of Sonic 3 being out and seeing all the love that everyone is throwing at it. (Including me)

I think we're overlooking how good of an actor Jim Carrey really is in it... Specifically with how he played Gerald.

I think the big part of why I think his performance worked so well was the buildup to the reveal of his true intentions and what he really thinks about Ivo as a grandson.

Once they're at the ARK and arrive at the Eclipse Cannon... You can't help but notice the classic Jim Carrey snark and insanity in his voice... is gone. Not only that, if you look closely at how he acts, his entire demeanor has changed.

Specifically you can notice this when the ARK is released and starts rising up into space, Ivo raises his hand for a high five, y'know from his good old grand genome. But... Gerald doesn't notice or is outright ignoring it.

I know this scene is mainly played for laughs but I really think it was smart to have Gerald become cold hearted and stone faced once he's SO CLOSE to achieving his goal. To avenging his dear granddaughter.

Now throughout the films its basically a big joke that the Eggmen is basically insane. Not only that, they're both AWARE they're insane. But in those films it felt more like an obligation for both Eggman's character and the fact he's played by Jim Carrey.

But once Gerald reveals the true power of the Eclipse Cannon and what he plans to do with it. Even EGGMAN of all people is shocked.

I mean, look at the stark contrast of expression between the two.

DOES THIS LOOKS LIKE THE FACE OF SOMEONE WHO IS OKAY WITH THE EVENTS THAT ARE UNFOLDING?

It's a running theme in the games that Eggman wants to rule the world, not destroy it, so it's really cool to see them adapt that into the film as well.

Speaking of adapting things from the games. It's very well known that this game is based on Sonic Adventure 2. But what I didn't expect them to do was to adapt a lore detail that was introduced in the RECENT games... and that is the extra depth added to Eggman.

In Sonic Frontiers, it's revealed in one of the many Egg Memos you can buy from the fishing minigame that once Maria was killed by the GUN soldier on the arc, everyone was mourning the loss of her life... Neglecting young Ivo in the process.

Now I know the Sonic fandom is divided on Ian Flynn as a writer for the franchise, but this has got to be one of the funniest but saddest things he's written for a character.

Like, it'd be natural to assume a character like Eggman to have daddy issues, but if you made it work alongside but emphasizing the sheer weight and impact of another one of the saddest moments in the series. It's really good writing.

In the movie, they basically take inspiration from this and adapt it to work with Gerald's villainous breakdown. Not only that. They casually just write one of the most heartbreaking and shocking scenes to come out of these movies.

It's kind of hard to explain so I'll just write it out using screencaps from the scene lol.

"WHAT!?!"

(laughing) "WE CAN'T ANNIHILATE THE EARTH!"

(this reaction shot SEALS it. It's like Gerald's admiring that despite his grandson's intellect. He's still incredibly naive and blinded by sentiment.)

"By combining our genus we can rule humanity! Together!"

"Humanity is a failed experiment! If anyone should know that it's you."

"All your life you've been rejected by this world. You have nothing down there. No one who cares about you."

"..." "... But I have you now."

"..." "... We're family. We have each other!"

"Oh Ivo..."

(Once again I have to praise Jim Carrey's acting in this scene. Look at the body language, how his eyes move. He looks at Ivo up and down... As if he's reminiscing. Stuck between that state utter comparison and grief. Standing in front of him is someone of his own flesh and blood. Someone who loves him... But Gerald is too overcome by his own insanity, grief and hatred towards humanity. He can't see that anymore. All he can see anytime he looks at Ivo... is her. So he then utters. By far the best line in the movie.)

"You're no Maria."

I mean...

LOOK. AT HIS FACE.

LOOK AT IT!!

Imagine being Ivo in this moment, after years of being neglected, belittled and bullied by schoolmates. You finally find someone who seems at first to genuinely care about you... Only to find out he... Was just like everyone else.

"The moment I lost her my family was GONE FOREVER."

Okay, my one big criticism with this movie is the fact Gerald doesn't see Shadow like a son to him. I can see why they made Gerald the big bad of the movie so Shadow could come back in future installments as a protagonist. So I guess Gerald having to be a manipulative POS will have to do.

"The only way to give Maria's life meaning is to destroy the world that took her from me!"

"SO I'M BURNING IT ALL DOWN!!!"

It's criminal how most of the criticism and the division on this movie comes from the amount of Eggman shenanigans in it. But I can't help but love it since the emotional core becomes strong near the end and has been built up between the love fans have for Eggman in the movies and it was interesting seeing an Eggman centered character arc of him having to choose between blood family or... uh.

His boyfriend. I'm sorry.

There's literally no other term for a relationship like this. "Henchman" my ass. THEY SWAPPED SALIVA I JUST KNOW IT.

Anyway. Yeah. Sonic 3 is really good not just from a game accurate or a fan pleasing perspective, but from a writing perspective as well. Jim Carry as Gerald needs more recognition.

[retroaria]

thinking about mafia!dazai x bosses daughter…

suggestive but no smut soo…18+…..

he probably pays the security guards outside your room to keep quiet about his nightly visits. if not that, then we could apply the fact that dazai created the entire security system for the port mafia, so i imagine the whole unit is loyal to him. either way, he does what he has to do.

you’re like a drug he can’t get enough of. the only thing that soothes the undying hatred he has for Mori is that he gets to fuck his daughter right under his nose.

he steps inside, taking off his coat and shoes before making his way over to you on your bed. you’re in exactly the position he wants you in already. stripped down to nothing but the lacy lingerie he bought for you, hair down and tuckered behind your ears, kneeling on your plush comforter. you’re pouting at him because you’re upset with him, though he can’t help but feel like he’s being teased by that face. he practically melts at the way your ears perk up the second you see him open his mouth to speak.

“Sorry ‘donna, you know I hate to keep you waiting…” his words came out with little regard as he made his way over to the bed, letting his attention fall to the way your hands grip the sheets in front of you and how your eyes look him up and down in anticipation. he sits down on the bed beside you, one hand grabbing your chin to keep your eyes on his, the other pulling your hand gently from the sheets and lifting it up to his lips. he plants a chaste kiss to your knuckles, eyes never leaving yours. “Forgive me?”

“You know I always do…” the words left your mouth in a timid fashion as you felt the heat rising to your face from his touch.

not sure if i should expand on this idea or not. this ship is lowkey something i pulled from an oc au i had made for bsd back in high school lolz. maybe in the future…for now, i leave you with nothing but crumbs.

pink dividerz: @anitalenia - don’t remember where i got the sparkles from :(

[lovergirlyy]

being sick with spencer by your side is how you would expect it. he is a walking machine of facts and tips about illness and how to feel better. you woke up in the morning with a sore throat and a pounding headache but decided to carry on with your day considering you had things to do. running from store to store appointment to appointment at the end of the day you were exhausted. walking into your home and collapsing on your plushie covered lounge seat in the living room. dramatically collapsing down causes your brunette boyfriend to look up concerned.

“what’s the matter my love?” spencer questions.

this was a normal thing for you. you rip and run until your body can’t keep up anymore. he’s constantly telling you about the importance of rest and how sickness can easily invade the body. most of the time he’s talking your staring at his big brown eyes or playing with his hair waiting for him to stop so you can steal a kiss.

“i don’t feel gooddddd. i took some medicine this morning before i left but it didn’t do a thing!” you moan out still dramatically laid across the furniture. without missing a beat he’s spitting a fact out.

“well actually while medications can relieve symptoms, they don't actually eliminate the cold virus.” before letting him start his rambling your arms are thrown up waiting for him to pick you up. in seconds you were hoisted up with your legs around his waist. whenever you felt sick you became the biggest baby wanting to be up under spencer at all times. right now your just glad he’s home and not far away. times like this always result in you calling him in tears while he talks you down softly.

“ok my big baby come on let’s go take some medicine and get the humidifier.” spencer states getting no response from you. he knows how you get when your sick. all you want is to be held and to lay around with him. deciding to just let you rest for the time being before making you do home remedies all night he heads to the bedroom. after setting you down on the bed he heads to your pajama drawer to get a nice cozy set.

“here change out of those clothes.” spencer hands you the set leaving you to go get you a hot cup of tea. after quickly changing you get under the covers letting out a little cough. he comes back in sets the cup on your nightstand telling you to drink up. as always you follow his orders because in these situations he does know best. shuffling around he gets in the bed next to you opening his arms allowing you to snuggle into him. he rubs your back knowing it’ll slowly bring you to slumber. feeling your body relax he kisses you lightly on your forehead and softly speaks not knowing if you could hear him or not.

“feel better my love.”

[aperrywilliams]

Satellite Call. Part I: What You Kept Hiden from Me (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist | Series Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Words count for this part: 3.2k

Series summary: Your world crushes when Spencer is arrested. Between finding a way to get him out and keeping you afloat, there is something else you need to focus on, too. And even when you thought things couldn’t go worse, a tragedy makes you question if you can make it through.

Part I summary: One of Spencer's trips to Mexico ends badly, and you don't know how to react and what to do.

Series warnings: ANGST (with CAPS). 18+ (MDNI). Some heavy topics will be discussed and shown here. Prison arc, but mostly from Reader's perspective and Emily’s. More detailed under the cut.

Spencer lies to his wife. Drug consumption (against their will). Pregnancy symptoms. Spencer is in jail for more than three months. Hospital visits, doctor’s info dumping (not accurate). Alcohol consumption. Arguing. Strong language. A lot of crying. Emotional breakdowns. A car crash happens (as in the CM storyline). Character dies. More hospital things. Miscarriage. More angst. Depressing symptoms. Mourning. Self-doubt. Suicidal ideation, and almost consummated. Emily is everyone’s emotional support.

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

Spencer thought you would be outside the correctional, just as Penelope is now, waiting for him. But you are not. He either didn't ask JJ why you weren't with her picking him up from inside in the first place. Spencer just assumed you didn't want to be in there, and he understood your reasons. You stopped visiting him because it was hard to see him locked up like that and not do anything about it. Or at least it was what you said to him in a letter Emily handed him during a visit time when you didn't show up. It was a month ago.

After a tight hug with Penelope, Spencer couldn't help but ask.

"Where is she?"

JJ, Luke, and Garcia exchange a troubled look, something Spencer sure does notice. When he sees Garcia's glassy eyes, his gaze settles on JJ and Luke for answers.

"Spence, she—" JJ doesn't know how to express a fact she knows will break her friend.

"Man, she - we should go to the hospital right now." Luke chooses to point out what to do instead of why.

"What?! Why? What happened?!" A frantic Spencer starts to question. What the hell had happened to you? Why are you in a hospital? There are too many questions in his brain right now.

With a hand on his shoulder, Luke gently propels him to start walking to the car.

"We are going to tell you everything, I swear. But let's go to the car, okay?" This time, it's JJ's turn to speak, trying to make Spencer move.

Spencer hasn't felt so confused and afraid even in the four months of being locked up in jail.

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

Five months ago

Exhausted. It's the definition of how you feel after the draining case you just ended in Tampa. The jet is quiet enough to assume everyone is sleeping. But although the evident tiredness consumes your body and brain, you can't bring yourself to sleep. Instead, you look at your front, where your husband is reading a book. His eyes look heavy, but you know he can't sleep either, not before decompressing first. And for that, a good book tends to work most of the time.

It's amazing how you can love someone so much. After two years of marriage and a couple of years as coworkers and friends before that, it isn't easy to think of Spencer as anything less than your soulmate and the love of your life.

You are lost in your thoughts, and you don't notice Spencer's eyes on you, a lazy smile on his face.

"Where did that pretty little head go?"

You don't know if the blush on your cheeks is from being caught or from Spencer's loving tone. Maybe both.

"Nowhere in particular. Just wondering."

"Yeah?"

"Mm-mm."

"Care to share?" Spencer asks with curious eyes.

"Well," you start, smiling at him. "Since you brought it up and knowing we have two days off, what about a getaway out of the city, huh?"

It's not a sudden idea. You and Spencer have been thinking about doing something like that for a few weeks. After a chaotic couple of months at the BAU, you both need time for yourself.

Spencer's eyes softened—a little pout on his lips.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, but I promised my mom's doctor I would be in Houston tomorrow."

You don't remember Spencer telling you that. Could it be that you had forgotten?

"Oh. I didn't know. Something happened to Diana?"

Spencer shakes his head.

"No. Just the usual. The doctors are adjusting the treatment, and we're doing a follow-up, that's all."

Another source of stress for Spencer in the past months has been Diana's health. After an important decline, he got her mom into an experimental treatment in Houston. Spencer fought hard to get her admitted, and even if you weren't sure about it, you supported him in everything related to it. That's why you won't even protest losing another chance to spend time together.

"I'm sorry," Spencer apologizes when he sees you haven't said anything. Reaching for your hand, you hold it and squeeze it reassuringly.

"It's okay, Spence. You must be there. And maybe it's a good chance for me to have a long beauty sleep," you shrug. In all honesty, your body has been yelling for uninterrupted sleeping hours in the past weeks.

"I promise we'll make up for the lost time when I come back, okay?" Spencer offers, kissing your hand. You nod and give him a soothing smile.

Some weeks later, the loud ringing of your phone wakes you from your sleep. Not fully conscious of your surroundings, you pat to the right side of the bed, expecting to feel Spencer next to you, but it's empty. Then you remember you are alone because Spencer had to go to Houston again this week.

"Hello?"

"Did I wake you up?" A confused Emily asks at the other end of the call. You check your bedside clock, and it reads 11 AM. You have been sleeping for twelve hours now.

"Yeah," you rub your tired eyes. I think I caught something. My stomach feels funny, and I was so exhausted last night. What is it? Do we have a case?"

"No, but- Have you heard from Spencer?" Emily asks cautiously.

"He called last night and told me he would come back today." There is a tense silence between you both. "Emily, what's wrong?" you ask.

"You should come to the BAU." It's all she says, and you know something bad happened.

Everything has been a blur since Emily's call and your arrival at the BAU.

As you bolt into your boss's office, you see her, David, and Penelope there, a troubled expression on their faces.

Emily is who delivers the news. Spencer has been arrested in Mexico after a car chase and caught with drugs in the trunk.

It's like she is telling you a movie plot. There is no chance she is talking about Spencer, your husband. No, it can't be. Your husband left two days ago for Houston to check on his mom, as he has been doing in the past month.

But as much as you want to deny what you are hearing, Spencer's mugshot, appearing on Garcia's screen, is screaming the truth.

You think you might throw up. And you do. Quickly excusing yourself, you run to the nearest bathroom to empty your stomach.

It's the same Emily Prentiss who enters the bathroom after you and holds your hair as you keep kneeling before the toilet.

"We are going to bring him back. I swear. Everything is going to be okay," Emily assures you, rubbing your back.

You want to believe her, but not knowing why this is happening makes it hard to think clearly.

You insist on going to Matamoros with Luke and Rossi, and no one dares to protest. You're visibly upset and confused, but staying in Quantico is not an option.

On the plane, Emily sits in front of you. You know why.

"I swear I didn't know anything, Em. I'm as confused as everyone," you confess. "And it's killing me. I know Spencer never would do what they say he did, but either I can explain why he was there."

"I know, but you must have caught something. Has Spencer seemed nervous or extremely quiet lately? Maybe a phone call or something that made him change his mood."

You think for a moment. Spencer has indeed been more pensive in recent weeks, particularly since Diana joined the new treatment. It's also true he's told you less and less about how things are going with her. But you assume it's because he's been worried about everything going well and not because something bad was happening.

A memory suddenly appears in your mind. One night after arriving from the BAU, you were making something to eat, and Spencer left his phone on the counter while he took a shower. You looked at the device, thinking it might be from work, but the name 'Dr. Medina' appeared on the screen. You didn't recognize the name because, according to what Spencer had told you, her mom's new doctor was Dr. Hammond.

"After he checked his phone, he quickly called back, but he went to the bedroom to make the call. I didn't pay enough attention. I should have done—" You trail off, and Emily rubs your arm to comfort you.

"Hey, don't. We don't know if that has to do with what's going on, so let's not get ahead of ourselves."

It's easy to say but almost impossible to achieve, especially when, upon arriving at the Matamoros police station, in one of the cells, you see your husband lying on a bench with his eyes lost in the ceiling.

"Spencer?" you mumble, but loud enough to catch Spencer's attention. He sits and looks at you with eyebrows furrowed as if trying to remember who you are. Some feet behind you, Emily, Luke, and Rossi stand, witnessing your interaction.

Without saying anything, Spencer gets up and walks over to where you are, only separated by his cell bars. With that closeness, you can see the several cuts all over your husband's face; his clothes are torn. But what shocks you are Spencer's red and lost eyes. He is visibly high.

"Do you know who I am?" you ask almost in a whisper, scared of his answer. Spencer nods slowly, his eyes shifting from lost to sad. He recognizes you.

"I'm sorry." It's not much, but you can't hold it against him right now, not when answers are required in the first place.

"Baby, it's okay. We're going to get you out of here, okay? But you need to talk to us. Can you do that?"

It's not until a couple of hours later Spencer fully returns to himself, the effects of the drugs leaving his body.

For the sake of the case, you stay out of it while Spencer tells the team what happened. You don’t want Spencer to feel uncomfortable admitting he has lied to you for weeks.

After Emily conducts a cognitive interview to get details that could help, Spencer returns to his cell. When Emily, Luke, and Rossi leave the police station to search for evidence, only you are left there with him.

Spencer looks embarrassed, and you can feel the gears in his head turning as he tries to find a way to talk to you. When he comes empty of words, he addresses you instead.

"Can you please say something?" His voice is tentative and pained.

"I don't know what you want me to say," you reply honestly.

Spencer sighs deeply. "Tell me whatever you're thinking now. Yell at me, tell me I'm a fucking liar, that I dragged you into this mess, tell me I'm a terrible husband."

You consider his words for a moment. Is it true everything Spencer says is what you're thinking? It probably is, but you don't feel like you have the energy to bring it out the way he wants. However, there is one underlying question that has been on your mind since all this started.

"Why? Why you kept it from me? You don't trust me enough to tell me those things?"

"No, don't say that. I do trust you," Spencer rushes to say, but he knows it's a weak defense considering the circumstances.

"Then I don't get it. Why, Spencer?" Your tone isn't accusatory but sad. You could have helped him if you had known. But he, for some reason, decided against it.

"I was trying to protect you," he says and shakes his head. "I know it sounds stupid now we are here, but it's true. I didn't want you to worry about my mom's situation. I'm so sorry."

Spencer is probably telling the truth, but it doesn't make you feel better. Not seeing him behind bars like this.

The helplessness of not having anticipated this situation and now being unable to do anything to solve it eats you up inside. Despite that, you know Spencer is having it worse. So you, as his partner and who loves him the way you never loved anyone, decide to put your feelings aside to be his support at this difficult moment.

"It's okay," you assure him, placing your hands between the bars to hold his. Spencer is quick to respond and grabs onto your hands as if you were a lifeline to him. "We'll figure it out."

Spencer's eyes fill with tears as he repeatedly murmurs, 'Thank you' and 'I love you.'

You have always considered yourself a strong and tenacious woman. Since you were a kid, you have been independent and able to overcome everything that came your way. But adult life has continued to test you, and this has been no exception. When you find out Nadie Ramos has been murdered and all the evidence points to Spencer, you're about to break down. Still, you can't because if you do, who's going to support your husband? You have to be strong. Some reprieve emerges when you learn Ramos is an American citizen and Spencer can be prosecuted on American soil.

Baby steps.

The jet is mostly silent, save for Emily's occasional page-turning or Luke's typing on his phone. Rossi seems to be sleeping. You and Spencer are in one of the back seats. Spencer's head is in your lap while you absentmindedly play with his hair, looking at the night sky out the window.

"You think Scratch is behind this?" Spencer asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. You consider your answer for a couple of seconds.

"I do. I mean, it's such a damn elaborate plan. I can't think of anyone but Scratch."

Spencer assumes a sitting position and examines your face. He knows you are upset. Cupping your cheeks, he looks directly at your eyes.

"I have no words to say how sorry I am. And I promise to make it up to you for the rest of my life when this is over."

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. When you open them again, you are met with Spencer's expecting gaze.

"I know you will." And you really think that. "I love you, Spencer. I'm sure we are going to get through this." Your voice trembles with emotion, but your words seal a promise you mean to keep.

"And I love you. So so much. God, I'm so lucky to have you." Spencer's arms envelope you in a tight embrace. You melt into him, breathing his scent. It's the way you usually use to ground yourself. It's hard right now because, once the jet lands in Virginia, Spencer will get snatched from you, for God knows how much time it will take.

When the BAU elevator doors open, you find JJ, Penelope, and Tara waiting for you all. Spencer has his cuffed hands covered with your FBI jacket so as not to attract too much attention. Garcia is the first to rush forward and hug him.

You only have fifteen minutes. Then, the police officers will take him to the station to book him and leave him in a cell.

JJ and Tara hug him, too. You assume they are giving him reassuring words, something you know he needs right now. From your peripheral, you see Emily exchange glances with Stephen and retreating to Emily's office. You can't say what's going on, but curiosity gets the best of you, and you follow them. You know Tara, Penelope, and JJ will keep Spencer occupied for a couple more minutes.

"What? Is the bureau abandoning him?" You hear Emily ask, visibly upset.

"They said Reid traveled with his personal passport and didn't inform the office. That's enough for them to step aside," Stephen explains.

"So we don't have legal support," Emily confirms, and Stephen nods.

You can't help but interrupt the conversation.

"What? Spencer will not have a defense?" Both Emily and Stephen startle and turn to see you. While Stephen gives you an apologetic look, Emily is quick to speak.

"Not provided by the FBI, but it doesn't mean Spencer will be alone in this. We'll find a lawyer for him."

"They do want to bury this, don't they? It's bad publicity, and Spencer will fall for it," you start to complain, your breathing picking up speed.

"Hey! We won't let that happen, do you hear me?" your boss steadies you and makes you look at her with both hands on your shoulders. "But for now, Spencer can't know. Not until we get this figured out."

As in cue, you look through Emily's window and see Spencer still chatting with JJ and Penelope.

"This is a nightmare," you mumble. Emily squeezes your shoulder.

"We're going to solve it, I promise."

You see Spencer looking around with a frown. Penelope and JJ are still talking to him, but Spencer seems to be looking for something, better said, someone: you. Cautiously, you descend the stairs to join him. You know you don’t have much time, and you know you can’t tell him about the lack of a lawyer.

“Hey,” Spencer calls when he finally sees you.

“Sorry, I went to talk to Emily about something real quick while giving you time with the team.” You don’t want to delve into specifics and hope Spencer doesn't ask about it.

“Thank you. Can we talk more privately?”

“Sure.” You both move to a corner with fewer people around. Spencer’s eyes trail every part of your face as he wants to engrave you in his memory. At the lack of words, you frown. “Spencer?”

“I know this isn’t going to be easy. I’m terrified, and not just for me. I’m scared about how this will affect you and us. I just want to say that I love you with all my heart, but I will understand if this becomes too much. You don't owe me anything. Don’t feel obligated-”

“Stop! Stop right there. Don’t even try to finish that sentence,” you rush to cut him off.

“But-”

“No. You are my husband. You are the love of my life. You are the person I chose to share my life with. In thick and thin, remember?” You cup his face so he can look directly at your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. Physically, we’ll be apart, but I won’t rest until I get you out, and we'll be together again, okay?”

Spencer’s eyes fill with tears, and so do yours. He leans down to catch your lips with his. He can’t hold you - he’s cuffed - but for now, you can do that work. Lacing your arms around his neck, you deepen the kiss, and you can feel your tears mixing.

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise,” Spencer mumbles on your lips.

“I know you will,” you mumble back before kissing him again.

Emily clearing her throat takes you both out of your bubble.

“I’m sorry, guys, but it’s time. Police are here,” she apologetically announces. You look at Spencer, and he nods. It's time. With a last lingering kiss and an ‘I love you,’ he turns and follows Emily down the hall. Spencer doesn't turn around because he knows if he does and looks at you, he won’t be able to leave you there.

You watch him walk away and wonder if this nightmare will end soon. You don't know if you'll have the strength to hold on to him and yourself and if the love you share will be enough to keep the hope of a better tomorrow alive.

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Next part

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[boopshoops]

No Yan Sim OC questions! (by quartztwst!!)

1. Does your OC have parents or family in the AU? If not, what is their current living situation?

Yuu Shi does! Her mother, father, twin sister, two brothers, and two other sisters. Oddly enough though, each of them go a different school than she does. She lives pretty far from this school in comparison to the schools her siblings go to.

2. What are their thoughts on Quartz?

She's honestly a bit puzzled by Quartz. Why kill Azul when you can set up a giant social scandal and revel in the collapse of his carefully built empire that will surely ruin a big part of the rest of his life? Like there are worse things you can do than death but go off ig 🙄 (She relates to hating his ass, but not to the same degree. She's willing to do business with her but otherwise prefers not to think too much about how many possible murderers are at her school.)

3. What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul?

Oh she hates his ass- but more so in a petty way. She was assisting the student council before he even arrived, so they met through that during his freshman year (her sophomore).

She hates the way he speaks down to her- and to most people. The way he puts himself on a pedestal ABOVE her, staring daggers like he knows that she's nothing but some bug under his shoe. She eventually wants to take his position in the student council, literally just out of spite. Just to see the look on his face.

Therefore their interactions usually are akin to banter- banter and arguments. Deals that go back and forth and back and forth and inevitably get nowhere. Rivals.

That being said, over the past two years Azul has had to internally admit that she's far more capable and intelligent than he initially pinned her to be- and the fact that he can't always tell what her intentions are bothers him to no end. A hindrance.

4. What are their relationships with other characters/OCs?

Student Council: She is rather uptight around a majority of the student council members with the exception of Kalim(club mate) and Vil(they share makeup and style tips :)). She takes extra care to retain an air of professionalism in this environment- and therefore takes on a very serious, academic persona a majority of the time.

Music Club: Ahh, now this is her home- she's a bit more comfortable being herself here. A smug grin is more likely to slip around the ones she truly considers friends.

Teachers: This is the academic persona cranked up to 10. She's always volunteering for them and giving her best. She feigns respect for their authority and always takes the time to talk with them in as sickeningly sweet of a way she can imagine. Aint she just an angel?

Others:

Jade: She wasn't sure about him at first. Yuu Shi just seemed to assume that he was the same as Azul- and of course, that is correct in some areas, but she failed to account at the time that he's actually hilarious. She finds his odd hobbies very funny- and with his high intelligence, he was able to clock her as a figure to take seriously faster than Azul was. They banter similarly to her and Azul, but it has a lighter vibe of teasing to it. They both entertain each other in different ways- they match each others freak, platonic version.

Vizzie(@twistedwonderlandshenanigans): Ahh, one of her blackmail sources- She gets info from Vizzie in exchange for keys to rooms that offer privacy. This info includes things like meeting spots or objects someone may have, mostly posted on sticky notes outside Yuu's locker. She is a bit uneasy about Vizzie's tendency to psychoanalyze- but nonetheless remains on friendly relations! She often catches herself slipping into a more honest persona with Viz- though holds herself back at times due to her uneasiness. Besides this, they vibe.

Yuya (@cheerleaderman): She is well aware that Yuya is a fellow dealer of sorts in the school- however they both are currently on civil terms! Yuu Shi is always prepared for that to change, but that applies to everyone really. They mind each others business when it comes to, well, business, but in a more normal school setting they usually exchange light teasing and banter.

Shuu (@oya-oya-okay): Yuu isn't too familiar with Shuu, but she knows the basics. She is a very kind figure with many friends around her- able to see the good in people. When talking together, Yuu often reflects off of Shuu, putting up an overly sweet and smiley act. In actuality, she is becoming increasingly frustrated that she hasn't found much of any overly incriminating blackmail-

Ace: One of her few closer, true friends outside of the music club. They banter and tease and prod and poke and prank- all in good fun, of course. However, similarly to her club buddies, her side business is kept quiet. (not exactly outwardly lied about, just... quiet. Remember, you out her, she outs you.)

Deuce: They are friendly, and that is about all it extends to. She has begun tutoring him as a bit of a side project for the student council. Internally she's screaming at him but externally she's trying oh so hard to be patient- she has a soft spot for the effort he puts in, actually. They are gradually getting to know each other more and become better friends primarily through Ace.

and more!! (Feel free to come talk to me about possible interactions with your ocs in this au!! i'll edit this and tag you here)

5. What grade/year is your OC?

Third year. Junior. She is 18 in this AU.

6. What is your OCs goal for the school year or in life?

fuck bitches get money /j (Gain higher standing)

7. Your OC is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does your OC react to that? Does your OC know it's Quartz?

Oh she knows, and she has evidence. Of which has several copies and pictures made of it, and are planned to be conveniently placed all around the school. Sure, it outs her as being a big source of gossip, but hell if she's getting accused of murder.

8. Your OC notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does your OC report this?

uh duh thats a fork found in the kitchen. she doesn't care, thats part of her business- unless, ya know, Quartz betrays her in some way. Also the uniforms should have pockets. sincerely, ms. yuu "im way too into my set fashion to the point that i narrowly dodge a uniform violation slip on the daily and only get away with it due to my good relationship with the teachers" shi.

9. Where is your OC usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch?

She usually eats lunch with her club buddies- that or in the library, doing some studying. At the end of the day she spends her time in the student council room, though she is known to frequently wander when she's making deliveries for them or her teachers.

10. How are your OC's grades?

She gets very good grades! She dedicates a lot of her time at home to study- and even does it as a hobby occasionally (like a geek but she will deny this /j)

The brain worms got me-

SOOOO this is for @quartztwst's au no yandere sim! I fell in love with the idea and had to throw in an interpretation wooo

Game mechanics wise- i think yuu shi would be the one who helps upgrade certain stats and unlock things to make getting around the school easier. Her reputation itself is odd- often being very well liked by many and very disliked by some as well, all with conflicting statements. She basically controls the gossip world. If you give her blackmail she wants, she's got your back. She believes she's too helpful to be potentially offed- especially since she doesnt get in the way of Quartz or other potential rivals. But it doesnt make her invicible obviously lmao honestly if she was one of the people who was offed first itd be funny- but she wont go down without a fight. Shes a great ally to have but also a horrible enemy if you wrong her and keep her alive. At least she isnt a nark

Tags!

@lowcallyfruity @skriblee-ksk @cecilebutcher @justm3di0cr3 @kitwasnothere

@techno-danger @scint1llat3 @the-trinket-witch @thehollowwriter @distant-velleity

@prince-kallisto @beneathsakurashade @qsoap @twsted-canvas @kathxrat-01

@sillyslipperybananapeel @tixdixl @twstinginthewind @jadelover69

[alpaca-clouds]

"I thought you wanted this!" Religious Zealotism in Castlevania

Something Castlevania Nocturne Season 2 made me think about a lot about is its relation to religious zealotism, and how generally speaking religious zealotism is a theme that has been around since the first season aired in 2017.

And there is one very interesting aspect to this: Only one character escapes the grasp of religious zealotism for good - at least from all we know. And that character is Isaac. (Though I guess we also can talk about Mizrak.)

The Bishop & Emmanuel

The unnamed Bishop, who gets killed by Blue Fangs in season 1 of the show, and Emmanuel both are Catholics. They are similar in their motivation - and yet also very different.

The Bishop is very self-righteous. He claims he is acting in the will of God, even though obviously nothing he is doing has actual basis in the bible - especially not in the New Testament, which I remind you does explicitly state that it does undo a variety of rules from the Old Testament. Lisa was in the end just helping people with knowledge that he did not understand, and he killed her for it. Even if her husband had not been Dracula, who then exacted revenge on humanity for it, probably killing thousands in the process, the bishop would have probably doomed quite a lot of people through it. People, who without Lisa's medicine would have died even without Dracula's genocide. We maybe should not give a whole lot on what Blue Fangs says, but generally speaking I think that his entire thing with "your work makes God puke" is not too far off. Still, the Bishop very much clearly had very successfully convinced himself that he was indeed doing God's bidding. Of course God never thanked him for it, and he - like most other people - eventually ended up being killed by Dracula's creatures.

In Nocturne then we have Emmanuel. I wrote about his motivation already. He is different from the Bishop in that he does not think fully that he is enacting God's direct will, but thinks he is still acting in the name of God. He thinks he works for God, if he stops the heretic Revolution and then also Erszebet. Still, he is of no illusion about the fact that his actions will eventually end him up in hell. It is still zealotism that makes him act like this, though. He is absolutely certain of the fact that he is doing what he is doing for heaven and for God. In this he has convinced himself to not even do the kind of Witchcraft that definitely is forbidden by scripture, as he makes a deal with what he thinks is a demon. But of course, just like other religious men before him, he absolutely is convinced that this is still for the greater good. (Insert obligatory Hot Fuzz reference here.)

And just like the bishop in season 1 of Castlevania, Emmanuel obviously eventually dies because of this, not finding protection through his religion.

Drolta

Drolta is quite interesting in regards to the religious Zealotism, because she is the kind of Zealot that we very rarely see in media.

I talked about it before: Western media at the very least tends to be iffy about depicting religion in any strong sense outside of the religion of a possible exorcist in a horror movie (which tends to be Catholicism, as to Americans apparently Catholicism is a very magic religion, I assume). If we see Zealots they are usually Christian or Muslim.

A kemetic Zealot is something I have never encountered. But indeed, Drolta is a very interesting character through this. I wrote about her motivations, too. Her religion at this point is close to being a dead religion. And then the religious community she has gets murdered around her. She is a member of a cult (aka someone from a polytheistic religion just praying to one of the many gods). And thus she prays for a sign from her goddess. And the first thing that happens after this is that a vampire comes in to feed of the dead bodies. So to Drolta this is the sign she has been waiting for. And she, who clearly is afraid to be ever helpless again, decides the goddess wants her to be a vampire.

Now, she knows her goddess to be dead, and herself now being undead, she also decides that the goddess must want this too. Undead immortality. And thus she starts to reason herself into believing this is, what she has to do. And when she finally is confronted by her goddess she cannot even comprehend, that this could not have been what the goddess has wanted. That indeed the goddess was not aware of what Drolta was doing.

Her case is of course quite interesting in that she indeed gets opposed by her goddess herself, rather than just facing defeat in the end.

Mizrak

Before we talk about Isaac, we should quickly chat about Mizrak, too. Because within this conversation of Zealotism Mizrak is quite interesting exactly for being very, very religious, but not a zealot. Mizrak's religious experience in fact is very much focused on his doubt and his guilt. Yes, he strongly believes in the Christian God and in Catholic doctrine. He see him pray several times, and he soothes himself by saying prayers. Yet, he very much is doubting what gets presented to him. While every other character in this list goes to further and further extremes in the name of their deity, excusing those crimes to themselves by telling themselves it is what the deity wants, Mizrak cannot do that.

Mizrak does not know what God wants, and he does not claim to know. He is in fact at times clearly doubting God, partially probably because of his own homosexuality. Doctrine at the time said, homosexuality was a test given to the people to test them and their devotion to God. But of course, someone thinking critically about this, cannot help but conclude that this means God is quite cruel to test some people like this, and not others.

However, the point for Mizrak gets reached, when Emmanuel is about to kill Maria in his Zealotism. No doctrine, and no religious scripture will convince Mizrak that it is right to kill or even endanger a child - no matter to what end. And this is the point where he concludes that even if this was what God wanted, he - Mizrak - in that case cannot want what God wants, and he will in the worst case stand against God's will, because his moral integrity is stronger than his religious zeal. (This is the reason I like this character so much.)

Isaac

Finally we have Isaac, who is very much interesting in this - mainly in that the show does not quite as clearly telegraph his religious zealotism, if you have not read Muslim scripture (and that is more than just the Qur'an). I have seen quite a lot of discussion about why Isaac is so perfectly happy to commit genocide, despite his deeply held religious believes. After all, religion in general has strong opinions about killing people, right? And even if we were to assume that God was alright with killing non-believers, or non-Muslims specificially, "killing all the people in the world" would definitely include quite a lot of Muslims, right?

If you have however read the scripture, there is enough answer to this question in Isaac's dialogue. He does quote and reference scripture more than once, and from this it becomes quite clear: Isaac believes that the prophecized end times have begun and that he has been chosen by God to enact His will to end humanity, so that all the humans can eventually be reunited with God in heaven. (Please note: While it depends on the flavor of Islam people follow, Islam in general has an idea more closely to Hinduism, in that souls that end up in hell will be punished until their soul is redeemed. While in Hinduism this means a soul is ready for reincarnation, in Islam it means the soul can finally ascent to heaven and it is God's goal that in the end all his children will be in heaven. Which is why Isaac references several times that "hell will be empty". In Isaac's view he pulls souls from hell to enact God's will, which will cleanse them and allow them to eventually ascent to heaven.)

Isaac however is interesting in comparison to the other zealots of the show, as he allows himself to be reached by reason. After the Captain, the shopkeeper and Miranda talk to him, he does eventually come around to the believe that not only he was on the wrong path, but also that his zealotism itself was a sin. Which allows him to stop from going further on this path, and rather choosing a different goal, in which he eventually does want to help people.

[the-astronome]

Saw a post here about names of pathologic characters, and decided to share some thoughts regarding our beloathed Bachelor, because I realised something and have to share it with you.

So, what do we know? Well, his name is certainly Daniil and his surname is Dankovsky. “What about his patronymic?” you might ask. Here it’s a bit more complicated, but knowing that he once signed a letter with D.D.D. we can safely assume his patronymic starts with a D, and as a matter of fact, I’m quite sure that it’s actually Daniilovich (i.e. his father’s name was also Daniil), though my arguments in favour of this are rather funny

1)Name:

Daniil, what does this name mean? To begin with, the name comes from Hebrew (“Dānīyyēʾl” in romanised version) and literally means “God is my judge”. What is more interesting, in my opinion, is that this name is partially formed by another Jewish name, “Dan”. “Dan” literally means “judge” and its most known bearer is Dan, son of Jacob (also known as Israel, the angel-wrestling guy), who was (according to the Bible) the founder of the Tribe of Dan. Moreover, the symbol of this tribe is a serpent, because of Dan’s sly, scheming, and calculating character.

Apart from that, Bachelor’s a doctor, and one of the most famous symbols of medicine (at least in Russia) is a Bowl of Hygieia, see a simple example below

This also could be an intended symbolism, which probably started with IPL thinking how they would name their genius-doctor-character, and then spiralling down into all these snake-related topics, eventually choosing Daniil. It might have been just a funny coincidence. Someone can probably text them on Twitter and ask.

2)Surname:

Here it’s a bit tricky, and please do feel free to correct me, because the info I’ll give here might be false. Anyway. When I first started P1, I was a bit puzzled by Bachelor’s surname. You see, even though it is defo a Slavic surname (e.g. -sky ending), it doesn’t make much sense to a Russian speaking person, since what the hell is “Dankov”? A surname in a surname, now ending with “-ov”? Well, here is a potential explanation:

Western Slavs have a form of “Daniel”, namely “Danko”. As far as I understand, it can be a surname (and it is, in various forms, at least in Slovakia and Ukraine). This makes the surname “Dankovsky” mean something like “of the Danko” “son of Danko” “belonging to Danko” etc. All this suggests that, if we translate his surname to Russian in the literal manner, it would change to “Daniilov”. So you see where I’m going, right..?

3)Patronymic:

So. What do we have. “Daniil” as a name, and a surname which apparently (through numerous layers of linguistic irony) is also formed from the name “Daniil”. And we know that his patronymic starts with D. Do I dare suggest that his patronymic follows this silly pattern as well, so it would be “Daniilovich”?

This leaves us with a beautiful name of Daniil Daniilovich Daniilov, which sounds rather humorous and comical to russian-speaking folks (reminds us of the legendary Ivan Ivanovich Ivanov). As a close friend of mine suggested, that could have been a placeholder of sorts during the early development of the game and/or character, when IPL only came up with a name, but not with everything else. Then they decided not to over-invent things, and just obscure the surname via translating and adapting it to Western Slavic languages (Polish and apparently Slovak, I would guess), and basically never mentioning his patronymic. Ingenious if you ask me

4)Takeaways:

Not much, unless you see a sentence where I’m talking out of my ass, please I beg you speak up if messed up the Western Slavic part, I’m not native to those languages, so could’ve missed something there.

More importantly! For me, all these layers behind DDD name form a very concrete foundation for my headcanon that Bachelor is of Polish-Jewish origin. In general, his surname suggests lots of interesting stuff, so explore the linguistic opportunities my fellow patho people

[flying-fangirls]

To be quite honest with y'all, one of my biggest frustrations with the Witch isn't the fact that she's portrayed as a bad person or an allegorical transphobe, but moreso with how... nasty, the responding attitude toward her is-- both in the podcast's voice and several fans' voices. I'm not saying that her hate and intolerance were totally excusable, but like. Relatively speaking-- in this podcast-- it's nowhere near the worst thing any character has done (especially in light of all the yonic/assault coding behind her character, but I won't go into that because it requires way more energy to respectfully talk about than I have rn)

Everything about Larson's background has pretty clear undertones of incest and rape, but we all still treat him as one of those "characters you love to hate" (and I'm definitely not condemning that fandom response btw, I do it too). Hell, even the podcast's voice itself portrays him as that entertainingly despicable villain. And even past Larson, let's be honest with ourselves, most main characters in this show have done incredibly fucked up stuff, such as Kayne, Arthur, and John. Still, Kayne also gets the entertaining villain treatment, and Arthur and John get praised for their imperfect nature.

The Witch though? It feels like the general response to her is unflinching disgust, a sort of "that nasty, lying bitch" attitude without any remorse or nuance. All of a sudden, harmful behaviors mean a character should only be despised, and nothing else.

And yeah sure, the Witch refused to budge from her intolerant viewpoint or whatever-- in this single conversation, after a lifetime of being taught only hate, despair, and loneliness. I don't know about y'all's experience talking to people raised in hateful environments, but it takes more than one heated conversation to change their minds. And again: no that doesn't excuse the harm they spread. But for a story that preaches the importance of giving people extended time to improve themselves from the worst of morality, even if they stumble or fuck up several times along the way? It feels entirely antithetical for this woman to get spat upon after a single impression of her.

Think about Yellow, too. Think about how he "grew up" in an environment (Arthur, then Larson) that taught him only hate and despair, which led him to be incredibly intolerant, violent, and hateful. And then think about how both the story's voice and us in the fandom treat Yellow. It's not with unflinching disgust and loud vitriol; most of us view him with sympathy, despite all the horrible things he says/does that aren't necessarily excusable, yet are understandable. Why is the Witch any different? Why does the disdain for her ring so much louder, sharper, and meaner than anyone else in this entire show? Why do we "love to hate" nearly every other antagonistic character we've met (Kellin, Butcher, Larson, Kayne, etc etc etc), but suddenly only do the "hate" half of it for this one specific character?

Why is SHE so much worse? What difference between HER and every other major onscreen character subconsciously shifted our viewpoints?

Obligatory disclaimers: Again, I don't think the Witch's physical/verbal violence was wholly excusable. I don't think anyone who dislikes the Witch is a terrible person, nor do I think Harlan or the show are terrible. I am not claiming that everyone in the fandom displays these attitudes, nor am I saying this attitude is some moral failure. This is a critical critique meant to spur critical evaluation, and not any sort of attack.

[muse-hodgepodge]

Gaster certainly qualified for that given what he'd been through. Hell, even the normal hum of machinery and smell of chemicals was far too much right now. While he would love to be able to shake all of it off it was affecting him negatively if he were to be honest... When Reyna mentions another dimension the poor scientist did seem to tense up quite a bit, not exactly looking to go to another new dimension so soon after being rescued.

Sans meanwhile nods before speaking quietly, "I know the perfect spot. It's where I go when I get overwhelmed too and not many monsters know of it." The younger skeleton then looks to his parent and oh so gently takes his hands, looking sympathetic at the flinch. "You gonna be okay if I make a shortcut dad? I won't let that happen again, I swear. I just want to get you somewhere comfortable and safe..." Gaster does look rather iffy about the idea with good reason but finally he nods his consent before speaking in a whisper, "that's fine Sans. I trust you." This gets Sans to smile back before he let's go of Gaster's hands to open a shortcut to a dark quiet place with dots of glowing blue, a little place in Waterfall.

However, after the older skeleton tries to stand up and he can't quite seem to grasp how to get his legs to cooperate he begins to shake fairly badly with it rattling his bones. Seems all these new things were in fact starting to get to him as his eyelights dim and he starts to take breath more repidly.

The lizard nods in understanding. After all, it was like being out of everything for an unknowable amount of time. Especially since he was outside its normal confines. The older skeleton would certainly need somewhere more peaceful and calming to easily readjust. The question was just, where would even be good? She doesn't know the Underground like Sans does.

"True. Do you have any idea as to where we can have him settle in for a bit? If not, I can easily help by relocating to a simple pocket dimension of mine. I have it on standby in case someone might be experiencing sensory overload. It's quite handy." She inquires, adding her suggestion along with it.

[searchingforserendipity25]

i know it's too early in the fandom for a secretly a royal au but. secretly a royal au. the reason everyone is shocked by cardinal lawrence's homily is that no one thinks cardinal lawrence is even remotely interested in the papacy.

it's not the done thing to have a royal in the papacy and hasn't been for centuries, for several excellent historical reasons; and moreover, he's made a name for himself as an administrator, a canonical expert who works in the background, cleaves to the liberal faction, remains in the shadows of more outspoken diplomats, and most importantly: does not rule.

being dean of the college of cardinals is as much of a relevant public-facing job as he's ever had, and he would really rather go without. if he had wanted power he'd have stuck it out as a duke's son and married one of his hanover cousins or some such, back when it seemed shockingly likely that he might end up sitting on the big chair himself.

instead he rather famously ran away to france to be a seminarian out of genuine spite and also a genuine spiritual calling, which would have gone over much better if he'd stuck with the anglican turn of things.

managed to get by with shocking discretion for most of his ecclesiastic career by virtue of being deeply private and going by one of his mother's dozen of names. though the fact that he's a cardinal at all and was secretary of state was quite debated when it made the news.

everyone in the conclave knows, and also everyone in the world, except perhaps for vincent benítez, who was in the middle of being more-or-less kidnapped by a cartel in veracruz when that exposé on the vatican's brand new cardinal made its way into the international papers back in '11. i

it's fine, he talked them into letting him go and also into the path of atonement; he just doesn't have the context for why dean lawrence keeps having a small internal death of the soul whenever he tells him he's voting for him. please do not vote for him.

he went and joined a religious cult where he's explicitly forbidden from inheriting anything and marrying and producing children to avoid a crown, he really does not want to be elected into any position of power. it's unethical, it's gauche, his sense of self would crumble, and also the international fallout would be 1) terrible 2) force him to speak with his family.

cardinal bellini also found out in '11. he is very supportive as a friend, and barely makes any boston tea party or redcoats jokes at all.

the fact that for the third act of the conclave an actual prince thomas seems like the best best for a liberal win inside the vatican paints a very very sad picture of the curia.

this does not work very well as a concept i recognize. but the idea of thomas lawrence trying to skive off the institutional horror of british imperialism to end up second-in-place at the vatican and narrowly avoiding the papacy is very funny to me.

man who adamantly vows not to be attracted to power tragically stuck in power-corrupts machine and keeps being shocked when colleagues and peers are revealed to be corrupt, nonetheless keeps on revealing corruption with compulsive detective work. as a form of atonement??

possibly a running thread might be the concept of service to god and the church as an imperfect means of finding meaning and erasing the self, and how giving up one one's agency/believing in one's own powerlessness/self-hatred and shame is of no practical good use to anyone or anything, and only adds to the entropy that wears on every good intention.

and most importantly. can you imagine how intolerable tedesco would be about it.

[rightwheretheyleftme]

Asami vs Meelo: Who had more screentime in Book 4?

I recently read an analysis of Book 4 of Korra, as one does, and the poster claimed that Meelo had more lines in the final season than Asami. My initial reaction was "that can't be right", we all know that Asami is by far the most underwritten main character in the franchise but there is no way that they would give more lines to the comic relief character than to her, right? right??? Well, I decided to do the math.

Let's start with the basics:

Asami either doesn't appear or speak in episodes 3, 4, 6, and 10.

Meelo doesn't appear in episodes 2, 8, 9, and 10.

Both are absent for 30,7% of the final season.

Now, let's cut to the chase: Meelo has 61 lines in book 4 while Asami has 71. Here is the full breakdown:

Some random facts: - The most Meelo-centric episode is The Calling where he has a whopping 42 lines. In contrast, the most Asami-centric episode is Reunion where she has 20 lines.

- Asami only has 1 line in the finale before her love confession to Korra.

- In Kuvira's Gambit, the episode where the finale arc starts, Asami and Meelo have almost the same amount of lines (5 vs 4)

- Meelo is present in the episode where Kuvira refuses to step down and the true plot of the season begins. Asami isn't.

- Meelo has more lines about how he feels about being the only boy in his family (3) than Asami has about how she feels about the brutal murder of her father (1)

So Asami wins! Yay! ..... did she, though?

Could you imagine if the Cabbage Merchant only had 10 lines less than Sokka/Katara/Toph/Zuko during the final season of ATLA?

Could you imagine someone having to count and compare the Cabbage Merchant's lines to Sokka/ Zuko/Toph/Katara's?

This is what really confuses me about Asami as a character. The writers made her a main character yet they refused to treat her like one. She has no depth, complexity or three-dimensionality; she barely has more lines than the comic relief buffoon.

Asami deserved better, man.

[hustlemeanokay]

Solavellan vs Dread Rook? When did it become a competition? Ship all the ships, I say.

So as much as people like Solavellan (or whatever they call it) - I don't get why people don't like Solas x Rook. It's all there. It's perfect. The tension, the range, the enemies to lovers trope or hell, just the potential for so much writing to be involved. Like, okay... so okay... I go into my personal opinions about what makes each of their relationships different (just a few opinions not like power point presentation style or anything).

When I first played Inquisition, when it first came out, I naturally picked an elf and unknowingly romanced the bald dude. And Solas' romance is a good one. But it's only good because he leaves Lavellan. It's the first time that's happened to a player character in either DA or ME games. A legit breakup. With, at the time, no real reason! It wasn't until after the game, of course, that we were like "OMG!!!" But on the whole, there really wasn't a lot to their romance if you remember what actually happened in the game. But you have to ignore all the fan fiction and fan art that has been done in the decade since then. Just counting the game itself? Not a lot going on there. A couple of kisses, a couple of talks, and that's about it really.

And the whole time, he wasn't being who he really was. He was playing a part. He was Solas version soft-core, so to speak. Because while he may not have started calling himself the 'Dread Wolf', he very much is that person. Solas is prideful. He is a bit of an asshole. He is cold and calculating. The Solas we see in the memories in Veilguard was already turning into that person so the Solas that meets Lavellan is 100% already there. He uses her. The fact that he falls in love with her has very little to do with him using her, he can compartmentalize like that. As Cole says, it changes everything but it can't. But, point being, Lavellan never really got to know him. He always had a mask on. Was always so careful about what he said and how he said it as to not raise suspicion.

But with Rook? Oh, he's pissed. Gone is his careful way of speaking. Gone is his gentle tone and light smile. Rook gets Solas unfiltered. Solas without a mask. Solas the Dread-fucking-Wolf. There's still parts of him that are recognizable. But on the whole, he's more real. Because he's not worried about pretending to be something he's not. Rook knows what he is. Rook knows he's going to betray them, knows he's going to turn on them, is expecting it. (And Solas' manipulations are painfully transparent, with the exception of Varric). What he's worried about with Rook is keeping their blood-magic link in tact and molding them into someone the prison will accept (still not sure how that worked but w/e). But as far as when he talks to them? Sees them? Rook gets under his skin and he slips up and lets it show. He nearly misspeaks almost immediately and he does misspeak later. Rook does that to him. Because he's not keeping himself at arms length with them, he can't.

So the idea of Solas x Rook? Much more... real, as in 'keepin' it real', than Solavellan to me. Does that mean I have zero fics with Solas x Lavellan? Hell no. I have like at least half a dozen with different Lavellans x Solas. But! What it means is that the relationship between Rook and Solas is very intriguing and compelling and is definently fic-fuel. It means that I already have 2 separate fics WIP for them.

You don't have to stand on either side of this line, you can draw a big circle, stand inside of it and clutch both Solavellan and Dread Rook tightly to your chest with you. I'm not sure why there's this insistence that you have to pick one. You've never had to pick one. That's what having multiple OC's is all about. That's how that works.

[mimi-fy]

Anya + her relationships with the crew full analysis (tw j*mmy/18+/sensitive topics mentioned!!)

Brief description/personality

Anya is a young woman, her parents aren’t mentioned and she has no support and she works at a job that pays high and abit dangerous but she still works there nonetheless. She most probably is in debt and her parents don’t support her and she tried to get into medical school eight times but failed which explains why she is distraught after she is fired and she admits she has no savings. She took the job on the tulpar for its high pay and not for dangerous environment not to mention the lacklustre supplies and the fact that she would be the only woman on board on a ship with all men for a year, men she didn’t know. Anya is a sweet woman who does her best which is a lot as she saved curly with only a standard medical kit depite not actually getting into medical school and only taking the nursing classes the pony express provided. Before ‘the incident’ Anya is seen as lively and carefree joking with others who are even above her status. Before the indecent she was close with everyone maybe even jimmy before the incident. But after the incident Anya is quiet and reserved. She watches her tounge and only speaks in metaphors, she is overlooked by jimmy and curly who are the ones in charge.

Relationships

In the ultrasound scene we see how Jimmy perceives Anya. He doesn’t see her as a living being. He sees her as mearly as a pile of flesh, her womb, vagina, eyes and her ability to have a baby ‘that he tries to ignore’. The signs that he is an abuser start even before the tulpar crashed. When Anya says that he doesn’t take her seriously and he jokingly says ‘i have found myself sexually attracted to horses’ is a form of r*pe itself. Forcing her to listen to his desires and kinks just because it’s her job. And it is possible that jimmy made Anya drink one of his ‘cocktails’ he fed Swansea. Meaning that jimmy possibly drugged Anya and took her by force. Jimmy is larger than Anya older and has a better status than she did. As curly tried to believe that jimmy was still a good guy after what he did. Even knowing that Anya was harming herself or killing herself when she locked herself in medical. Jimmy did not give two shits. He is more concerned about curly and the rest of their medical stash inside the room and offers no comfort and doesn’t try to calm her. And he only cares about saving curly with daisuke who is naïve to the events and why Jimmy doesn’t give two shits about Anya. When jimmy looks over her body there is no importance of her death in jimmys eyes. Even when he spirals to insanity and each person gets some scene or way of guilt tripping jimmy. Anya has no place or mention or any symbol her id is blacked out and there is no symbol of her. There is only the place of her child (the pony showed as polle but malformed and grouped where you see it chasing after jimmy and jimmy running away and stopping jimmy from running away at the start of the game long with the babies cries heard). He only saw his mistake. The baby in her. He didn’t see Anya.

Curly who doesn’t take her seriously and tries to ignore the problem, as Anya told him that he knows who the father is but, he just wanted to ignore it. As in the nighttime scene jimmy is the broken pixel curly does not see. He mearly cares about the whole picture (the tulpar) he tried to talk to jimmy but he shrugged it off. And could’ve possibly plotted to kill Anya so that she couldn’t live to tell the tale. When curly has a delusion where he is walking through a sea of blood and ladders. He sees the warning signs and ignores it. (The warning signs were jimmy. Anya warning him about jimmy and him ignoring it) meaning that curly is an enabler (which is just as bad as the do-er!!). And is as guilty as jimmy as he saw the signs. And he didn’t help Anya at all didn’t let her have the gun for safety, and didn’t give jimmy any form of punishment.

She tries to take charge and confront jimmy herself because curly had failed to do anything. And he mearly tells her to ‘take care of it’ which later becomes ironic. Because jimmy cannot take charge. For those who said that ‘Anya should’ve went to the father figure Swansea!’ No. She shouldn’t have. She went to someone authoritive instead. Because she wanted someone in charge. Swansea would’ve gone in rage and murdered jimmy which could’ve escalated everything. She mearly wanted it to be dealt with quietly, she either went to curly because of that or that he was the closest one to jimmy and wanted to figure out why. Even if anya didn’t trust curly she still would’ve went to him, because most of the time curly took charge and he ‘is responsible’ and he is the captain, and the captain takes care of his ship.

Swansea and Anya were relatively close, the game doesn’t go too far about their relationship but they care for one another. Anya was worried when Swansea started drinking the mouthwash and was visibly nervous showing that she cared for him. Swansea saw Anya as mature and later on when they were talking in the cockpit, Anya then revealed to him about the assault and they were close enough that Swansea believed her. Anya only told Swansea when all hope was lost and they were in a bad situation she then told Swansea who was visibly upset and having a tight grip on his axe when jimmy came in. Meaning he did escalate when he found out but kept cool because of Anya. Most believably Swansea would be the one ranting his ear off to Anya and complaining. But he saw something off about Anya and sat his ass down and listened to her, and despised Jimmy. And most probably comforted her after she started crying.

Daisuke and Anya are close as they are the youngest on the ship, Anya could admire how young and youthful he is. As daisuke and Anya share sticky notes with drawings on them. And Anya cherishes them and puts them on a cork board in the med bay, they also occasionally play a board game and Anya gets quite competitive. They share a little brother and big sister relationship and daisuke is very worried when Anya locked herself in med bay and is confused and oblivious and wants to ignore what she could do. As he was the only one on the tulpar who didn’t know about the incident and was kept in the shadows by Anya wanting to protect his innocence that she lacked. Anya hated her youthfulness, while daisuke loved his and it was his personality. As possibly jimmy r*ped her because he saw her as a fragile thing and youthful. Anya and Swansea both probably agreed on having daisuke being the one saved instead of him or Anya. And daisuke is pressured by jimmy to ‘save’ Anya/mostly curly and instead of jimmy going to save her himself he mearly didn’t care. Daisuke cared deeply about Anya and is horrified when he stumbled upon her body.

Death

Anyas death is expected in their situation, she wouldn’t want to put a baby through this world to suffer. Which explains why she said ‘I’ll take care of it’ it, referring to the baby in her stomach and referring to jimmy telling that same line to her. Ironic. She possibly knew she would’ve died eventually, as giving birth in space while the risk of jimmy being onboard would be very risky. She is the only medical personal on the ship, and she cant abort it safely. she chose to die willingly rather than make her baby suffer. She cared for the child even though it led to her demise and the crashing of the ship. Eight months pregnancies are usually eight months. Carrying a baby in an unsafe environment and being forced to be with her r*pist. She locked herself in medical and took the pills because it was the swiftest way to death. She locked herself with curly as she trusted him. Even is he was an enabler and let everything happen. She still saw him as captain and didn’t consider Jimmy as captain and saw him as someone she could go to. Even in death. Curly saw everything. And decided to not take action. So he saw everything and was unable to take any action.

Thx for reading pls tell me who u want next!! :)