#there are no flaws in this plan. everything will be totally fine.

[ideas-on-paper]

The Geth

My favorite race from Mass Effect by far are the Geth (although I think this should be obvious from the huge amount of lore analyses I wrote about the Geth in general and Legion specifically ^^') - as many people already said, they are extremely interesting because of how unique they are, not only among the other Mass Effect races, but among robots in sci-fi in general.

However, my own love for the Geth goes down to a much deeper level - strange as that may sound, they resonate so much with me because I personally identify with them. Strive for understanding, valuing perspectives, and acceptance of differences are principles that are extremely important to me; at the same time, while I want to communicate with other people, what often hampers my desire to is 1) uncertainty of how to go about it (because autism) and 2) fear of being betrayed, rejected, or disappointed (because of past experiences).

I can see so much of myself in Legion and the Geth - my wishes, my dreams, everything I've ever longed for, but also my flaws and shortcomings.

The Geth's relationship to the Quarians is also very interesting. It may not be very overt, but there's definitely a lot more to it than you would expect from "logical thinking" machines. I'm not sure if I would go so far as to call it "emotions", but the Geth definitely have their own desires that grew from their personal development. (I did want to do an extra analysis about this too, at some point.)

On that note, the Heretics are extremely interesting - they may seem like your standard "all organics must die" robots at the first glance, but after taking a closer look at them, they seem more like realists that got disillusioned because their ideals of peace proved to be impossible.

Idk if this is a bit of a stretch, but I cannot shake the feeling that the Geth's story is, in essence, centered around the notion of being abandoned by god. The Quarians, their "gods", literally told them "we do not love you, and you're nothing more than a tool to us", and being confronted with this reality, they're desperately trying to move on from them and find their own way. Still, they cannot fully sever the attachment that they have to the Quarians - the Heretics may have even taken to revering Sovereign as a gesture to abjure their own "loveless gods". (The irony being, of course, that Sovereign doesn't hold any more love to them; actually, it's interesting how many "loveless gods" Mass Effect has, since you can not only apply this to the Geth -> Quarians and the Heretics -> Sovereign, but also to the other galactic races -> the Protheans.) I can relate very well to this situation of being "left alone", too, as well as how hard it is to find your own path.

Legion's individuality is a difficult topic; I will say that there are some hints that the devs planned for Legion to develop individuality early on, although whether this was Chris L'Etoile's idea or someone else's is difficult to say.

I personally prefer using they/them pronouns for Legion out of respect for their gestalt nature, but I'm totally fine with people calling Legion he/him, too. (As for Legion themselves, I feel like they'd probably be pretty neutral about it.)

That being said, on a personal level, whether Legion is an individual or not doesn't matter all that much too me - I fully accept them as a collective consciousness, but if they're developing individuality, who am I to forbid them? I don't "need" Legion to be either for me, and I'll love them all the same.

The Morning War

Naturally, since the Geth are my "special interest", I have always been curious about the Morning War - the thing is, while we know how it started and what the result of it was, the overall course of it is very hazy. (Unfortunately, this has led some people to very biased conclusions about it, to say the least.)

Although it may not have started in the most... pleasant way (essentially, I wanted to prove that it's possible to interpret the war in a way that doesn't absolve the Geth of killing 99% of the Quarian population and still keeps the plot about Quarian rebels fighting alongside the Geth as canon), the Morning War is a puzzle that I've started to really enjoy figuring out, so much so that I developed an entire fanfiction concept around it, complete with OCs. xD

In any fandom, I always tend to be intrigued most by the parts of the lore that are there, but that I can't see, and I love filling these gaps with my own imagination. Plus, I kinda have a thing for morally complex war dramas. xD

Pre-Morning War Quarian culture

This sort of happened as a "side effect" of my interest in the Morning War, but everything related to Pre-Morning War Quarian society and culture absolutely fascinates me. How does it differ from Migrant Fleet-era culture? What traces of it remain? How did it evolve with the Quarians' exile and them exclusively living in spaceships? (I'm super interested in how real-life cultures evolve and change with different influences, so this largely comes from my general passion for history. ^^)

Given the Geth and their ancestor VI databanks, the Quarians must've had impressive technology, so what was that like? The introduction of the Geth must've had a huge impact on Quarian economy and society, so what did daily life look like for them? Were there people who were disadvantaged due to these technological advancements? What were the philosophical takes on the Geth and the ancestor VIs? Were the Quarians really trying to secretly (and illegally) create true AIs of their ancestors, as it's implied by the Codex? They couldn't have kept this a secret from the Citadel Council forever, so how were they planning to deal with the consequences? What were the Quarians' relationships and interactions with other species like? And was their "utopia" really just a golden veneer, with lots of ugliness behind it?

I love thinking about this stuff, and it's very much going to feature in the fanfic that I'm developing as well. ;-)

The AIs

One thing I think is really interesting about the AIs in general - which goes for both EDI and the Geth - is that you can clearly tell how much they take after their creator species: EDI relies a lot on Shepard's guidance throughout ME3 and very actively inquires about human behavior, eventually adopting human ideals - such as humanity and individuality - as her own. As for the Geth, I did an analysis before where I talked about how many similarities they share with the Quarians, if you look closely.

Ironically though, this difference also limits Legion and EDI's understanding of each other. While they are very supportive of each other (both of them are AIs, after all), you can tell that Legion has trouble understanding EDI's perspective and her decisions. Similarly, there are instances of EDI severely misunderstanding the Geth in ME3, saying that consensus is "enforced" among the Geth, which is just... factually not true. (The very essence of the consensus is that the Geth won't make a decision unless every program agrees to it.) At one point, she even postulates that the Geth turned on the Quarians because "they didn't make them enough like them", since AIs with individuality develop stronger preferences/attachments to their creator species. (First off, for reasons cited above, I think this claim is wrong, and second, wouldn't "stronger preferences" potentially result in AIs being racist against species other than their creators?)

While I don't agree with EDI's assessment, all of this wonderfully shows how every sentient AI will not only inherit the morals and values of its creator species, but also their flaws and biases. EDI is an AI made by humans, so of course she would place greater value on individuality - naturally, this standpoint also influences her judgments.

My personal takeaway from this is that you have to be mindful of what you teach your AIs (which very much goes for real-life AIs as well) - if you teach an AI to lie and cheat, you can be sure that no good things will come of it if it ever gains sentience.

The Reapers

Seeing the reblogs, I also want to join @average-mako-enjoyer in saying that I'm actually quite fascinated by the Reapers' way of thinking/their worldview.

I have my own headcanons on them that slightly verge on AU territory, but I like to imagine that their role is to keep the galaxy, as a system, from clogging. In that, their function is similar to that of a virus in biological systems: Viruses sort of work like nature's "population control" when a species grows too much in numbers, and as such, they actually restore balance to the ecosystem.

However, in advanced civilizations, these "natural regulations" basically get deactivated - as a rule, nature is not too fond of monocultures (which is why they are so prone to diseases), and if you look at history, all great empires have a tendency to eventually fall. If you take this concept and apply it on a galactic level - that the dominance of singular advanced species will eventually result in a catastrophic system collapse - the Reapers might actually act as the "housekeepers" of the galaxy, restoring balance to the system as a whole by taking advanced races "out of the game" and giving others a chance to grow (or at least they see themselves that way).

In contrast to a normal virus, however, the harvested species technically remain alive - they just get "elevated" to a different level, so the Reapers' strategy is essentially "lossless" (which the Reapers are probably pretty proud of, I reckon).

I always wanted to write a more in-depth post about this (since it also plays into my concept of an "extended Refuse ending"), but haven't gotten around to it so far. ^^'

Lore topics I enjoy thinking about for Mass Effect Trilogy Week:

Biotics: I remember countless conversations about biotics that made me look at the wiki to check my information, replay parts of the game and in general pay attention to how it all works out. I still think there are many things about them that I don't understand right now, and that's why I love it. It makes you think! Each species will deal with it in a different way too, they have their own history with their biotics and how they use them. For humans, L2 biotics like Kaidan are always a source of wonder to me. Sure, you can picture a badass biotic like Aria and 100% she showed extreme power during the Omega DLC so that's really fascinating to me as well, but to have those implants and to be able to master Reave?! I also think the lore is not... as solid as it could be regarding how each species treats their biotics. It sometimes feels like a bit of a X-Men situation (they're different, others fear them, possible medical issues...) but it's like the writers don't want to deal with the full implications. And I really wish we could have seen a bit more artistic/cultural displays of biotics. Btw, my biotic sports headcanons are here

Lifespan: I love that each species has a different lifespan and that it really shows in how they live their lives. An asari will not look at their youth like a salarian. Honestly, I'm mad at myself because someone wrote about this in the tag and made a good commentary on it and I can't find the post again. It was about how salarians process thoughts and feelings compared to other species. I hope I can find it soon, and if so I'll reblog it. It's always a fascinating topic!

Artificial intelligence: Geth, EDI and other AIs like SAM are what I mean here. I really do think the topic of designing your own platform should come out more in this universe. I've said it a billion times before but I really want EDI to design her own platform. And I really have no answer, but I have found that all the meta about Legion was always thought-provoking. Was does individuality mean? Does Legion need individuality? Does he need to say "I" or was he better as a collective, as something "other" that was just fine as it was, but we humans just find more meaning in him becoming an individual? Even the words I use here, I'm fully aware I use "he" all the time when refering to Legion, and sometimes I wonder if that's good or not. I don't know. 

Justice system: I've made one big post about it (9 years ago haha), but I really find the Spectres fascinating, as well as each species' version of judges/soldiers/spies/agents/workers etc. And prisons.

The trade language: EVERYWHERE in the game and we have so little information compared to the Quarian's language???

And my favorite lore: everything related to the krogan. I really think it ties to what Bakara says about being her Shaman's initiation being a brutal one "But an illuminating one. You learn to appreciate the light by living in the dark."  I love that their species not because they're perfect but because they're imperfect in a way that speaks to me. They understand despair, the deepest kind. They understand anger. And they're constantly underestimated. But I find a lot of beauty, joy and humor in them. I also love that they're rarely lying or playing games, they will tell you the honest truth and you either take it or leave it.

Will be happy to know your favorite parts of the lore!!!

[wolfeyedwitch]

bailey what if everything was just an elaborate ploy from your whumper to get back at you. the heroes were all contracted. none of it is real

(rate this fear :)) )

Bailey shakes their head almost before you finish speaking.

"No." Their smile is bitter-bright. "Any other team, I might believe that, but not this one. Not here. Not... not Icarus."

That's why they'd come to these heroes in particular, after all. Would it have been less risky to go to another team? Absolutely. Picking the team of heroes that not only included the hero they'd most often fought, but the one they had hospitalized, felt much like handing them a scalpel and drawing a line to show them where exactly to cut. But this, this question, hit right on the reason they'd chosen to come to these heroes.

Bailey can't trust their own judgment. They have done so much wrong, things they can't even begin to make amends for. Who better to trust than the people who fought the hardest against them?

(And anyway. Icarus is owed his pound of flesh.)

---

5/10. Scary but manageable.

Taglist:

@heathenville @nonbinary-disaster @kim-poce @whump-world 

@dolls-circus @pickleking8 @ghostfacepepper @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @extemporary-whump @whumpwillow 

@multiple-characters1-acct @sunflower1000 @fleur-alise @equestrianwritingsstuff @scp-1296 

@livingforthewhump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @suspicious-whumping-egg @kaiwewi @lelly-belly 

@neuro-whump @newbornwhumperfly @whumpthisway @whumpcreations @wicked-whump 

@heart4brains @myhusbandsasemni @how-to-be-a-hero @kixngiggles @kurochan 

@whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @pattonvirglsanders @neverthelass @we-write-as-one 

@elrysdoesstuff @whumperflies-and-roses @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @ramadiiiisme 

@towerlesskey @emmanemanemm @pigeonwhumps @whumpycries

[whytheylosttheirminds]

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

❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️ (part one here!)

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

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

(taglist for this series is closed. please see author's notes at the end of the chapter for important info about the taglist!)

Somewhere between his house and yours it dawned on Rafe, much to his annoyance, that he had a big, stupid crush on you.

He tried everything to suppress it. He reminded himself that you didn't like him, that you probably thought you were better than him. He reminded himself how stupid it’d be to get attached to someone only a few months before graduation. 

Jesus, really man? He thought. She’s not your type, Rafe. She hates you. Be a fucking man and pull it together.

But it was the way you were perched in the driver’s seat, scooted all the way forward leaving no room between you and the wheel, smiling as you sang along to Mariah Carey. You looked so soft and cute, the sleeves of his hoodie slipping over your hands as they clutched the steering wheel.

Fuck, he definitely had a crush on you, and he hated having a crush. There was way too much room for rejection. This was one area in which he’d never really grown up, so he opted for his usual defense mechanism - pushing your buttons, like he was ten years old on the playground, pulling your pigtail just to get a reaction.

“So was I right about you not having many hookups in college?” He blurted out sometime during the third play of All I Want for Christmas is You.

Your head snapped toward him, complete confusion and not even a smidge of amusement on your face.

“What the fuck?” You grumbled. “That’s kinda personal, actually…”

“I’m just saying, I’ve never seen you at parties, and you don’t seem to have a boyfriend. Four years is a long time…”

“Everything is about sex with you, huh? Some of us are actually in college to learn,” you scolded him. It was his intention to push you away, and yet the repulsion in your voice still stung.

“Alright, I’ll stop asking,” he conceded.

“Good,” you huffed, shoulders slumping a little.

He looked over at you every so often, determined to find a flaw, some blemish or ick that he could use as a dealbreaker. This plan backfired terribly, his eyes only discovering more pretty features and cute little mannerisms that made his stomach leap every time he looked at you. He felt like a moth, brainless and hopelessly drawn to the warm light of a lamp that was sure to zap him dead at the slightest touch.

After twenty minutes of freezing him out for his “no hookups” comment, you gasped and excitedly pointed out the first of many road signs for your hometown, your annoyance with him replaced with excitement as the signs advertised you were getting closer and closer to home. 

Then you finally gave him something to resent you for. After a remark about how excited you were to see your family, you looked over at him with big, kind eyes, nervously broaching the topic with a light touch on his arm, “I’m sorry about your family leaving you behind. That totally sucks.”

There was a softness in your tone that was so warm and inviting it made him want to jump out of the moving car. He knew he was fucked up for being mad that you were being nice, but he couldn’t help it, the tenderness in your gaze made him feel like a wounded puppy, and he hated your pity.

He pulled his arm away from your gentle fingers like they’d hurt him.

“I’m fine,” he snapped. “They didn’t leave me, it was just a miscommunication.”

You withdrew in more ways than one, pulling your hand back and falling awkwardly silent. Rafe kicked himself mentally, of course just when you’d started to come around to him, he pushed you away. Little did those girls in your dorm know, that was the true Rafe Cameron special.

“So, uh, you were saying something about presents for your brothers? How old are they?” He asked, praying he hadn’t made you shut down for good, trying to re-stoke the fires of the friendship you had been building since you offered for him to come home with you.

You were chewing on your nails, picking at the dead skin nervously. At his prompting you started to speak again, though a bit less enthusiastically than before he’d shut you down.

“Uhm, well,” you sat up a little. “There’s Luke, he’s sixteen. And then Reese is thirteen and Bennett is ten.”

“Fun ages,” he nodded, wincing at his cliché words.

“They are fun,” you nodded, a smile returning to your lips at the thought of your little brothers. The sight of you smiling again soothed the ache in his chest and he leaned back into his seat, full of relief.

“Luke is such a teenage boy, too cool for everything. I got him some Nike cleats because he plays football, he’ll pretend he doesn’t like them but I think he’ll wear them. And Reese is quieter, he’s always been a bit more sensitive. He wants to be a photographer, so I got him a vintage Polaroid camera. Benny was the easiest to shop for,” you smiled at the thought of your baby brother, Rafe could tell you had a special love for him. “I got him one of those giant gummy bears that comes in its own plastic case. It cost a fraction of what I spent on the other two but I guarantee you he’ll be the most excited.”

“I’m sure they’ll all like what you got them,” he assured you.

“They better, they cost me a whole paycheck,” you huffed, thinking of all the hours you’d worked slinging drinks at your college’s go-to student bar to pay for the presents that were currently sitting in your trunk.

“It’s better than what I got my sisters,” he reminded you with a laugh.

“Hey! I spent six whole dollars on those souvenirs!” You scolded him, smiling at the memory of the crappy little knick-knacks in the backseat.

“And I’m sure they’ll love them,” he agreed.

“What about your sisters? How old are they?” You asked.

Surely, you were just being polite, keeping the conversation going after he’d asked about your brothers. But he wanted nothing less than to talk about his family right now, the thought of them all hanging out at the Bahama house, completely forgetting that he existed, still stung fresh. He wondered if Sarah and Wheezie even asked his dad where he was, why he wasn’t on the plane. Maybe they were relieved to celebrate the holiday without him annoying them, he probably deserved it. 

“Hey, isn’t that your exit?” He pointed at the highway sign, advertising that the off ramp to your hometown was only half-a-mile away, trying to distract you from your question.

“Yes!” It worked, you sat up in your seat, excitedly pressing a little harder on the gas as you celebrated the proximity to home.

“Woah, slow down, I’d like to celebrate Christmas alive,” he joked as the needle on the speedometer climbed higher and higher.

“Oh shit sorry,” you giggled, pulling your foot back to slow down a little. “I’m just excited. It’s gonna be so cozy. My dad will have put a bunch of colored lights all over the front of the house, and the tree will be up, probably a fire going and Christmas music playing. I can’t wait to see them!”

His jealousy was almost debilitating. What must it be like to feel this excited to go home? To know what was waiting for you was going to bring you so much joy? He wanted what you had so badly, he was tempted to reach out and touch you just to see if he could absorb your happiness by osmosis.

The little town you called home was just as small as Rafe was picturing, if not more. Though, the tiny houses lining the main street were decked to the nines with Christmas decorations, so much merriment in such a tiny little hamlet. The further into the country you drove, green street signs giving way to rickety, hand-painted ones, the more he felt like he understood you.

You smiled at all the lights, body absolutely buzzing with each turn that brought you towards home. Finally, you turned on a long dirt road, past a field of horses Rafe recognized as the farm you said you grew up next to. Approaching a mailbox with your last name on it, your smile fell from your lips, eyebrows creasing as you turned onto the property.

At the end of the long driveway was a small little split level home Rafe surmised to be yours, only where he expected a display of twinkling christmas decor, there was only one single flickering porch light. If he hadn’t known better, he’d assume the family who lived here didn’t celebrate Christmas at all.

“What the hell?” You mumbled under your breath, concern on your face growing as you pulled the car up and parked behind an old, rusting mini-van. 

Arms full of presents, Rafe helping with your bags, you stumbled anxiously through the front door. The inside of your house was just as disappointing as the outside. It was messy, dishes on the counter and the echo of obnoxious video games ringing through the halls where there should be the familiar chatter of your family having dinner.

“Hello?” You called out, setting the presents down on the kitchen table. You peaked your head over the island, into the open space of the living room. In the far corner, where there should’ve been a Christmas tree, there was a pile of unfolded laundry. 

Two messy headed boys peered over the back of the couch, the third head not moving from its fixation on the TV as his fingers continued to click away on his controller.

“Gigs!!” The smallest one, who Rafe assumed to be Bennett, shouted, he and the second smallest, who he identified as Reese, rose from the couch and made their way towards you.

“Gigs?” Rafe repeated under his breath.

“As in Giggles. It’s my childhood nickname,” you explained, and when you saw his teasing smirk added, “shut up.”

Reese and Bennett nearly tackled you, colliding into you with little bear hugs. Reese was nearing your height, though not quite there yet, and Bennett was small but stocky, his chubby arms squeezing the air from your lungs.

“Rice and beans!” You sang affectionately as you returned their hugs, messing up their hair and pinching their cheeks. You looked to Rafe to answer the question you could see already forming on his lips, “rice and beans, as in Reese and Bennett, their nicknames.”

He smiled at your affectionate embrace with your brothers, nodding with a little, “ah.” Something in him ached, like a haunted limb, a muscle he didn’t even have that was sore from lack of use.

After several moments, Bennett pulled away, eyeing Rafe and pointing a stubby little finger right at him, “who’s he?”

Reese covered his brother’s finger, forcing his hand down correctively.

“Benny, that’s rude,” you said, unable to suppress the little chuckle at your brother’s boyish indifference.

In your concern over the state of the house, you hadn’t planned out how to explain Rafe to your brothers. ‘He’s a friend’ wasn’t totally accurate, but it was the only language they’d understand. Before you could open your mouth to explain anything, though, your youngest brother blurted out, “are you Giggy’s boyfriend?”

“Bennett Alan,” you snipped at him through gritted teeth, giving him a motherly glare as you used his full name in warning. “You’re being rude, and he is not my boyfriend.”

This was true, though Rafe wasn’t sure there was any need for the tinge of disgust in the way you said it. He could sense Bennett formulating another pot-stirring question and jumped in before he had the chance.

“I’m Rafe,” he set his bag down next to the counter and held out a hand. 

Bennett puffed out his chest, putting on his best adult voice as he shook Rafe’s hand, “I’m Bennett, my friends call me Benny.”

You and Reese gave each other knowing smirks, sharing eye rolls over your brother’s precocious antics. 

“And which should I call you?” Rafe played along with his all-business tone.

“Depends, how much money you got?”

Rafe smirked, but you were mortified. “Oh my god, Beans! You can’t ask people that. Here, make yourself useful and put these presents under the tree.”

“We don’t have one,” Reese told you, the first words Rafe had heard him speak, and by his quiet tone and the way he avoided eye contact he understood why you’d called him the sensitive one.

Rafe caught the way you allowed worry to flash across your face for only a second before you smoothed your features back into faux nonchalance, like you were putting on a show for the kids.

“Oh okay, well then I guess we’ll just leave them on the table,” you shrugged, as if you hadn’t been raving about your family’s grand Christmas trees just minutes ago.

Your eyes drifted back to the living room, where your remaining brother still hadn’t risen to greet you.

“Lukey? Help me with my bags?” 

The shaggy haired boy finally turned, eyeing Rafe with a cold distrust that felt like looking in a mirror.

“Looks like he’s already got ‘em,” he grumbled.

You gave him an authoritative glare that had much less playfulness than the one you’d given Bennett.

“Where are mom and dad?” You asked Reese in a hushed tone, shielding the question from Bennett, who was busy dragging a chair over from the kitchen table.

“It’s Thursday,” Reese responded, giving you a knowing look like you should know what that meant. When you clearly didn’t, he added, “chemo day,” in a whisper so quiet Rafe could barely hear it. “Mom’s been asleep since they got back and dad had to work the evening shift.”

Rafe did hear though, and your eyes flicked to him quickly with a vulnerability he hadn’t seen from you yet, like he somehow had something to hold over your head now. He wanted to say the exact right thing to put you at ease, to let you know your family’s business was safe with him. As he was formulating the words, Benny was climbing up on the chair he’d dragged over, standing directly between you and Rafe.

“How tall are you?” Benny asked Rafe once he could meet his eyeline.

“Uhm,” Rafe cleared his throat, pulled from the moment, “I’m 6 '2.”

“I’m 4 foot 1 and three quarters,” Benny explained, as though if this were a competition, he was just a few points behind Rafe, and gaining.

“Nice! 4 '1 is very respectable,” Rafe smiled, deciding it was best to be on Benny’s good side.

“And three quarters,” Benny corrected through gritted teeth.

“Right, sorry, and three quarters,” Rafe put his hands up in defense.

Benny crossed his arms and gave Rafe a once over, as if he was the man of the house deciding if he was allowed to stay. 

Sensing your brother was about to say some other rude thing to embarass you, you stepped in, “Benny why don’t you go show our guest where we keep the air mattress,” you grabbed him off the chair and lowered him to the ground with some difficulty, “and be nice,” you added in his ear.

Benny obeyed but gave Rafe narrow, suspicious eyes the whole way down the hall.

“There’s like a thirty percent chance Benny tries to fight him,” Reese noted as the two of you watched them go.

You chuckled, settling on the couch between your two brothers.

“So who is he really?” Luke asked, still not pausing his video game but at least acknowledging your existence. 

“He’s just a guy from school,” you shrugged. “He’s Brody’s friend.”

“Is Brody here?” Reese asked hopefully. You and Brody had been friends your whole childhoods, and your brother’s were always big fans.

“No, he had an internship or something, but I’d already told Rafe I’d give him a ride, and when we got to his house his family was just, like, gone,” you explained. “They went on a trip and didn’t even tell him.”

“Yikes,” Luke said. “That’s shitty.”

“Language,” you scolded, making him roll his eyes. “But yes, it is shitty,” you added, making him smirk. 

“He’s like Kevin from Home Alone,” Reese quipped. All three of you laughed.

“Honestly? It was kind of exactly like that, only sadder. Like a lost puppy. I mean, who just forgets their kid?” You lowered your voice a bit, hoping it wouldn’t carry down the hall. “I felt so awkward I didn’t know what to do so I said he could come here.”

Your brothers seemed satisfied with your explanation. Even though nothing you said was technically untrue, you still felt like you were somehow being dishonest. You’d never admit it, but it wasn’t all out of pity, there was some small part of you that wanted to bring Rafe home, that was intrigued by him and wanted to see more. But there was no way to explain that to two teenage boys, so you settled for the Home Alone excuse.

Benny came back around the corner, leaping onto the couch and nearly knocking over Luke’s soda.

“Beans, chill,” Luke groaned as he narrowly caught his Mountain Dew before it spilled all over the coffee table.

“Where’s Rafe?” You asked Benny, looking around to see if he’d followed your brother back out.

“He said to tell you he’s going to bed, he seemed kinda grumpy,” Benny shrugged, stealing Luke’s soda when he wasn’t paying attention and taking a swig.

“Oh,” you said, trying to hide the hint of disappointment in your voice. “Okay.”

Down the hall, Rafe snuck quietly into the laundry room as the fading voices of you and your brothers were drowned out by the sound of the water heater, which sat in the cramped space right next to the air mattress Benny had helped him set up.

Your voice echoed in his head, ‘I felt so awkward I didn’t know what to do.’ 

So it was a pity invite. You saw him as some sad character from a 90s movie, not an actual companion you wanted to spend the holiday with. 

He settled on the uncomfortable inflatable mattress. He was in a house full of people, and yet he was beginning to think he might actually feel less lonely all by himself in Tannyhill.

Up before the sun, out the door before breakfast’s done; that’s the way your dad had been your whole life, working a string of manual labor, blue collar jobs that meant he was usually gone before you woke up.

This morning however, you were determined to talk to him before he left, to confront him about the complete lack of Christmas you’d found at your homecoming. You set your alarm at an ungodly hour so you could wait for him to come down the stairs.

Hunched over the counter by the brewing coffee pot, you ran your hands over your face. Your holiday homecoming was nothing like you imagined, the biggest surprise of all being the person you came home with, but you’d figure out how to broach that subject later.

“Hi Gigs.” Your dad’s footsteps were so quiet, you hadn’t heard him enter the kitchen. When you turned to meet him, he flashed you a tired grin.

He’d gotten home after you went to sleep last night, this was the first you’d seen him since your anticlimactic arrival. He looked more exhausted than you ever remembered seeing him. Even more tired than after Bennett was born and he had colic for six months.

“Hi dad,” you approached and gave him a hug before returning to the coffee pot to pour some for him in a travel mug.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked.

“A lot on my mind,” you said, turning to face him. “Made you some coffee. If you stay and talk to me I might just be persuaded to make you breakfast.”

Your dad slumped into a chair at the kitchen table, pulling on and lacing up his heavy work boots.

“No time for breakfast,” he waved you off. “You know that.”

“Dad, what’s going on?” You asked, knowing your window to get answers was closing quickly.

But he didn’t answer, he just sighed heavily and shook his head, avoiding your gaze.

“Just not a breakfast guy that’s all,” he joked. You knew he knew that’s not what you meant.

“You didn’t even hang any lights,” you mumbled softly, feeling a bit childish. “And there’s no tree.”

Your dad sighed again. You wondered if there was a record for how many times someone could sigh in one conversation.

“I’ve been working double shifts, there just hasn’t been time. I’m sorry,” he shrugged. “It’s been a long year, kid.”

“Why didn’t you tell me it’s gotten so bad? I would’ve come back sooner,” you said, pulling a side eye from him that you read as: and that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.

“I don’t know, why didn’t you tell me about the frat boy in the laundry room?” He countered.

‘Oh, right,” you blushed, feeling like when you were twelve and he found you hiding a stray cat in the garage. “Was gonna mention him but, you know, you were working.”

“Could’ve told me you were bringing your boyfriend home,” he scolded you.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you rushed to explain. “He’s Brody’s friend. He needed a place to crash.”

“Ah, Brody’s friend. That makes me feel so much better,” he rolled his eyes. 

Your dad was never a fan of Brody, too much of a ‘knucklehead’ as he called him. You knew Rafe wouldn’t fare much better in your dad’s good graces, no guy you liked ever did. Not that you liked Rafe. Fuck, your blush was getting deeper. You quickly looked down at your feet, hoping your dad wouldn’t notice. 

Luckily, he was too tired to read your facial expressions, he huffed as he rose from his chair and approached you, digging in his pocket for some cash. “Here, grab a tree and some gifts for the boys -”

“You haven’t even gotten them gifts yet?” You sighed.

“I know, I know,” he nodded, his baggy, tired eyes begging you for a little slack. You’d never seen him look so tired, sympathy overpowering your disappointment. “I’m trying here, gigs.”

“I got it,” you gave him a small, dutiful smile and pocketed the cash.

“I knew you would,” he gave you a side hug and accepted the travel mug of coffee you handed him. “I’m sorry things aren’t exactly what you expected. but I am glad you’re home.”

As he slipped out the front door into the chilly dusk, your mind spiraled. You knew your mom was having a rough patch with her breast cancer, but you had no idea it’d gotten this bad. No Christmas was simply not an option, maybe things would never go back to normal for you, or your parents, but that was adulthood wasn’t it? Your brothers shouldn’t have to grow up just yet, and you’d make sure they didn’t.

Everything felt wrong, off kilter in a way that made your stomach twist with the familiar anxiety that comes with any situation you can’t control. So you did what you always do when things feel uncertain; you made a list.

Pulling a notebook from the kitchen junk drawer, you uncapped a pen and quickly scribbled everything you could think of that needed to be done:

Decorations 

⇢ box in garage? lights working?

Presents for the boys 

⇢ wishlists? budget??

Buy and decorate tree 

 ⇢ Douglas Fir? tree lots still open?

Under each item you scribbled all the steps you could think of, as well as any conflicts you might hit along the way. Maybe if you could just work the problem, you could fix this, save Christmas and by extension, your family.

You eyed the empty checkboxes next to each item with worry. If you were going to pull all of this off in just two days, you’d need to call in some reinforcements. 

The door to the laundry room squeaks if you open it slowly, which you did deliberately, milking it for all the disruptive sound it’s worth. Rafe was sprawled out on the air mattress, which had deflated just a bit in his sleep, making his legs stick up in the air a little higher than his upper body. 

He was snoring away, just like he had in the car, your noisy opening of the door not doing what you’d hoped it would. 

You sighed loudly, he didn’t stir. You cleared your throat, still nothing. You coughed theatrically, he was still out cold.

Finally, you opened the lid to the washing machine, taking off one sock and dropping it in, letting the heavy metal lid slam closed as you started a rinse cycle. At the crash, Rafe shot up, nearly falling off the air mattress.

“Oh good, you’re up!” You chirped, as if you hadn’t caused the sudden awakening.

“What the hell are you doing?” He grumbled at you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His hair stuck up at all angles and he squinted, barely able to open his eyes in his exhaustion. You gave yourself one second to think about how cute he looked before redirecting your focus to the reason you were in here.

“Just doing some laundry,” you told him as he reached around in the dimly lit room for his phone. “But since you’re awake...”

“What time is it?” He slurred, still half asleep.

“I dunno probably like 9,” you shrugged, knowing full well that wasn’t the case.

“I can’t find my phone,” he sunk back into the mattress, making like he was going to go back to sleep. That wouldn’t do.

“Oh, here!” You flicked on the fluorescent overhead light, making him wince and pull the covers over his head.

“Gah! Turn them off please!” He cried out, voice muffled from under the blankets.

“It’s time to get up, we have a big day ahead of us,” you walked over to the mattress, kicking it to jostle him around on the half-inflated plastic.

“I’m on vacation,” he protested. 

“Yes, exactly, Christmas vacation,” you walked around to the end of the bed, grabbing the covers in two hands and pulling them from his body, making him groan and curl up in the cold air like a rolly polly bug. “We have Christmas things to do.”

You tried not to notice the sculpted arms revealed by his grey tank top, and you really tried not to notice how the thin material of his flannel pajama pants was leaving very little to the imagination. He looked up after a moment, blinking his eyes open to catch you staring, his lips twisting in a cocky grin. He opened his mouth to say something smug and flirtatious, but before he could, his eyes caught the clock on the wall behind you.

“It’s 6am?!” He yelled.

“Oh is it?” You laughed, no longer trying to hide your scheme. “My bad, 6s and 9s look the same to me.”

Swiftly, Rafe stretched out his long leg, hooking his foot behind your knee and pulling you toward him, sweeping you off your feet and onto the mattress. A sharp “oof!” left your lips and as you crashed down onto what little air was left in the mattress to catch you. Landing hard, you immediately slid towards him, your body settling square on top of his.

“You wanna talk some more about 6s and 9s?” He grinned at you, his morning voice low and raspy in a way that sent goosebumps rushing up your spine.

“Ugh, you’re a pig!” You smacked him on the shoulder, pins and needles lingering in your hand where your skin had met his, and tried to push yourself up.

Wobbling on the plastic mattress, your attempts to get off of him only had you wriggling further down until your face was hovering over his. This was the closest you had ever been to him, suddenly noticing just how blue his eyes were. The glow of them under the fluorescents actually knocked the wind out of you, freezing your body in place over him as you took them in, feeling like you might drown in them if you stared too long, but letting the waves pull you under anyway.

“Morning,” he lips curved into a smile that was so handsome it almost made you forget your mission.

Grasping at your reason for coming in here like it was a lifeboat, you decided to use the compromising position you had him in to your advantage, leaning a little closer as you said, “I need you.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shot up in shock, was this really about to happen, right here in your parent’s laundry room?

“Oh yeah?” He flirted, muscles tensing in anticipation beneath you. “What do you need, hmm?”

“Just say yes and I’ll tell you,” you purposefully dropped your voice lower, adding a tinge of suggestion to your words to really bring it home.

“Anything,” he agreed, his mind five miles ahead of you in the wrong direction.

You sat up, straddling him, and pulled the list of tasks from your pocket.

“Great, get dressed, we’re leaving in five,” you smiled down at him, relishing the completely baffled look on his face. “We’re gonna save Christmas.”

“No, we don’t have time to stop, we gotta stick to the list,” you protested as Rafe turned the car off the road and pulled into a drive thru.

After tricking him into agreeing to help you, you’d rushed him through getting ready and out of the house, convinced the stores would be packed as soon as they opened. He dragged his feet the whole way, but somehow you’d managed to wrangle him into the car, insisting he drive so you could look through some catalogs to map out gifts for your brothers.

“If I have to be up at the asscrack of dawn, I’m getting coffee,” he shot you down.

“Okay, fine, but if we get there and all the good deals are gone, I’m blaming you,” you conceded.

You tapped your knee anxiously as the line of cars in the drive thru crawled like a herd of snails. Rafe watched your fingers strum out of the corner of his eye, noticing for the first time the way your nails were bitten down to the beds. He wasn’t paying much attention, but he was fairly sure they weren’t that messed up yesterday.

“What do you want to order?” He asked, unsure why but suddenly only caring about finding a way to distract you.

Without needing to look at the menu, you recited, “venti blonde americano with two extra shots of espresso and a splash, like a really small splash, of oat milk. Actually no oatmilk. And four shots.”

Rafe blinked back at you, your fidgety fingers lifted to your lips as you chewed on your cuticles.

Pulling up to the speaker, he leaned in and said, “yeah grande black coffee for me, and uh, a tall green tea please.”

“That is not what I ordered!” you snipped as he pulled forward to the first window.

“Yeah, I’m cutting you off,” he explained. “If I let you have any more caffeine, you won’t have any fingernails left.”

You dropped your hand quickly, surprised that he had noticed. You were miffed that he was denying you your coffee, but he was probably right. You took a deep breath and sipped your tea as he drove to the first stop on your list.

Somewhere along the highway, the radio jingled the familiar first notes of All I Want For Christmas is You. You sat up, excitedly reaching to turn the volume up.

“If I have to listen to this song one more time, I swear I’m gonna drive the car off this bridge,” he groaned, his hand covering yours to stop you from making his misery louder.

“Oh my god you’re so dramatic,” you raised your eyebrows, giving in and returning your hand to your lap. “She’s the queen of Christmas!”

“Please,” he gave you a pouty lip from the driver’s seat. “It’s killing me.”

“Okay, fine,” you laughed, rolling your eyes at him. “No more Mariah Carey.”

The department store parking lot was swarming with last minute shoppers. You hated that you belonged with them, punished for procrastination. Usually you did things early and thoroughly, now people would think you were one of the careless who pushed things to the last minute. It was a silly thing to worry about, but everything seemed to worry you today. You even made Rafe exchange phone numbers with you in case one of you got lost in the crowd and you couldn’t find each other. Your mind was running wild with worst case scenarios.

Rafe found a spot far from the door, as you walked towards the store’s entrance, you flipped through the catalog you’d snatched from your parent’s junkmail.

“Okay, so I circled everything that’s similar to what’s on the boys’ lists but on clearance,” you explained to him as he grabbed a cart, not fully listening to you. “We’ve got like fifty dollars for each of them, I think we can find a couple good things.”

Once inside the door, Rafe immediately grabbed a bag of chocolates off of the stocking stuffers display.

“That’s not on the list,” you reminded him, jaw dropping when he opened the bag and started eating the candy right there in the middle of the aisle. “And you didn’t pay for that!”

“Relax,” he held the bag out to you, “have some chocolate. Get into the Christmas spirit.”

“Since when are you the expert on the ‘Christmas spirit?’” You eyed him, noticeably not accepting a piece of his stolen candy. “You just threatened to throw Mariah Carey off a bridge.”

“No, I said I was gonna throw myself off a bridge if I had to listen to her one more time,” he placed his hand over his chest as if he was proving his innocence. “Besides, one of us has to have a little joy,” he noted, tilting his head a little to emphasize his point.

He was right, you were stressing a little too much. If Rafe Cameron was out-Christmasing you, then clearly you needed an attitude adjustment. 

“You’re right,” you sighed, accepting one of his chocolates and popping it in your mouth as you looked around the store to map out your shopping plan. “Alright, aisle ten for Reese’s camera lens and then aisle four for Benny’s lego-”

Your sentence was cut short at the feeling of Rafe’s thumb on the corner of your mouth, his face cool and casual as the pad of his finger ran across your lip. Your eyes shot around, there were at least a dozen people in this section, all close enough to see him circling your mouth with his finger.

Before you could push him off, not that you really wanted to, he pulled back. You stumbled a bit, subconsciously chasing the feeling of his touch. He revealed his thumb to you, he’d collected a little glob of chocolate that had smeared around your mouth.

“You’re gonna get us caught for our little shoplifting scheme,” he joked, licking the chocolate off the pad of his thumb as if it were the most normal thing in the world, and not an incredibly sensual action for a fluorescent lit department store at 7am.

“W-we are not shoplifting,” you stammered, fighting speechlessness and praying he didn’t notice the way your cheeks were burning. “You better pay for those.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed. I’ll pay for them, I promise. But if I forget, I’m saying you took them.” He dropped the chocolates into the cart before you could protest and wheeled toward the first aisle on your list, making you scurry a bit to catch up with his long legs.

“Bastard,” you mumbled, still feeling flustered.

Somewhere between the frozen food section and the office supplies aisle, you actually started having fun. 

Your cart filled slowly, the rush you were in when you entered the store slowing with every moment that passed walking around the store with Rafe. You joked about the hideous holiday decor, and the cheesy romance novel shelf. You stood on the back of the cart as he wheeled you around, nearly taking out a display of canned goods, and got a stern warning from a stock boy that sent you both into a fit of mischievous laughter. He tried on a series of truly awful hats for you, and even let you snap a few pictures.

As you laughed and shopped together, you couldn’t help but notice the cheery looks of the older ladies that passed you in the aisles. You returned their friendly glances with a blush, wondering, though it made you feel like a silly schoolgirl, if they thought Rafe was your boyfriend.

You’d remind yourself how foolish the thought was as you checked items off your list, seeing as this was not the real Rafe Cameron. The real Rafe Cameron wouldn’t be caught dead shopping for gardening gloves and barbeque tongs for your parents, he’d rather be pregaming a party or kicking the girl from last night who’s name he’d already forgotten out of bed. 

And yet, here he was, pushing the cart while you rattled on about Christmas when you were seven when it snowed so hard the power went out, the last time you remembered actually having a white Christmas. The way he nodded along intently had you actually wondering if it could be real, if being with him could be more than just a distraction from a stressful morning.

Your thoughts spiraled even further when he stopped to point out a his and hers sweater set, one reading “naughty” and the other “nice.”

“As long as I get to be the nice one,” you smiled as he pulled the itchy wool over his head.

He leaned down to tug its partner over your head, his voice low in your ear,  “Only ‘cause I know you like it when I’m naughty.”

Butterflies did pirouettes in your stomach, you snapped a picture of the two of you in a mirror, Rafe towering over you from behind as he smiled for the camera. 

“Yeah, we’re definitely buying these,” he said, tucking the tag into your collar, his knuckles ghosting over the skin of your neck.

After a few more shenanigans, you realized two hours had passed, and you still had several more items on your list.

“How about this? For your brothers?” Rafe asked, pointing out an Xbox in a display case. 

You snorted, “there’s no planet on which my brother’s would think that actually came from our parents. They’re still using an old PlayStation someone gave us years ago.”

“Well then I’ll get it for them, you can say it came from Santa,” he shrugged, as if the astronomical price tag below it didn’t even exist.

“Our Santa brings, like, socks and candy. He doesn’t have a black card,” you pulled his arm, guiding him to a cheaper aisle.

“And what does your Santa usually bring you?” He questioned, a not so subtle way to find out what you wanted for Christmas. 

“I don’t ask him for much,” you brushed the question off. “I just want my family all together.”

Rafe didn’t push any further, watching you out of the corner of his eye, realization dawning that you were serious, you actually didn’t expect to get any gifts for Christmas.

Not noticing his eyes on you, you scanned over everything in your cart, adding it up on your phone’s calculator for the hundredth time. You couldn’t remember a day in your life you weren’t worried about money. Every penny counts now more than ever with your mom not working and your dad unable to find a job that pays enough to keep everyone afloat without completely running himself into the ground.

Without realizing it, you brought your fingertips back to your mouth, biting your nails anxiously for the first time since Rafe had pointed out the bad habit several hours ago.

“Hey you know what?” Rafe said, and you were so lost in worried thoughts that you flinched at the sound of his voice. “Why don’t we split up to get the rest of the list? We’ll cover more ground that way. Also, I think I saw some fake trees on sale back there, so I can grab one.”

“Okay,” you agreed, feeling the little bubble of your flirty shopping spree pop. 

He was clearly ready to be done with this little excursion. But you’d had more fun than you thought you would, and there were still several days of break left to enjoy with him. You could feel the walls you’d so carefully built around your heart swaying just a little bit in his wind. The thought terrified and thrilled you all at the same time.

After collecting your half of the gift list, you searched the store for Rafe. You found him in the jewelry section, leaning against the glass display case. You made your way towards him, prepared to tease him for wasting time in a section that wasn’t on the list, before you saw his reason for being there. You stopped short, ducking behind an inflatable Santa to watch with a disappointed glare. 

He was chatting up a pretty sales girl, her store uniform fitted tightly as she smiled down at him, her cheeks rosy pink and pretty smile blindingly white.

Rafe gave her the charming grin you’d begun to hope he only reserved for you, probably drawling some cheeky compliments to cause her to blush in the way you surely did when he talked to you.

The feeling in your chest was unfamiliar, and painfully uncomfortable. Reluctantly, you identified it as jealousy. No, no, you were not jealous over this obnoxious frat boy, you wouldn’t allow yourself to be. That was not how you were gonna start your Christmas break.

Just as you’d resolved not to be jealous, he reached up and brushed his hand against the necklace she was wearing, admiring her jewelry surely just as an excuse to bring his hand close to her chest. She beamed at him, his attempts at flirting clearly working. 

A deep frown settled on your features. He was supposed to be shopping for your little brothers and instead he was feeling up a sales girl? You felt so delusional for thinking you’d misjudged him on the drive down. He was the same guy you thought he was when he showed up at your car yesterday, you should've trusted your gut.

Hoping he wouldn’t catch you watching, you turned quickly on your heel, beelining for check out.

Taking the bag from the sales girl with a wink, Rafe tucked the small item at the bottom of his cart, under the presents he’d collected for your brothers, and began searching for you in the crowded aisles, looking forward to the pleased look on your face when he informed you he’d found everything on his half of the list.

When he found you, you were already half way through checking out, loading items onto the belt and watching with tense shoulders as the total on the screen climbed higher and higher.

“What, were you gonna leave without me?” Rafe joked as he started adding his items to the belt.

“We’re on a schedule, we don’t have time to keep fucking around,” you grumbled. 

Rafe met eyes with the college-aged guy who was working as cashier, both of them flashing knowing smirks as if to say, “chicks, am I right, man?” Their boyish camaraderie made you even angrier. 

Once your cart was empty, you started to help Rafe empty his cart, but he jumped around to the front before you could, blocking your access.

“No, no, I got it,” he said nervously, his body blocking you from reaching into his cart.

Irritation crept up your chest, threatening to take over completely. You suddenly felt so petty and immature, like you were Benny’s age, knowing you were about to say something rude you’d later regret. 

“Fine!” You shoved the cash your dad had given you in Rafe’s hands, “I’ll just go pull the car around then.”

Rafe watched you leave through the store’s sliding glass doors, arms crossed as you exited to the parking lot, which was wet and slippery from the wintery sleet mix that had started falling at some point when you were in the store. You paused and huffed deeply, annoyed by the shift in weather, throwing the hood of your jacket up as you jogged across the lot to your car.

He had no idea what had changed in the thirty minutes you’d been shopping separately. There had been a moment earlier when he thought he’d finally won you over, and now you were back to treating him like he was the bane of your existence.

“This too?” The cashier asked, holding out the decorative mistletoe Rafe had thrown in the bottom of his cart, thinking he could work in some cheeky joke with you and get that perfect eye roll/reluctant smile expression you make that he’d become a little obsessed with.

“Yeah, sure, whatever man,” he agreed with a frown.

As promised, you brought the car around, giving Rafe the cold shoulder as you loaded the gifts into the trunk. When you got to the fake tree Rafe had snagged from the holiday section, you paused.

“What’s that?” You questioned him.

“A tree?” He snapped back. “I told you I was gonna grab one.”

“No,” you shook your head, “we have to get a real tree.”

Rafe looked up at the sky pointedly, the worsening weather causing shoppers around you to duck and run to their car to get out of the misery.

“Are you serious?” He grumbled. “What’s wrong with this one?”

“It just…it has to be real, okay?” You huffed. “I found the last tree lot in the county that still has Douglas Firs, so you can take this one back.”

“Why don’t we keep this one just in case you change your mind,” he suggested.

“Fine, keep it, but I’m not changing my mind,” you threw the box with the fake tree into the trunk and slammed it closed, nearly catching Rafe’s hand in the heavy door as you did.

You stomped around to the driver’s side, leaving Rafe to return the carts to the main entrance, his jaw clenched in frustration the whole way. What had started as disappointment in your change in demeanor had turned into full-on anger. He may not be your favorite person, but you weren’t the only one having a shitty Christmas, and he definitely didn’t think he deserved whatever the fuck this was.

“I’m telling you, it was veer left, not turn left!”

The windshield wipers were working overtime, squeaking against the glass as they tried and failed to keep the freezing rain out of your line of vision. You sat all the way forward in your seat to see through the watery streaks they left behind. You had pulled onto some muddy back road as Rafe read directions from the GPS, trying to find this obscure tree lot several miles outside of town.

“Veer left doesn’t make any sense, I know that road, it’s all factories and empty lots,” you waved him off.

“Okay, well it’s clearly not this road! Is this even a road? It’s like a fucking swamp out here, I don’t know how your tires are even still moving,” He argued back.

“Not everything around here is as nice here as it is in the Outer Banks, Rafe. We’re doing our best, sorry if we don’t meet Cameron standards,” you griped at him.

“Oh my god, that’s not what I meant, just admit you’re fucking lost,” he snipped back.

“I am not lost. It’s probably just taking me on a shortcut. The road will clear up any minute.”

As you said those fateful words, the road got even more unstable, dirt and gravel mixing with the precipitation to make what looked more like a vat of chocolate pudding than a road. 

Stubbornly, you accelerated, determined to get out of this patch of road and prove to him you were right. As you sped up, the steering wheel turned erratically under your hands, your tires skidding on the slippery road, eventually stopping movement at all.

“Hmm interesting,” Rafe quipped sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you try to navigate the situation you’d gotten yourself into.

“It’s fine, I just need to…” you accelerated more, your spinning back tire kicking up mud as it fought for forward motion.

“Stop, you’re gonna - “

POP! The car skidded forward violently just an inch before stopping altogether, the weight of it sinking underneath you as a loud whistling noise echoed from the rear tire.

“- blow your tire,” Rafe threw his hands up in exasperation as the low tire pressure light on your dash illuminated with a little ‘ding!’

You avoided his eyes, hands still clutching the steering wheel as you clenched your jaw in anger. 

“Thanks a lot,” you mumbled.

Rafe blinked at you in disbelief, jaw hanging slack. 

“Me?” He scoffed, looking around the car as if there was someone he could look to for confirmation that you were being insane. “How is this my fault?”

“You’re rushing me! I know how to drive on back roads but you were distracting me!” You were grasping at straws, you knew it, he knew it, but logic had flown out the window when the tire blew. 

Rafe just chuckled humorlessly, pinching the bridge of his nose, “let’s just call someone and -”

But you were already opening your door, booted foot landing with a squelch in the mud.

“What are you doing?” He called after you.

You leaned down to look at him through your cracked door, “never changed a tire before, rich boy?” With a smirk, you slammed the door in his face.

Scrambling in the mud behind you, Rafe tried to reason with you.

“It’s pouring, you’re gonna get sick! Please just let me call someone and we can get a tow home - ”

“We still have to get the tree,” you shut him down, loosening the spare tire from the back of the hatchback.

Rafe threw his hands out in disbelief, “you’re not serious right? You’re still trying to find this fucking farm that, I gotta tell you, I’m starting to think doesn’t even exist.”

“Yes,” you said simply, lowering the tire to the ground and pulling the lug wrench from the trunk.

“You might actually be the most stubborn, ridiculous person I’ve ever met. What is it about getting this tree?” He yelled over the steadily increasing rainfall. 

“Because, Rafe, I can!” You dropped the wrench in the mud and turned on him, tears stinging your eyes as you yelled, letting all your frustration out on this boy, who just yesterday was a stranger. “I can’t get my dad a better job, and I can’t buy my brothers the presents the really want, and I can’t cure fucking cancer! But I can get a goddamn Douglas Fir, like we have every year since I was born. So I’m getting this tree! You can call your new friend from he jewelry department to come pick you up, but I’m staying here and changing this fucking tire!”

Standing back, Rafe buried his hands in his coat pockets, nodding along as you let it all out, the loose threads all twisting to finally weave together an explanation for your shift in mood. He spotted the tears as you mentioned your powerlessness over your dad’s job and your mom’s cancer, feeling like he was starting to understand your stubborn insistence to make this cursed Christmas joyful.

Though he knew he should be comforting you, he couldn’t help the little upward twitch of his lips at your comment about the jewelry girl. That explained your mood at check out, and if he was being honest, made his heart leap a little at the thought of you actually being jealous for his attention.

After several moments of his eyes on you, sizing you up as he digested your outburst, you suddenly felt exposed, and a little silly, “what?” you asked him with a burning blush.

“Nothing,” he shook his head with a grin, leaning down to pick the wrench up from the mud, “just didn’t know you were the jealous type.”

Your jaw fell slack, out of all you’d just said, of course he was zeroing in on your comment about the girl in the store. You were somewhat relieved though, glad to have an excuse to move on from talking about all the sad, stressful things going on at home.

“You’re such an ass,” you laughed, the air between you growing a little lighter. “I bet people call you that a lot.”

Rafe knelt down in the mud, beginning to loosen the screws of the flat tire.

“Not everyone, some people go with ‘lost puppy’,” he muttered under his breath.

Your smile fell from your lips, your eyes grew as you realized he was quoting you back to you. He had heard you talking about him to your brothers last night. You replayed all your words in your head with a wince - laughing about how he was like the kid from Home Alone, saying you only brought him home because you felt awkward. God, now you felt like an ass.

“Rafe, I’m…I’m so sorry, that was not cool…”

“It’s fine,” he said, a small grunt leaving him as he used the wrench to loosen a particularly rusted bolt.

“No, it’s not. We shouldn’t have been laughing. I didn’t just bring you home because I felt bad-”

“Why did you then?” He stopped what he was doing, his eyes landing on yours so suddenly, you jumped back a bit, taken by the striking blue, and the vulnerability you were seeing in them for the first time.

Deciding it was time to get your own jeans muddy, you knelt down next to him, hands wrapping around the wrench handle next to his to help him pull, both of you struggling due to the rain making the wrench so slippery.

The bolt still didn’t budge, and you paused for a minute, sitting back on your heels and looking at him.

“Because it’s Christmas,” you answered his question. “And I wanted to spend it with a friend.”

The tips of his ears burned red, he hoped you’d think it was just from the cold.

Going in for a second try, you both tugged on the wrench again, gritted teeth and white knuckles as you combined your strength to turn it as hard as you could. Frosted rain slipping between the end of the wrench and the bolt made it slip, the metal flying through the air. You and Rafe both slipped in the mud under your knees, Rafe trying to catch himself on his hands so he didn’t land on top of you, but not quite in time. His large body landed on top of yours and you both went tumbling down the side of the road, landing side by side in the muddy ditch with an unsettling squelch.

Both of you completely covered in mud, panting and shocked, Rafe turned his head to look at you, “fake tree?”

“Yeah,” you breathlessly agreed. “Fake tree.”

You and Rafe snuck in through the garage,  both of you tracking mud with every step. There was no way you’d make it all the way up to the bathroom without destroying the floors in your wake.

You’d laughed together the entire drive back to the house. What a disaster the shopping trip had turned into, and yet, you were more in the Christmas spirit now than you had been in a long, long time.

“Oh shit,” you yelped, slipping on your own muddy boot and knocking down a pile of boxes as you tried to stabilize yourself.

Rafe’s arms shot out to catch you, your nails digging into his forearms to hold yourself up. You eyed him, still wearing the “naughty” sweater you hoped he’d remembered to pay for.

“Well these are ruined,” you sighed, looking down at your own mud-soaked pullover. “And there’s no way we’re making it upstairs without tracking in mud.”

Before your sentence was even finished, Rafe was hooking his hands into the collar, pulling the sweater up and off with one pull, peeling off the soaked t-shirt underneath it, too. 

Failing miserably to hide your shock at his sculpted form, you bit your lip to silence the gasp that was begging to escape. He was just as built as you expected, if not more. His abs creased in a perfect set of six, sturdy pecs and two thick blue veins running through each bicep. He was somehow tan in the middle of December, and his skin was perfectly smooth apart from the little line of rough hair that ran from his belly button down to the waistband of his jeans. 

He caught you staring, of course he did, and smirked as he flustered you further by unbuttoning his jeans and letting them fall to the floor in a muddy heap, left in only his black boxer-briefs.

Frozen in place, you subconsciously pulled your sleeves down over your hands, as if covering yourself up more could clear the cloud of attraction fogging your brain. Rafe turned and walked towards the door that led into the house.

“Wha-where are you going?” You asked him, snapped out of your trance.

“To take a shower,” he said, like it was obvious. “I’m fucking freezing, but you can stay here and drip.”

He smiled at you expectantly, there was a challenging dip in his voice as he over pronounced the last word. Something competitive rose in your chest, he clearly didn’t think you had it in you to strip down, too. At the end of the day, you were a classic oldest child - you didn’t take kindly to losing.

Keeping your eyes locked to him, you grabbed the hem of your sweater and pulled it off over your head, copying him by pulling the shirt underneath off too until you were standing in front of him in just your bra. Rafe tilted his head as his eyes raked over you, raising his eyebrows when he got to your jeans, just as muddy and destroyed as his had been.

With a hard swallow, you undid the button and zipper with shaky hands, shimmying your hips a little to pull the wet denim over your curves. Rafe went pale and speechless, taking in the little show with a heavy rise and fall of his chest. You piled all of your clothes in the corner, hoping no one in your family stumbled upon them before you had the chance to wash them.

Rafe didn’t even try to hide the way he was drinking you in as you padded towards him in your underwear, brushing past him to get to the door first.

“I mean, damn,” he wolf-whistled at you, quietly so no one inside the house came looking for the sound.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, stepping ahead of him so he couldn’t see your pleased smile.

He followed your tiptoed steps through the hall and up the stairs, stopping at each corner to make sure no one was going to come around it and catch the two of you sneaking around in your underwear. 

Once you made it to the upstairs bathroom, you turned on the shower, excited to step into the steamy water and finally warm up. You were surprised to find Rafe still standing in the open doorway when you turned, sure he’d get the hint that he should wait outside when it came time for you to really strip down.

“What are you doing?” You whisper-scolded him.

“Enjoying the view,” he winked.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, pushing him by his chest so he stumbled back into the hall. “I don’t need your help for this pa-”

Your sentence was cut short by the creaking of wood under incoming footsteps. Panicking, you grabbed Rafe’s wrist, pulling him into the bathroom and locking the door behind him. 

“Woah, is this really happening?” He asked breathlessly, licking his lips before you slapped your hand over his mouth to shut him up, his eyes going wide at your boldness.

“Someone’s coming,” you mouthed, urging him to be quiet as you kept your palm firmly sealed over his lips.

The footsteps in the hall grew louder, their owner getting closer and closer to the door, not knowing you had a half-naked man pushed up against the other side as steam swirled around your bare bodies.

As you both waited with baited breath, your eyes drifted over Rafe’s body, so close to yours in the tiny bathroom. You couldn’t help it, sure that desire was painted all over your features. There was no use in denying it, as the warm steam caused a single drop of sweat to roll down his chest and into the ripple of his abs, you finally allowed yourself to accept that you wanted him, bad.

He felt it too, you were sure of it, his eyes half closed with heavy lids as he looked down over you, drinking in all the exposed skin and soft lace of your underwear set. 

Just as his hand slowly started rising toward your hip, a knock on the other side of the door made you both jump, a little yelp of surprise almost leaving your lips before Rafe threw his hand over your mouth, the tables turned. 

“Hey Gigs?” Benny’s little voice called from the other side of the door.

You tried to move Rafe’s hand from your mouth, but he only allowed you to lift it enough to respond before covering your lips again.

“Y-yeah, Beans?” Your voice cracked in response, Rafe flashing you a teasing grin at your flustered state. You shot him a warning look, praying your little brother couldn’t sense what was going on.

“Can we open the presents you bought us now, pleaseee?” Benny asked.

Normally you’d say no, that they had to wait until Christmas day. But as you were about to reject his request, Rafe pulled his hand from your mouth, letting his thumb tug your bottom lip down as he dragged his fingers to your jaw and brushed the soft skin of your neck. You could tell by his wicked grin he was enjoying seeing how far he could push you, drunk off your blushes and gasps.

“Yes, sure, th-that’s fine,” you told Benny, eager to get him away from the door. Rafe chuckled quietly at your compliance, making you clench your jaw even harder in annoyance at him.

“Sweet, thanks!” Benny called, hurrying back downstairs, clearly not having expected you to give him the answer he wanted.

Once you were sure the coast was clear, you glared up at Rafe, “you can’t do that!”

He threw his head back in satisfied laughter, bringing it back down only to drop his lips close to your ear.

“So, how about that shower?” He whispered.

With a little grin of your own, you leaned in too, “Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“Get out.”

Rafe managed to find his way back to the laundry room without bumping into any of your brothers. He ran his hair under the utility sink faucet to get the flecks of mud out, throwing on some clean, warm clothes before heading to the kitchen in search of a much needed glass of water, his mouth still full of cotton at the thought of you nearly naked in front of him.

As he rounded into the kitchen, he stopped short, surprise flashing across his face.

A painfully thin woman, who he could only assume to be your mother, stood in the middle of the small space, bony hands on the back of an empty kitchen chair. Her bald head was wrapped in a silky scarf, and she smiled an easy grin that reminded him so stunningly of yours.

“You must be Rafe,” she said. “Have a seat.”

(to be continued)

a/n: okay not the single longest post I've ever made on this website. period. thank u for reading!! two more parts w the last taking place on New Year's Eve. merry everything!!

taglist note: the taglist for this series will be posted in replies asap and has gotten very long so it is closed. I'm soooo thankful that ppl want to know when I post you have no idea! but it takes me a long time to do and makes posting difficult, so I am asking that in order to stay on the list for the rest of the series, you interact with each post in some way (reply with feedback, a rb, an ask - anything you'd like!) it really helps me as a writer! thank you!!

if you missed the taglist, just follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs to be first to know when I post!

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Do you think it's weird that I was fine with Roxas finding out he was Sora's Nobody in Kingdom Hearts, but Adrien not being what we thought he was triggered my ick factor a lot? Do you think it's because we learned that about Roxas before we had a lot of time to get attached to him?

I was initially going to say that I can't answer this because I've only played Kingdom Hearts 1, so my knowledge of the later games is pretty limited. Then I remembered that my little brother is both obsessed with those games and the Mycroft to my Sherlock*, so I gave him a call and got the expert opinion (and a reminder that I need to play the Kingdom Hearts games so that my brother can talk about them with someone who understands story telling because those games apparently make a lot of... interesting choices.)

Here is the sum of my brother's analysis:

The two properties handled the concept of personhood and artificial beings in such wildly different ways that it would never even occur to him to compare them (though it was an interesting question once posed). A good portion of the later Kingdom Hearts games revolve around asking what a person even is. Should they try to make the Nobodies into people? Do the Nobodies even need to change to be people or are they people already? What makes Roxas different from other Nobodies? These questions start being asked very early on and, for all the story's flaws, you can tell that the writers are aware that they're dealing with a serious topic and that they're trying to do it justice.

Meanwhile, Miraculous introduces artificial beings who don't have true free will and then... completely ignores all of the ethical implications of that plot point. Emilie and Gabriel are good parents. The fact that the heroes have been killing off sentimonsters isn't concerning. Gabriel's commands are just a minor inconvenience to Adrienette and not anything that needs to be explored in a deeper way. He's still totally redeemable and it's fine that Adrien never learned the truth while his father was alive so that he could decide what that meant for their relationship on his own terms.

Given all of that, it's really not shocking that Kingdom Hearts makes you feel invested while Miraculous repulses you because the Miraculous introduced human sentimonsters for cheap shock value to the point where I firmly believe that it was a retcon. Meanwhile Kingdom Hearts planned major elements of the plot around the concept and set it up right from the start of the second game. If Miraculous had done the same kind of thing, then I doubt that most salters would be deeply upset by the concept. They still might dislike it, but it would be seen more as a matter of taste than as a true flaw.

*For those who don't know, Mycroft Holmes is Sherlock Holmes' older brother. Sherlock openly admits that Mycroft is the smarter and more observant of the two siblings. The same can be said of my sibling when it comes to story telling. Everything I can do, he can do just as well or even better. He's never seen miraculous, but knows the major plot beats from a mix of cultural osmosis and reading the occasional fanfic when an author he likes crosses fandoms. He is highly amused that no one he follows does anything save for fix-it type stuff and says it tells him everything he needs to know about canon's writing quality, an assessment I fully agree with.

[eurydicees]

re what they are saying about fiyero on twitter - gosh there is too much stuff. they talk about how uninteresting he is, how his presence has no effect on the leads, how he shouldn’t be elphaba’s endgame and doesnt deserve to be, how they want to delete him from the plot (somewhere along those line), how they want to block anyone making any fiyeraba or fiyero tweets or content and much, much, MUCH more like i genuinely do not understand the obsession?

i of course get not liking him, thats normal about any character lol but the way they just cannot shut up about how they dislike him is so….. like really no one is challenging your gelphie content 😭 we really are not interested to challenge your ship. you really dont need to focus on this guy 24/7 but ig you do you i hope they remain sane amidst all the apparent misery lol

well. you know. disappointed by not surprised. a partial fiyero ted talk under the cut. sorry.

it's like. it's just so frustrating to write him off as uninteresting and as having no effect on either elphaba (or glinda). like guys why is the media literacy not happening right now. also how the fuck would you delete him from the plot???? guys his plan is literally how elphaba escapes dorothy. he's the one who saves her from the gale force, TWICE. he literally sacrifices himself for her escape and its his sacrifice that makes her spiral into "wickedness" during no good deed.

also, fiyero is elphaba's endgame in part because he does what glinda cannot bring herself to do. WHICH IS SO VITAL TO THE ENDING. fiyero is the one who makes all of the sacrifices for elphaba that glinda refused, and he both pays the price for it and reaps the reward of it.

glinda and elphaba have a profound effect on each other, obviously, but it's not like fiyero is left unchanged by elphaba. i dont get where this idea that fiyero and elphaba have no dynamic because like??? that's just not true?????

fiyero goes from refusing to confront the difficulties of life to choosing the more difficult path for the sake of morality and loyalty and love because of elphaba (which is also really interesting given how he's, like, kind of a casualty of war in the book more than he is an actual rebel....mostly fiyero's book to musical adapation is #Rough but that's a cool parallel i hadn't noticed before).

glinda begins to see the flaws in the wizard's society, but she actively chooses to be a part of the system anyway. and she regrets it. that's the whole thing abt thank goodness!!!

fiyero, on the other hand, begins to see the flaws in this society and he chooses elphaba--and the life of rebellion that she's chosen--over everything that glinda admits to being unable to resist.

and GOD. guys that's so interesting. HES SO INTERESTING!!! how are you not interested by all of this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

wicked is such a cool study on morality and what the "right" thing to do in such a world is, and what it means to make the decision to do the right thing vs the comfortable thing. fiyero chooses to follow elphaba and he pays the price, but he also doesn't regret it. glinda chooses the "safe" option--but in the end, even if she chooses good then, she's entirely alone in it all.

and that's SO INTERESTING!!!!!!!!! god. whatever. twitter just doesn't get him like you and me get him, anon.

just. it's totally fine to dislike him! i'm not refuting people's right to dislike him. the nature of fictional characters is that sometimes people will dislike them. like that's fine.

but being incapable of shutting up about how much you hate a character just...it stops being "harmlessly disliking a fictional character" and starts being "you are insufferable to talk to." like sorry you're so miserable about fiyeraba but i'm gonna be over here just having fun because that's what fandom is supposed to be about :)

(also, just a major issue with breaking this movie up into two films released a year apart is that any movie-only fans just don't get the point of fiyero's character. it's kind of devastating. ik not all of the people saying that stuff are movie-only but man. the people who are...im BEGGING you to give him a chance in part 2. literally BEGGING you. fiyero is such a good character. he has so many good moments. let the green girl go lives in my head rent free and if they cut that i'll riot.)

tldr; fiyero is SO neat and twitter is just full of cowards.

[celestiaras]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ totally over it! ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by anonymous ˚₊ ⊹

ft. apple white (& raven queen) x f! reader — ever after high

╰₊✧ the break-up doesn’t bother her at all anymore, it totally isn’t on her mind twenty-four-seven!┊1.1k words

contains: toxic/unhealthy one-sided relationships, obsessive/possessive behavior but not quite yandere, reader is a rebel & a charming

➤ author's note: toxic yuri, my beloved! ever after high was one of those shows where i had a crush on the girls but it didn’t click that i was sapphic yet T-T

ex girlfriend! apple white who acts like she understands when you end things with her, nodding her head while blinking back tears and agreeing to just stay as friends. her plastic smile is so close to breaking because she truly doesn’t understand it at all when she thought everything was perfect and going wonderfully. she doesn’t want to be the stereotypical ex who throws a tantrum screaming and crying while on her knees sobbing for another chance, but she certainly feels like doing it. has the previous year and a half meant nothing to you? she already had your next anniversary plans in mind all the way up to the next nine years, but all of that shattered in a single sentence. 

ex girlfriend! apple white who manages to keep herself together until she barges into briar and ashlynn’s shared dorm room, throwing herself onto their bed and crying her heart out. she can barely speak coherently between her wailing and sniffles, recounting the events that had just happened with a shaky voice as if she was telling a horror story. she doesn’t get broken up with, she’s apple white, daughter of snow white, and she was so certain you were her prince(ss) charming— why was this happening to her?

ex girlfriend! apple white whose friends sorta saw this coming. as beautiful, benevolent, and dedicated as she can be, there were some fatal flaws that made your relationship bound to fall to pieces. the first and most prevalent being your different views on destiny. despite being a daughter of the charming family, you had never wanted to be a knight or a young royal who was only known for having a nice smile, instead dreaming of living a peaceful life out in a village away from all of that. of course, royals and rebels can usually still be friends or lovers, but when apple is constantly talking about her dreams of living in a palace with you wearing poofy dresses, dainty tiaras, and being adored by crowds of thousands… it was never going to be something that was going to be happily forever after. 

ex girlfriend! apple white who won’t stop awkwardly bringing up how you aren’t girlfriends anymore for the following few weeks or so, just like how she used to bring up how raven didn’t sign the storybook of legends expect a lot more often. she also won’t stop referring to you as her girlfriend, wrapping her arm around yours and then sheepishly giggling that she forgot. it was fine the first few times and you tried your best to be patient, but after a couple dozen times, you’ve grown to be agitated. you’re trying to be nice about it since you really do want to keep her in your life as a friend because she’s a wonderful person, but she’s making it more and more difficult to even be in the same room as her. 

ex girlfriend! apple white who started stalking you obsessively to implement meticulous plans to make you jealous, running into you multiple times throughout the day looking as beautiful as a goddess with people trailing behind her with compliments and asking for her number. she’s pretending she’s fine, doesn’t care, has moved on, and is ready to mingle with other singles. she’s not staying up all night crying and bitterly reminiscing on the moments you previously shared, definitely not! she’s totally over it! 

ex girlfriend! apple white who will flirt with and kiss other girls to prove she’s over you— hell, she’s even been linking arms with daring again despite the fact that he completely fails at making her heart flutter and just makes her look good for appearances. she only does these things in front of you though in an attempt to make you care, the second you turn the corner without sparing a single look while chatting with raven, she sulks and walks off trying to think of her next move.

ex girlfriend! apple white who refuses to tell her mom about the state of your relationship. she knows she’ll figure things out eventually, it’s impossible to do so with how tightly her life is monitored to ensure perfection, but she’s hoping she can put everything back together again before snow white could tell her “i know that girl was trouble!” she still refers to you as her girlfriend whenever her mother calls, making up fake dates and such that happened to prevent suspicion. she feels so guilty lying to the queen, but she’s determined it won’t have to be like that for much longer!

ex girlfriend! apple white who throws a tantrum as soon as she’s out of public when she finds out you and raven queen are dating, spotted sharing a kiss by the lockers before classes started with the news catching on like wildfire throughout the school. whatever happened to the rule of not dating a friend’s ex?! she truly knew nothing of girl code, but that’s probably a product of social isolation as the evil queen’s daughter. raven can’t really be blamed, but the betrayal still feels like a sword in the back.

ex girlfriend! apple white who uses her influence to get information about your current status. blondie is one of her best friends and a bit of a blabbermouth, the gossip queen of the school who knows everything about everyone and is skilled at discovering whether the information is reliable or not. she’ll ask her to take down the article about your new relationship with raven under the guise of how she didn’t want either of you to get hate, but really it’s because she can’t stand seeing that stupid photo of you two together on everyone’s mirrorbook. she’ll also try to hook up with cupid to ask if she could work her magic on making you fall in love with her again, but it’s against her own ethics to break up a happy couple (maybe apple tried to steal her bows and arrows just to find out they don’t work unless you have the divine blood of eros in you after testing them out on some trolls).

ex girlfriend! apple white who is as stubborn as she is beautiful and won’t let up until you’re in her arms again. she’s crazy enough to sabotage what you have with raven, but clever enough to make herself look more like nothing more than an innocent bystander. she’s also popular enough for people to question you directly why you could have possibly broken up with someone as perfect as her while being confused when you claim you don’t need perfection. she’s infinitely creative in thinking of how to win your heart once again, one of her ideas will work one way or another— she just knows it!

request [ I’m soooo happy to see another eah writer!!! Could I request something that is like Ex! Apple White? I would like to see more toxic WLW in this fandom hahaha, maybe reader is a Charming rebel so that’s why things were ended? ]

[izvmimi]

cw: crack but also cute, i think. reader has a specified magic, and she and mash are friends (for now). reader's a bit preoccupied with his diet. a bit of medical talk.

Mash is three bites into a cream puff when you put away the last of your pantry essentials, and turn to look at him, a slight frown on your face.

He’s done the legwork of your grocery shopping run, bringing everything into your apartment in one trip, and now, baked good in hand, he’s looking idly in your direction. You can tell you’ve exhausted him all morning with your chatter, but he’d deny it if you asked him, claiming he’s content to hear whatever you have to say.

You are now tasked with the job of convincing yourself that that’s true, but Mash doesn’t lie, and it is particularly hard to lie to you anyway. You lean over your counter as you watch him sit atop your barstool, kicking his feet practically, and when he catches you watching him finally, his eyes soften as he inquires what you have to say. 

“Mm?”

You almost feel bad for spoiling his happiness when you say, “Mash, I think we should talk about your diet.”

He blinks, and takes four more bites, rapidly in succession. He knows exactly what you mean. 

“There’s nothing wrong with my diet.”

He’s eating faster now, and before you can open your mouth the cream puff is gone. There are at least three more stowed away from the supermarket bakery this morning, sitting in your fridge, that he absolutely plans to leave with. Not that you can stop him, or would.

But it’s your duty to say something. 

Moving in closer to talk to him, you pull up the other barstool and rest your elbow on the counter to prop up your chin. Now you’re eye to golden eye, and his expression is unchanged, neutral as always but he’s focused on you.

“I know you like them, but you can’t live off of flour and sugar, Mash.”

He blinks again. “Why not?”

You scrunch your nose. “Diabetes? Which leads to heart disease, stroke, poor arterial circulation, retinopathy, renal failure…” your fingers tap the desk with every disease, but your voice trails off as you can see his eyes glaze over and you let yourself sigh internally before stopping. “I’m wasting my time with this, aren’t I?” you say, not annoyed but somewhat defeated. You’ve looked away for a moment, but when you look back, you’re not sure when he moved, but there’s another cream puff in hand.

“Mash!”

“Mm?”

You grit your teeth. “At least consider what I have to say for a second.”

Through bites, he insists, “No, you totally have a point but my nutrition is fine.” He swallows, then pats his left chest. “Mike and Kevin have not brought anything to my attention.”

It’s your turn to give him a blank look, but Mash never ceases to surprise you, and if you don’t say something fast, he’ll tell you about the rest of his muscles’ thoughts and feelings. 

“Right but long term, Mash.”

“Mm.” He smiles, accepting your concern for him. “Show me where I’m unhealthy then.”

Mash stands and raises his arms in a T-pose, and unable to help it, you burst out laughing. Of course, you can’t find any flaw - every extent of his body remains as chiseled and developed as the day you first met him, and the fact that he even looks so seriously willing to participate is so laughable. 

“I-” you’ve run out of ways to defend your stance, but then you shake your head.

“You know that’s not what I mean-”

Somehow in the time that you closed your eyes and shook your head to recollect yourself, he’s started doing push-ups. You give him an appraising look, then go to the fridge and pull out a cabbage from the crisper.

Without bothering to ask, you settle down on his back once he’s slowed for a moment, and he continues, this time slow enough that you won't topple off of him. 

“Okay, how about if I turn this choux into choux cream?” 

He pauses in the up position, and cranes his neck up in your direction.

“I’m listening.”

“Good.” He descends again, and you make yourself more comfortable on his back, tucking your legs in. 

“I use my magic to make you feel like you’re eating a cream puff, but it’s actually a nutritious vegetable.”

“Mm.”

He stops, and you jump off of him, and then he takes the cabbage from you in his right hand as you stand before him. Looking from the cabbage to you, he asks:

“So you’ll replicate the entire experience of a cream puff in this cabbage?”

You nod. “Like this.”

You touch his hand gently, whisper your incantation, and in Mash’s eyes, the cabbage now has the appearance of a perfectly appetizing cream puff in his hand, far better appearing than the one he just had, and far too eager, he brings it to his mouth, spitting out immediately when it’s a raw cabbage and not his favorite food in his mouth. 

“Unpleasant.”

You grimace.

“Shit, I think I need stronger magic,” you murmur to yourself. Scratching your chin, you realize that taste might require a bit closer contact.

“Mash.”

Mash has set the half-bitten cabbage back down and is now in your fridge to cleanse his palate with another cream puff.

“Wait!”

He turns to the sound of your voice, mouth full, and you sigh. Walking towards him, you take the cream puff out of his mouth and set that on a plate too, right next to the cabbage. 

Moving to the sink to wash your hands, you ask, “Can you let me try again? I just need permission to touch your cheek or tongue in order to make sure your taste buds get involved in the illusion.”

You turn and look at him, once your hands are dry, and you shake them out, and he looks at you contemplatively. 

You raise an eyebrow.

“Can I or-”

Suddenly he steps forward, and gently takes your face in his hands, and before you know it, he’s kissed you. Tongue in your mouth, sweet and swirling quickly; it’s over almost as quickly as it began.

You hold your breath, but he’s reached for the cabbage now, and bites into it.

“It worked.”

The look on his face is pleasant and unfazed, unlike you. Your heart races for a moment, but soon you remember to breathe and air fills your lungs again.

All that’s left to say, your cheeks warmed, is, “I’m glad.”

[qqueenofhades]

what gets me is whenever any of these people says not to vote, and you ask them what the alternative is, they usually throw some tantrum about how it shouldn't be their job to fix this country and they're not expected to know (or start calling you a neoliberal or a bootlicker lmao) and i just. i don't get that? not voting, especially in the current climate, is a big deal. i don't think it's unreasonable to ask anyone who advocates for that what the alternative is. i'm not expecting you, online leftist, to magically know how to fix everything. i am expecting something from you if you're gonna tell me not to vote, especially when we both know that helps the gop. like, how dare we ask them to defend this big choice they're telling us to make?

their position boils down to helping trump and the republicans but any time you remind them of that they get upset. what is the alternative? what plan do they have? it would be one thing if there was another option that they'd come up with, but they haven't and don't seem interested in doing so. mutual aid and organizing is only going to take us so far and it'll be a hell of a lot easier to do it with biden in office than trump

The whole "it doesn't matter who's president/in charge of the government because mutual aid and organizing is the only valid way to do community engagement" is the leftist version of the Brexit nutcases who, and I swear I am not making this up, argued that it was fine if the UK left the EU trading sphere/single market/customs union with nothing to replace it, because "Britain is a nation of farmers and can grow food in our back gardens!!!!" Yes, because you're so devoted to your stupid ideology that you think the large-scale collapse of society, a major world power, a western democracy, and everything else will have no effect, and you can just do your little Facebook mutual aid groups and happily shout on Twitter at anyone who disagrees with you. Never mind the fact that this would obviously and immediately harm vulnerable people the most and that nobody, not even the Online Leftists themselves, actually wants to live in the Violent Revolution Total Anarchy World they masturbate to. Maybe this makes me a neoliberal corporate shill, but I'd rather that the world got better, instead of worse. I would actually prefer that myself, my friends, my family, my whole life, the whole country, and the rest of the world wasn't sacrificed on the Great Revolution Altar, but I shouldn't worry. We have mutual aid. At least as long as a) you have never said anything the Online Leftists even slightly disagree with, since they're sure as hell not the kind of people I would trust to have my back in any large-scale societal collapse, and b) I guess they'll all be growing food in their back gardens too, rather than using any of those dirty "government" or "society" things to supply their basic needs. We're saved! No need to worry. Bring on the anarchy.

Aside from the fact that Online Leftists, as I have said before, think that moral action begins and ends with posting the Right Opinions on social media at the correct timeframe and any other action or engagement with a flawed system or basic reality is heresy, they don't like being challenged -- i.e. "if we don't vote, then what do we do?" -- because a) it questions their authority as supreme arbiters of morality, and b) it means that there should actually be an action in place of cutting out something so consequential as voting, which likewise clashes with their "everything will be fixed by Magical Thinking" viewpoint. They don't want to be asked what to do in place of voting, or in anything at all; they want to think their correct thoughts and judge anyone who doesn't, regardless of how logically incoherent these things are or the inevitable outcome of those decisions, because nothing bad is ever their fault, or even the Republicans' fault, or anyone else at all except for the Democrats and/or "the West." I mean, yeah, if they're going around to preach the Don't Vote Because It's Actually Evil gospel, it's the bare fucking minimum to expect that they have something to offer in return besides Ye Olde Bolshevik cosplay fantasies. Since they don't, they get tetchy when you point that out.

Also, while I know it's the social media fashion that everything has to be the worst thing ever and we have plenty of the "Biden is also a genocidal fascist but I guess vote for him or something" utterly-minimum-standard posts going around, I will point out why that rhetoric is a) wrong and b) unhelpful. (Not that I expect it will make a single difference to anyone who has to get their internet cred by yelling about how Biden is a fascist, but still.) No, Biden is not a fascist by any logical definition of the word, you would have to do a lot of work to convince me that he is personally genocidal beyond what is demanded of any post-1948 American president who exists in an extremely complicated international sphere with long-standing alliances (such as, yes, with Israel) and indeed not quite a bit more progressive than literally every one of his predecessors, and it makes those actual words useless. If you claim that "Biden and Trump are both genocidal fascists," you are utterly effacing those categories as any kind of critical or useful distinction. You can't argue for any difference, you can't point out policy essentials or nuances, you can't make the most basic of empirical observances or come to a judgment on whether any part of that statement is true, because language has been deliberately stripped of meaning and used to score Cool Internet Leftist points. How can we explain what fascism or genocide actually are and what to do about them, if it's just what you call everyone as a matter of course whenever they disagree with you? You can't. That's the point.

Once again: I strongly disagree with the idea of just giving Israel/Netanyahu a blank check to keep committing atrocities, but I also need to repeatedly point out that Biden isn't doing that. His initial unconditional support of Israel after October 7 (which at the time was the correct response) has shifted to a much more measured and conditional approach where he has muted the overtly pro-Israel statements and started talking about a two-state solution and the need to protect the lives of civilians and trying to keep a lid on what could become a REALLY bad situation with all kinds of war-hungry powers eager to jump into the Middle East and blow it completely to hell. As I have said in my other posts, Trump will not do this. Trump will do the exact opposite. Which is why Netanyahu, who doesn't like having his hands tied precisely in the way Biden is doing, is trying so hard to get Trump back in. This also extends to the people who think that the West/the U.S. is the source of all evil in the world, but they're somehow the only people that can make actual choices or have real agency. Everyone else is just an American puppet; everyone is being lied to or manipulated by America/the West; nobody ever chose anything of their own free will; America/the West could roll in and put a stop to everything bad if they "really wanted to," but choose not to because etc. etc., Evil. As such, this completely fact-free belief is basically the central starting point for Online Leftism, which as I have also said, is now beyond useless and verging on just as deranged and actively dangerous as the fascists, especially since they are 100% willing to enable far-right fascism however and whenever they can because something something, That Will Show Us.

Anyway. Yes. Whew.

[nosyp]

Lunchbox Lovers

Warnings = none

Pairing = Rin Itoshi x GN! Reader

Word count = 1.2k words

Summary = You work as the canteen lady in Blue Lock. Rin captures your attention and you capture Rin's attention.

“Next!” you yelled, inviting the next person for their portion of food. 

After being kicked out of your apartment, you’ve been living on the streets until you finally got this job. Serving food to sweaty soccer players wasn’t what you had in mind but the pay was decent. Some have tried to flirt with you since being trapped meant you wouldn’t see another woman til you got disqualified or quit but all you did was shoo them away when they did. Some complained. Some others kept pestering you but one report was all it took for them to go away.

You still decided to stay nonetheless, all because of one man. That man was Rin Itoshi, he was the absolute definition of perfect. Every time you saw him, his visuals were always perfect from top to bottom, not an inch of his body showed signs of a flaw. You sometimes wondered why he didn’t take up modelling. But at the same time, it’d be a waste of his talents if all he did was take pictures for a living.

Being a part of the staff team, you were allowed to watch the matches between the players. Whenever Rin played, you would always watch, cheering for him silently in the background and every single time, he would never disappoint. His moves were just as flawless as his looks, if not, more. 

Sometimes, you’d take up extra jobs when the staff were temporarily away. One day, you could be wrapping bandages for the players and another day you could be sweeping the hallways. Every once in a while, you could spot Rin glancing back at you whenever you did.

Today was one of those days. You were cleaning up the gym equipment while Rin was working out on the leg press. He was quite hard working for someone who was already born with talent, I mean look at his brother.

“Y’know you should take a rest once in a while,” your voice pierced through the room.

He halted mid leg press and let out a disgruntled sound. Finishing his rep, he turned to look at you and shot you a nasty glare.

“I don’t need to. What’s the point if I don’t even do good?” he responded with a firm voice.

You chuckled at his response and stopped what you were doing. “It’s not good to push yourself too much, go get a drink at least,”

He let out an exhale and stood up. “Fine,” he murmured while walking towards the water dispenser. “If that gets you to stop pestering me,” he whispered underneath his breath.

“I heard that!” you yelled from across the room.

Click. Click.

You could hear him click the water dispenser repeatedly. Worried, you ran over to him to see what was happening. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” you asked.

“It’s empty,” his response was short and straightforward.

“Aight, I’ll go get another gallon then. Wait a moment,” you said before making your way to the storage room. You came back soon later, dragging a gallon of water. Luckily, Rin was nice enough to offer assistance. 

“Ahhh thanks… I wouldn’t have done it without you,”

He hummed as a response and you closed up the water dispenser.

“There! It should work now,” 

Running back to your room, you squealed in excitement. This was your first time talking to ITOSHI RIN. All you could do for the rest of the night was toss and turn in your bed, thinking about what could flourish from this one interaction. 

You continued trying to get close to him over the next few days: commenting on how well he played, getting his drink for him, making small talk and other little things. Though, he did keep your interactions short, which totally hindered your plans big time. He did seem weirded out by your new-found behaviour at first but got used to it.

—

Walking past the hallway, you spotted Rin Itoshi in your peripheral vision. Then suddenly, you found himself caging you between him and the wall. He was sweaty and panting from the match he just had. 

“E-eh Rin?” you muttered, trying to cover up your internal panic. 

“Tell me something right now, Y/N,” he said, still out of breath. “D-does our relationship mean anything? I don’t understand it, but I can’t stop thinking about you... it’s annoying.”

The question caught you off guard, leaving you speechless. You let out the breath that you didn’t even know you were holding and…

“Ugh… I don’t have any other way to say this but,” you stopped, thinking for a moment. 

“But…? Tell me please,” he begged. This was the first time you had seen him like this. 

—

Rin's POV

For the past few days, Y/N has been on my mind more than I’d like to admit. Ever since that moment with the water dispenser, they’ve been trying to talk to me more. I don’t get it. What do they even want?

Even during my breaks, their presence lingers in my thoughts. It’s irritating, like an itch I can’t scratch. I’ve never felt this distracted before, and it’s throwing me off. Whatever this is, it’s unsettling, and I don’t like it.

Sometimes, I’d catch myself looking for her, and it only made everything worse. Each time I saw her, it felt like the weight of my thoughts grew heavier, like I couldn’t escape the constant pull she had on me. It was maddening. I wanted to stay distant, to focus on other things, but there was something about her that made it impossible to look away.

—

Your POV

“U-ugh fine, I like you, Rin,” you admitted, relief washing over you as you finally let your true feelings of Rin Itoshi out.

His breath hitched and he stepped away from you. He didn’t say anything, only looked at the ground.

“So… would you uhm… like to be my boyfriend…?” you awkwardly asked. This only stretched the awkwardness even more as he just stood there, unmoving. 

‘Did you make the wrong move? Did you misunderstand the situation?’ you thought to yourself. But those questions were quickly shoved away when he spoke up.

“I…I like you too,” he said, softly. 

You stared in disbelief, your heart racing as if you were floating on cloud nine. The moment felt surreal, too perfect to be real. Had he really just accepted your confession? It was overwhelming, and the line between reality and a dream blurred in your mind.

As time passed, the bond between the two of you only grew stronger, each encounter strengthening your relationship. You both became experts at keeping your relationship a secret, meticulously scheduling moments to be together without raising suspicion. Though you had to be cautious in public, the stolen moments in private were worth it, and you both cherished them. The quiet understanding between you two made the secrecy feel more like a shared challenge, drawing you closer despite the need for discretion.

[fazar234]

Understanding Lanolin

(First time doing an analysis, so I hope y’all like it!)

Hey all, it’s been a minute hasn’t it?

With Issues 63 and 64 of the IDW comics for the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise having released, it’s caused quite a lot of division amongst the Sonic fanbase, in regard to one new character in particular: Lanolin the Sheep.

And hoo boy, it has not been pretty.

A while back, I sent an ask to a user by the name of @molinaskies (btw go check her out if you’re into analyses of Sonic’s character and Sonamy fanfics!) about her thoughts on Lanolin, and she replied with a post stating why she wasn’t a fan of her character.

Now, I believe that everyone has the right to like, dislike, or be neutral towards whatever or whoever they want, including Sonic characters. If you don’t like Lanolin, that’s totally fine by me and I respect your opinion.

However, due to all the ridiculous hate she has been receiving lately, I feel obligated as a Lanolin fan to state my own reasoning and analysis behind her character. As such, this post will be meant to serve as an understanding towards Lanolin and her character.

Now, before we go any further…

This is not meant to come off as forcing my opinion onto molinaskyes or anyone else! We all have the right to our own opinions, and we should all be allowed to like/dislike whatever characters we want to! This is just a post stating my opinion and reasoning behind Lanolin, nothing more, nothing less!

Alright, with that out of the way, let’s begin!

Who is Lanolin?

To put it short, she’s a sheep from the IDW comics who started out as a background character in the form of another Restoration volunteer and eventually worked her way up to the rank of a primary protagonist in Issue #57, taking on the role as leader of the Restoration’s new task force, the Diamond Cutters.

Her first ever appearance in the comics is Issue #2, where Sonic and Amy are doing a formidable job defending Riverside Village (Lanolin’s hometown), which is being hoarded by badniks, until Lanolin runs in, informing them of an incoming army from the west. She’d then help evacuate the citizens into the bunker and assist in taking down the army.

Since then, she’s made plenty of background appearances throughout the comics, helping citizens, taking care of various tasks at Restoration HQ, or just chilling (which, given her character, is pretty rare).

Lanolin’s Flaw

Fast-forward all the way to Issue #57, where Lanolin gets her chance in the spotlight, and from there, along with further issues, we get a better look at her character.

She gets startled quite easily, doesn’t approve of recklessness, and prefers to operate with a proper plan. She also has a more stoic and serious personality compared to the other characters, which I feel is a nice change of pace, and can come off as bossy to others (which I’ll dive more into later.)

She wasn’t like this in her previous appearances before 57, and I believe the reason can be attributed to the trauma the Metal Virus, as well as other minor disasters seen in the comics had on her. She doesn’t want anyone to feel scared and helpless again, which is why she formed the Diamond Cutters, and why she doesn’t seem to take well to things going wrong.

In Issue #58, she looked defeated because of the scouting of Eggperial City going wrong, and in Issue #63, she snapped at Sliver because of the training mission getting out of hand with the boulder incident (more on that in a second.)

Lanolin doesn’t know how to adapt to the unexpected, and it’s a flaw she’ll need to overcome in the future, or she may meet the same fate as a certain platypus.

Lanolin’s Perspective

Now then, onto what I’ve been wanting to talk about most: her actions and perspective in 63 and 64.

In the past three issues that have released thus far, we, the readers, have full knowledge of everything that’s been happening.

We know that Mimic has joined Clutch and disguised himself as Duo the Cat to infiltrate the Restoration and join the Diamond Cutters, so that he could get close enough to get revenge on Tangle and Whisper. We know that he sabotaged the team’s training session by kicking Silver (which Whisper managed to notice) and causing the boulders and the flood. And we know that he made Silver look bad by falling off the chair he was controlling and made it look like he had attacked him.

But Lanolin doesn’t.

From her perspective, Duo is just a new recruit who wants to make a difference and is expected to make a few mistakes. She sees him as someone she used to be. It’s why she took Duo’s side in Issue 63, when Silver accused Duo of ditching him while he was struggling to restrain the Giant Chopper from consuming him whole, because to her, Duo had only been to overwhelmed by the situation to do anything, and from her view, Silver was the one responsible for the accident, someone she had expected better control from, given his experience.

Now before you all go “OH WHAT DOES LANOLIN KNOW?! SHE’S JUST A NEWBIE AND SILVER’S THE EXPERT ON PSYCHOKINESIS! HE SAVED THE WORLD MULTIPLE TIMES!” Yes, we know he’s more talented than everyone gives him credit for. But Lanolin doesn’t. She doesn’t share the same history with him that everyone else does. If she did, she’d know that Silver would never lose control that easily unless something (or in this case, someone) sabotaged him, thus leading her to also suspect Duo.

And the same applies to 64. Lanolin asked Silver and Whisper for proof, they only responded by trying to assault who to her, was just an innocent individual who felt helpless and scared, something she never wanted anyone to feel. From her perspective, a powerful psychic and an experienced mercenary were accusing a new recruit of being some shapeshifting murderer, without even bothering so much as to offer a tad smidge of evidence that Duo was indeed a shapeshifting murderer.

And before you go: “WELL THAT DOESN’T EXCUSE HER ATTACKING WHISPER AND HER ATTITUDE!” Whisper literally made the first move by grabbing Lanolin’s arm! She was simply trying to defend herself and be rational, stating that they needed to talk about her problem as a team! As for her remark calling herself a soldier, this is one of her flaws, her bossiness, coming into play here! She’s not a perfect person, none of them are! She’s a flawed character, who’s experienced in certain aspects of leadership, but is still new to being a hero.

Silver accusing people at random isn’t anything new; we’ve seen it before in Sonic 06 and the Traitor Arc in the Archie Comics (which I personally haven’t read myself), and the reason why Whisper was too quick to act was because this is Mimic, the guy that killed the closest thing she had to a family! You really think she was just going to stand there and let him do it again? Yes, she should have acted reasonably but she let her emotions get the better of her. And it’s because of that that Duo was able to remove any suspicion.

And before you ask “WELL WHY DID LANOLIN VOTE TO KICK SILVER OUT BUT NOT WHISPER?! SHE ACCUSED DUO TOO!”, I beckon you all to look at this scene here.

Duo tricked everyone into thinking that Silver was the one who attacked him, not Whisper. Had Whisper been with Silver, it’s likely she would’ve been kicked out as well.

A villain’s plan to manipulate can only work if someone’s fallen for the bait, and Lanolin is indeed one of those people. I imagine once he gets caught, Lanolin’s gonna learn from this and she and Silver will make up and all will be good.

Lanolin and Tangle

One more thing that people’s miscomprehension has annoyed me about: the dynamic between Lanolin and Tangle.

In @molinaskies' post on Lanolin, she stated that Lanolin has an objective problem with Tangle and would go as far as to replace her. And I’m going to try to not sound too harsh here, but NO? SHE DOES NOT??

In Issue #58, Tangle was the one to comfort Lanolin when she felt defeated during the Eggperial City mission, and in Issue #59, Lanolin nearly sacrificed herself to save Tangle from the dimensional traps! And that whole gag with the pong-pong ball and Lanolin swatting it away in Issue #62 was literally just that: a gag! Lanolin definitely gets irritated by Tangle, but she doesn’t outright hate her! Would someone who wants to replace a teammate nearly get themselves killed to save said teammate?!

Conclusion

Wow, that was longer than I imagined.

I’m sorry if I ever came off as harsh during my analysis, but it just irks me that most of the fanbase won’t bother trying to see scenes from different perspectives, and it feels like they don’t tolerate flawed characters at all.

In the end, though, you’re all free to like or dislike Lanolin if you want. Everyone has the right to their own opinion. But at the very least, you should learn to properly comprehend perspectives and realize that none of these characters are perfect.

I hope my analysis brought you all some insight, and I’ll catch you all later.

[yourmomxx]

꧁𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈꧂ 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌

warnings: none

word count: 2.4k

**

The first time Oliver Otto met Cooper Bradford was on a Monday. It was the time when the rich people in Westport made their gardeners rake up all the dead leaves in their yards, and pile them up to huge stacks, and when the school started announcing the annual Winter Ball to everyone that wasn't interested to go.

Oliver Otto first met Cooper Bradford on a Monday. But today was not that day.

Today was the Friday before, a sunny day, and Katie Otto was spending it in her children's principal's office, involuntarily.

Though, she had to admit, Princibal Ablin's monologue that had occupied about half an hour of her time already, with only occasional nods, and "Yes"s and "I agree"s thrown into it from her side, had been a perfect opportunity to think about her shopping list in peace.

Maybe, if she was already here, she could pick up the most important stuff on the way back home? Well, Greg had eaten all the peanut flips, and Taylor wanted some kale for a new recipe she wanted to try out. Alright, scratch the kale, there was no way Taylor was getting anywhere near kitchen gadgets soon.

"Mrs Otto? Are you even listening to me?"

"Huh?" Perfect response, Katie. Really inobvious. She saved herself with a bright smile. "Of course I am, Principal Ablin. And I absolutely agree with you."

Ablin tilted his head. "So, you agree that you need to have a serious discussion with your kids about team spirit? We cannot have all of the Otto children plot against each other every day of school."

Oooh, that's what he had been talking about? "Ahahaha," Katie laughed dryly. Acting was definitely her strong suit.

"Absolutely I do. But I also have to tell you that my kids totally do not behave this way when they are at home."

They totally were.

"So, maybe," she gestured, "Maybe they are acting like that because the school provides a bad environment for them?"

Strong save.

Principal Ablin pursed his lips. "I can assure you that our teacher staff, and me, of course, are doing everything to be the best rolemodels for the kids there are, and to make them feel welcome and appreciated at all times."

Well, tell that to all the kids that dropped out because of bullying.

Katie gathered her purse and stood up.

"Well, thank you, Principal Ablin, for that very elaborate conversation that we just had. I will definitely talk to my kids, but I can assure you, they are just fine."

"Get off me, you gremlin!" "You get off me first, you toy-murderer!"

When Katie opened the door to step out of Principal Ablin's office, she was feeling incredibly tempted to throw it shut again. But that was like choosing between the door of hungry hyenas and the one where lava was slowly rising in the room. Both promised death, either way.

So she just sort of froze in the threshold between Principal Ablin's office and the school hallway, watching at least two of her children wrangling each other on the floor.

"Shouldn't you .. do something? They are your children, after all. And they are "just fine"." Principal Ablin, who had suddenly appeared next to her, set airquotes around the last two words.

She probably should. After all, he was right: that gremlin and toy-murderer throwing hands with each other over there were her seed.

Or, maybe, she should drag Principal Ablin back into his office and throw him out the window, after all.

Eh, that plan had been flawed from the first time she came up with it forty-three minutes ago.

She gave it one second. And then another. Katie sighed and stomped over to her fighting children.

"Hey! What is going on here?"

Forcefully, she grabbed the first of her children she could reach under their arms, and ended up dragging a kicking and screeching Anna-Kat away from her older brother.

"No! You, sit," Katie commanded, and planted her youngest firmly on her ass on the ground. Anna-Kat crossed her arms and pouted angrily. Katie turned to Oliver.

"What is going on?" She asked, throwing her hands in the air. "Ask her!" Oliver yelled, clutching a hand to his arm, "She just randomly attacked me!"

"You murdered my pony!"

"What are you even talking about!"

"Oliver, quiet!" Katie commanded. "Anna-Kat, what happened?"

Arms still crossed, Anna-Kat answered, "He slammed his locker door on one of my ponies' heads!"

"Oliver, is that true?"

Oliver's eyes widened. "Are you kidding me, how was I even supposed to know that it was there? It's not my fault she still needs those things because she has no friends! Then she went all crazy on me!"

"Aaaaaah!" With a yell, Anna-Kat burst forward and jumped at Oliver. The older boy screeched, and together they tumbled down to the floor and started wrestling for the upper hand. Or, you know, something like that.

"Alright, that's it!" Katie leaned down and, without a second thought, grabbed each of her children with one hand by the ear.

Now she was holding them up like trophies. Power move.

"Mom, what are you doing? You're embarrassing me!" Oliver whined.

Katie pouted in faked empathy. "Well, you should have thought about that before hitting on your sister. That came out wrong, scratch it."

"I think we are both very clear on the fact that Anna-Kat and Oliver are being suspended for this kind of behavior." Ablin stated.

"Oh, believe me, Principal Ablin, I would've taken those two home with me either way."

With an elaborate tug on their ears, Katie started walking down the hallways, her two children involuntarily following.

She didn't drag them by their ears all the way, though. She wasn't the best mother, but she wasn't downright abusive, either. Also, no one could have borne to hear these two complain the entire way to the school gate anyway.

"I don't even understand what is going on between the two of you lately." Just in front of the car, she came to a halt and faced her children. "I mean, I'm used to Oiver and Taylor going at it, or even Taylor and Anna-Kat, but you two? Come on, you're the smart ones in the family! You were supposed to take the other's side, not rip them to pieces!"

Katie sighed and shook her car keys out of her pocket.

While she rounded the minivan, Oliver made his way to his side of the backseat, and pulled on the door handle. When it didn't open, he frowned.

"Mom, you didn't unlock the back of the car."

"Hm?" Katie raised her eyebrows. "Oh, that's my bad. Did I forget to tell you? The two of you are walking home today."

"What?!" "Mama!"

Oliver threw his arms up and Anna-Kat stomped her foot on the ground in protest.

"That's not fair!"

"Oh, I think very well it is." Katie told him. "The two of you are going to spend some time together, where you don't have any other choice than to get along. At home, you can flee into your room, and at school you can escape into class, but not here."

She pulled the car door open.

"Oliver, you're going to watch Anna-Kat, so she doesn't get run over by a car. I trust you. Have fun!" Smiling, she sat in the driver's seat, and, with a loud growl that could've been either the engine of the car, or the sound of Oliver's spirit being crushed, drove away.

Sighing, he turned to his sister.

"She has officially gone insane," Anna-Kat said.

At least that was one thing they could both agree on.

**

Walking home with Anna-Kat proved to be just how Oliver had predicted it to: awkward, silent, and, most of all, full of angry glances at each other and the occasional, "accidental" shove.

It was a true fraternity from out of a book.

About one third in, Oliver took off his backpack and began to rummage around in it. Anna-Kat eyed him from the side as he pulled out an old camera.

"What is that?" She asked.

Oliver slung the strap around his neck. "A candlestick." He answered dryly.

Anna-Kat rolled her eyes. "Very funny, I know that it's a camera. I just wanted to know what you were doing with it."

"Well then, ask that." Oliver raised the viewfinder to his eyes after putting the cap back in his backpack.

"Just answer my question, dummy!"

"Hey, don't call me that!"

"Don't act like it!" She stuck out her tongue at him.

Oliver stuck his tongue out at her back.

"My research told me that Harvard doesn't only value integrity and business knowledge, but also creativity and perceptiveness." He raised the camera again to take a trial photo.

"And what better way to show them that I am all of those things than snapping some amazing photographs?"

Anna-Kat frowned. "But ... you're not perceptive, or very creative," she said. "I've seen your art projects. The weird kids in my grade can do better than that. You know, the ones that put toothpaste on their no-no parts."

Oliver gave her a tight-lipped, big smile. Anna-Kat's eyes widened.

That was it.

"Evil smile," she breathed out. Mama had always talked about it, but seeing it... "It reminds me of the bad guy in my movies when they turn around in a big chair, stroking a cat. Very evilly."

Oliver tilted his head. "Thanks. I've actually been kind of working towards that."

He snapped a photo when they passed a blooming dahlia. Anna-Kat looked around in awe.

"I didn't know our way home went through the rich part of Westport," she said. Oliver looked up from his camera display.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. That's probably the part where Mom would start talking about something that only interests you, but she thinks catches all of our attention, so we don't look out the windows too much."

Another picture of a crow on a street lantern.

"I never get distracted, though. I like watching this. Reminds me of what I want to achieve in my life."

Anna-Kat turned to look at her older brother. Oliver was slightly bending down to capture a nicer shot of a cream-colored house.

She took in the surrounding area of grand mansions with imposing structures, iron gates, and juicy green lawns. The beauty of it all did a favor of reminding her just how much she and her family contrasted from all that wealth.

Maybe they did not fit in as well as they had thought, after all.

The continuous click of the camera was the only sound that Oliver took notice of for the next few moments. He circled his lens around the landscape, continuously looking for another image to shoot.

His hands stopped dead in their movement, when he caught a figure on the top of a hill.

He noticed the property as a part of another residence, probably their perception of a front lawn.

As far as the camera could manage, he did his best to zoom in on the other person sitting on a bench in the grass. The young boy was hunched over, seeming lost in something in his lap. The sunlight was shining down at him and lighting up the image of his hair, a mix of strawberry red and blond.

Oliver breathed out to steady his hand. Then he pressed down on the shutter. The image of the boy, sitting on the bench, sunlight framing his silhouette like a golden aura, now forever captured in his hands.

Oliver grinned down at the display. Maybe he did have some sort of perception.

"Can we leave now?" Anna-Kat whined, and ripped him out of his hypnotizing contemplation. Oliver suppressed a groan.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming. Hold your horses." He hid his self-satisfied grin at the pun behind a duck of his head, as he put the camera back in his bag.

They fell into an evenly step as they continued their walk home.

**

"Mom, my lunch money! " "Mom, did you already wash my new shirt? I wanted to wear it to school today." "Mama, I can't find my second shoe!"

"Don't you just love afterweekend mornings?" Katie sighed at Greg, one hand perched at her hip, watching chaos unfold on the lower floor of her house. "Kids, let's go!"

Just like any other morning, but maybe a bit more hectic, the Otto family's minivan raced over the streets of Westport. Taylor giggled when a raging gardener cursed at Katie's driving that had stirred up his pile of dead leaves. Oliver took one last look at his chemistry test substance.

"Alright, we're here," His mother announced when they reached the sidewalk. "Now, get out, before you're late to class." Oliver was just about to slam the door, when Katie leaned out of the window and threw a closer look at a banner being stretched over the entrance gate. "Oh, a Winter Formal dance?" She turned to Oliver. "Wouldn't that be fun?"

"Only seniors are invited. Sorry, Mom. Bye, love you!" Oliver hurried up the steps into the school. Rushing to his locker, he almost bumped into Steve Treshor.

"Watch it," the senior scolded, and Oliver only rolled his eyes when the older man was way behind him. Blindly turning the numbercode into the lock, his eyes raced over his chemistry notes. Maybe he should've really studied more for that test. After he gathered his necessary textbooks for first period, Oliver threw the locker closed again, desperately fumbling for his notes buried somewhere under all of his books. He felt something slipping from his arm, but didn't pay it mind, kept walking anyways. That was, until he heard a voice shout from behind him.

"Hey, amigo! I think you dropped something."

Oliver froze.

When he slowly turned around, like a man being held at gunpoint, brown eyes wide, a boy was standing before him, probably around his age, but much taller, so that Oliver had to look up at him, with red-blond locks and a knitted crewneck sweater. But the expensive kind.

Oliver swallowed. He knew that boy. He had printed out a photograph of him just two days prior. He was the golden boy on the bench.

Oliver Otto met Cooper Bradford for the first time on a Monday. When gardeners started raking leaves, and Principal Ablin went around throwing flyers for the Winter Formal Dance like they were freshly baked bread rolls.

Olliver Otto met Cooper Bradford on a Monday. Today was that day.

Money is the anthem of success So before we go out, what's your address? [...] Money is the reason we exist Everybody knows it, it's a fact (kiss, kiss)

-National Anthem, Lana Del Rey

[fumifooms]

i saw your post about mickbell and rin and i wonder what you think about mickbell x chilchuck?

Mickrin has gotten too real tbh I’m planning a new long af meta post for them… As for mickchuck… Eh it’s a fine and fun ship, I haven’t gotten the angle/manifesto yet though. They have a lot of comedic potential and I do love their mini arc in the background in canon of Mick thinking he’s a self-important greedy asshole, meeting him and getting protected by him, talking it out and he ends up implicitly joining the half-foot union~ But I don’t think they actually mesh well. Being foils to each other though there’s inherently a lot that could be played with tho. I really like this small Mick & Chil comparison thread on poverty for example

What tips the scale in favor of them getting along? They both like to joke and good cheer, like when Mick tells jokes and funny anecdotes to his party at a tavern in a daydream hour extra. They couldn’t drink together much though because Mick has no alcohol tolerance and gets sleepy fast, see the alcohol chart. I could totally see a scenario where Chil peer pressures him to drink in his evil little schemes to have a laugh at the expense of others though that’d be a fun fic I bet. Also they’re both able to be serious when it counts, I could see them being coworkers and it not being horribly, they’re both careful with money too so that helps. In canon they were able to grow to a spot where they got along decent.

Ok and what in favor of them not getting along? Oh god they would butt heads so so much. They’re both very proud people but in different ways for opposite reasons. Mick doesn’t like to be bossed around or when people have like, for a lack of a better phrasing too much morals lol, like when Kabru said they wouldn’t steal the corpse retrievers’ money. Meanwhile Chilchuck hating not being on the right side of the law and looking down on half-foots who like, ~demean themselves and give a bad reputation to half-foots while doing so~ like pretending to be kids for scams is a whooole thing and important to his character. Like mentioned earlier they took very different proached to poverty and just as I don’t think Mick would apologize for having had to do crime it’s convictions that are deepseated for Chilchuck and partly built on a foundation of trauma and defense mechanism, wanting to be a model minority and shifting blame ykyk. I think Chil saving Mick gained him a lot of points in Mick’s esteem but I do think mutual respect would be a bumpy road with these two, though I can see it. What I do struggle with though is seeing them fall in love or working out in a romantic relationship.

There’s a lot but honestly the age gap doesn’t do it favors for me at all, I do think it’d influence their relationship platonic or otherwise, I have trouble not seeing the mentor angle but Mick could vehemently reject it which could even the fields out I suppose hmm. Because Mick’s deal is clinging onto power imbalance in relationships bc it makes him feel safer, because he’s broke and unlovable and obvi if someone has the opportunity to they’ll leave him behind etc etc, idk I think for him it’s best in a romantic relationship to be as even as possible, though this is a nebulous statement. I think he’s a bit hyperaware/hypervigilant when it comes to power dynamics, subconsciously, both bc he has to be careful with those as someone from a vulnerable class in vulnerable circumstances but also because that’s the oense he sees relationships through as well, if there’s an age or maturity imbalance I do think he’d latch onto that, wether really being comforted and dependent on Chilchuck’s "I’ll take care of everything" side or being put off by his air of importance because he has an aversion to authority. I dooo like that Chilchuck is very confrontational about others’ flaws because I think Mick needs that, but I also think Chilchuck is too proud and singeing to drive the points home well hm, too personal and impersonal at once. I’ll give it this thoughhh Mick having an intense fear of abandonment that turns his relationship abusive meanwhile Chilchuck’s wife left him? Oh hohoho tasty. Especially since I do think part of Chilchuck’s situation was neglecting his wife’s feelings and taking her for granted, borderline dismissive of her worries and being generally averse to analyze his or his family’s flaws… Two guys, sitting in a tree clinging onto people in diametrically opposed ways crying about their most important person leaving them. I do like for Mick when getting into a relationship is a way to cope with the Too Much fear and posssessiveness and everything he feels with Kuro, expanding on his social circle in the most convoluted ill advised way gdbdg. I just knowww mickchuck would be hella toxic but if someone writes a fic where they get somewhere good earnestly that’d be so interesting, just very shaky grounds but like I can see slivers of it in my mind it’d be dope.

But yeah like, would they balance each other well? Hmm. I def think Chil could teach a lot to Mick about relationships and emotional maturity but he’s not exactly great at either feelings or relationships as well yk lmaoo, and I don’t really think it’s mutual in that, I guess Mick could call Chil out on his pride but I don’t think he’d really change Chil for the better in his own right you know. Part of why I think there’s an imbalance also I guess. In every way Chil just has More and they don’t really know each other/what’s best for each other esp since they don’t really earnestly see each other in canon idk idk am I making sense. Chil’s not good at seeing others’ perspectives and he’s not really sensitive in general even when talking about topics where he should be, I think it’s a coin flip if he even tries or not depending on the situation.

Obligatory "How does Kuro fit into this Mickbell ship" but I think- How possessive Kuro gets in canon is up in the air bc we don’t work off a lot, I do think Kuro might get scared if Mick gets very close to Chil because he’s also worried about getting separated from Mick. The union leader? The union Mickbell alwayss told him he couldn’t join because they’d take Kuro away from him? They wouldn’t agree to them being together they would steal him etc etc? I see a lot of ground for him being antsy. Ohh yeah I forgot to mention it earlier but I def think Chilchuck would be horrified at the Mick & Kuro situation and be quick to be very vocal about it. It’s mister working rights advocate it’s mister "you’re sick in the head Laios" idk that’s an explosion waiting to happen I think. Ok but where I actually wanted to get to is that I love in Mick ships when Kuro is very happy because "Mick’s making friends!! He’s such an anxious child but he’s opening up to the world again aw yay" super supportive because of the Kuro extra comic with Kabru haha, even then there’s def ground for conflicted feelings, but yes I think it’s fun when Kuro is the emotional support very supportive of the relationship and happy of "Mickbell’s growth" meanwhile the relationship could be radioactively toxic but he doesn’t notice bc 1) toxic relationships is what he’s used to and he doesn’t notice it’s off 2) Mickbell is an angel who could do no wrong.

Also a note: I’ve been thinking of making a translation psa about it but Chilchuck’s type for blondes is specific to the golden type, bc in japanese the word was kinpatsu 金髪, which yes is used to refer to many shades but literally translates as ~gold hair~ and from what we see in canon it does seem to be specific to the golden shade, especially since Falin’s hair is infamously described as light brown (shown in picture below) so dirty blonde doesn’t quite cut it bc of different cultural conceptions of colors. Which, yk, it’s anyone’s choice what they want this to mean for their ship, wether it’s still a "close enough" and gets Mickbell pretty points or if it sparks nothing idk. Yk me though I think it’s so romantic when someone’s in love with someone who’s not their ideal type it’s so <3

What I’d love to see for them ship or otherwise is- They both live in Kahka Brud, Chilchuck opens a general store post-canon, Mickbell opens a variety store post-canon… Business rivals when. The potential for sitcom shojo shenanigans is immense

So yes yes, interesting ship, lots to work with there, idk if they’d make each other better or worse but it’d be an entertaining trainwreck at the very least I’m sure. If it wasn’t clear my fave angle for them is prob the bonding over poverty trauma, I bet you dan do a lot of fun shojo plots and enemies to lovers energy and whatnot. Hopefully this was good food for thought idk I love Chilchuck I love Mickbell now I need to see them duel to the death. Their "I am not a person who can be loved for a very long time" swagger 💔

[miracleandplagueau]

So, here's a thing about Marinette.

She is a kind, rather cultured person, agrees to a lot of things, but also knows when to stand her ground and say no. The averagest of average protagonist models you can write with the exception of her obsessive personality trait. About Derision later, but she might possibly be one of the blandest characters I've seen in popular media

While watching Demon Slayer's finale yesterday, I realized something. Marinette is very much like Tanjiro. She can be both kind and badass when needed, be humble and be confident whenever the writers need her to be. Marinette is like Tanjiro -- written to be liked. She wasn't written to be unique or stand out from the crowd nor was she ever supposed to make a breakthrough in how to write a compelling protagonist to root for. She is a vessel. An empty vessel to watch in the background, because once you start analyzing her, it's over for your sanity

But why is she so hated then... She's so kind, so extremely helpful. A person everyone can get along with (famous people count too I suppose), but she also has her own frustrations like deal with brats who apparently targetted her as their victim for no apparent reason!! She has struggl-- It's nothing new. Look at it a little closer, go in depth and tell me that she has a consistent personality. She's more of a big pile of clay that the writers will model and shape according to their mood and how they want a certain storyline to end. Even Chat Noir has more consistent personality than her despite being neglected by both his own father and the writers. I guess more isn't always the merrier.

Is it actually hard to give YOUR PROTAGONIST a DAMN CONFLICT?! HER ONLY CONFLICT IS WHETHER SAYING "HI" TO ADRIEN WILL RUIN THEIR FUTURE TOGETHER. GIVE HER FLAWS GIVE HER CONSEQUENCES MAKE HER LEARN THE LESSON THE HARD WAY

Actually, I take it back. There is one conflict. Well, "conflict" or rather a turning moment for her is when she loses all miraculouses, which is followed by a nasty panic attack. That's it. That's all I could think of from the top of my head.

The only thing that really makes her stand out is her obssessive nature towards Adrien and we got some insight on why in the season 5 episode Derision and you know what I have to say about that? Fucking BULLSHIT. In a very short summary, Marinette crushed on Kim, but he humiliated her whilst working with Chloe. After that event, she decided she will only confess to someone when she knows them through and through. Putting aside the fact that we only then found out that Marinette had a friend that wasn't Alya, It's actually a total asspull in terms of Kim's behavior. Why would Marinette be friendly to Kim in Dark Cupid when he did something like THAT to her? Why is he potrayed as a funny, a little misguided himbo in the friend group - did nobody actually know about what's happened? I mean obviously they had to so why is everyone pretending like everything is fine? Why is SHE pretending everything is fine? Did she forget?! The answer is no, because Derision was not planned from the beginning. Thomas heard that his beloved protagonist isn't liked and went back to the drawing board to cook up some fake depth to her. Despite what I said, I'd actually love to see an episode like that, maybe Chloe IS the bitch we're lead to believe she is and I could've accepted it as a valid explanation to both Marinette behavior and her cruel, unchanging nature....

IF IT WAS IN SEASON ONE OR TWO

Putting a lore piece like that in the final season of the story is actually fucking ridiculous. Do you really expect me to care NOW?! When we're like 15 episodes from the FINALE OF THE SHOW? Na-ah, absolutely fucking not

Everytime I see a post praising Derision for how well written it is my stomach does a fucking cartwheel this is not an exaggeration

Marinette is like Zoe except Marinette is actually an asshole sometimes. It would be good If she was! I want to see an asshole protagonist where I'll have to see them change before I start rooting for them, but Marinette is neither changing, evolving or facing consequences. Using a miraculous for her personal gain and lashing out as Ladybug on Lila? it was a good fucking moment. I found it uncomfortable and embarassing to watch AND THAT'S A GOOD THING. IT HAD LONG LASTING CONSEQUENCES in form of Lila being a menance in return. Then again, I can't exactly praise Lila because she's equally as stupid- sorry, everyone's brains and common sense seem to evaporate when they're in Lila's closest proximity, but that's where they're similar. Everyone seems to lose their awareness when Marinette does her puppy eyes to break into a house too.

She is genuinely getting harder to watch and don't even get me started on season 5 because I've seen the leaks alright

[whytheylosttheirminds]

home for the holidays - pt 2 sneak peak

part 2 of home for the holidays is coming together and should be out sometime this week, thank you for your patience!

🎄🎅❄️💋🎄🎅❄️💋🎄🎅❄️💋🎄🎅❄️💋

first 1.5k words of part two below the cut, ho ho ho!!

Somewhere between his house and yours it dawned on Rafe, much to his annoyance, that he had a big, stupid crush on you.

He tried everything to suppress it. He reminded himself that you didn't like him, that you probably thought you were better than him. He reminded himself how stupid it’d be to get attached to someone only a few months before graduation. 

Jesus, really man? He thought. She’s not your type, Rafe. She hates you. Be a fucking man and pull it together.

But it was the way you were perched in the driver’s seat, scooted all the way forward leaving no room between you and the wheel, smiling as you sand along to Mariah Carey. You looked so soft and cute, the sleeves of his hoodie slipping over your hands as they clutched the steering wheel.

Fuck, he definitely had a crush on you, and he hated having a crush. There was way too much room for rejection. This was one area in which he’d never really grown up, so he opted for his usual defense mechanism - pushing your buttons, like he was ten years old on the playground, pulling your pigtail just to get a reaction.

“So was I right about you not having many hookups in college?” He blurted out sometime during the third replay of All I Want for Christmas is You.

Your head snapped toward him, complete confusion and not even a smidge of amusement on your face.

“What the fuck?” You grumbled. “That’s kinda personal, actually.”

“I’m just saying, I’ve never seen you at parties, and you don’t seem to have a boyfriend. Four years is a long time…”

“Everything is about sex with you, huh? Some of us are actually in college to learn,” you scolded him. It was his intention to push you away, and yet the repulsion in your voice still stung.

“Alright, I’ll stop asking,” he conceded.

“Good,” you huffed, shoulders slumping a little.

He looked over at you every so often, determined to find a flaw, some blemish or ick that he could use as a dealbreaker. This plan backfired terribly, his eyes only discovering more pretty features and cute little mannerisms that made his stomach leap every time he looked at you. He felt like a moth, brainless and hopelessly drawn to the warm light of a lamp that was sure to zap him dead at the slightest touch.

After twenty minutes of freezing him out for his “no hookups” comment, you gasped and excitedly pointed out the first of many road signs for your hometown, your annoyance with him replaced with excitement as the signs advertised you were getting closer and closer to home. 

Then you finally gave him something to resent you for. After a remark about how excited you were to see your family, you looked over at him with big, kind eyes, nervously broaching the topic with a light touch on his arm, “I’m sorry about your family leaving you behind. That totally sucks.”

There was a softness in your tone that was so warm and inviting it made him want to jump out of the moving car. He knew he was fucked up for being mad that you were being nice, but he couldn’t help it, the tenderness in your gaze made him feel like a wounded puppy, and he hated your pity.

He pulled his arm away from your gentle fingers like they’d hurt him.

“I’m fine,” he snapped. “They didn’t leave me, it was just a miscommunication.”

You withdrew in more ways than one, pulling your hand back and falling awkwardly silent. Rafe kicked himself mentally, of course just when you’d started to come around to him, he pushed you away. Little did those girls in your dorm know, that was the true Rafe Cameron special.

“So, uh, you were saying something about presents for your brothers? How old are they?” He asked, praying he hadn’t made you shut down for good, trying to re-stoke the fires of the friendship you had been building since you offered for him to come home with you.

You were chewing on your nails, picking at the dead skin nervously. At his prompting you started to speak again, though a bit less enthusiastically than before he’d shut you down.

“Uhm, well,” you sat up a little. “There’s Luke, he’s sixteen. And then Reese is thirteen and Bennett is ten.”

“Fun ages,” he nodded, wincing at his cliché words.

“They are fun,” you nodded, a smile returning to your lips at the thought of your little brothers. The sight of you smiling again soothed the ache in his chest and he leaned back into his seat, full of relief.

“Luke is such a teenage boy, too cool for everything. I got him some Nike cleats because he plays football, he’ll pretend he doesn’t like them but I think he’ll wear them. And Reese is quieter, he’s always been a bit more sensitive. He wants to be a photographer, so I got him a vintage Polaroid camera. Benny was the easiest to shop for,” you smiled at the thought of your baby brother, Rafe could tell you had a special love for him. “I got him one of those giant gummy bears that comes in its own plastic case. It cost a fraction of what I spent on the other two but I guarantee you he’ll be the most excited.”

“I’m sure they’ll all like what you got them,” he assured you.

“They better, they cost me a whole paycheck,” you huffed, thinking of all the hours you’d worked slinging drinks at your college’s go-to student bar to pay for the presents that were currently sitting in your trunk.

“It’s better than what I got my sisters,” he reminded you with a laugh.

“Hey! I spent six whole dollars on those souvenirs!” You scolded him, smiling at the memory of the crappy little knick-knacks in the backseat.

“And I’m sure they’ll love them,” he agreed.

“What about your sisters? How old are they?” You asked.

Surely, you were just being polite, keeping the conversation going after he’d asked about your brothers. But he wanted nothing less than to talk about his family right now, the thought of them all hanging out at the Bahama house, completely forgetting that he existed, still stung fresh. He wondered if Sarah and Wheezie even asked his dad where he was, why he wasn’t on the plane. Maybe they were relieved to celebrate the holiday without him annoying them, he probably deserved it. 

“Hey, isn’t that your exit?” He pointed at the highway sign, advertising that the off ramp to your hometown was only half-a-mile away, trying to distract you from your question.

“Yes!” It worked, you sat up in your seat, excitedly pressing a little harder on the gas as you celebrated the proximity to home.

“Woah, slow down, I’d like to celebrate Christmas alive,” he joked as the needle on the speedometer climbed higher and higher.

“Oh shit sorry,” you giggled, pulling your foot back to slow down a little. “I’m just excited. It’s gonna be so cozy. My dad will have put a bunch of colored lights all over the front of the house, and the tree will be up, probably a fire going and Christmas music playing. I can’t wait to see them!”

His jealousy was almost debilitating. What must it be like to feel this excited to go home? To know what was waiting for you was going to bring you so much joy? He wanted what you had so badly, he was tempted to reach out and touch you just to see if he could absorb your happiness by osmosis.

The little town you called home was just as small as Rafe was picturing, if not more. Though, the tiny houses lining the main street were decked to the nines with Christmas decorations, so much merriment in such a tiny little hamlet. The further into the country you drove, green street signs giving way to rickety, hand-painted ones, the more he felt like he understood you.

You smiled at all the lights, body absolutely buzzing with each turn that brought you towards home. Finally, you turned on a long dirt road, past a field of horses Rafe recognized as the farm you said you grew up next to. Approaching a mailbox with your last name on it, your smile fell from your lips, eyebrows creasing as you turned onto the property.

At the end of the long driveway was a small little split level home Rafe surmised to be yours, only where he expected a display of twinkling christmas decor, there was only one single flickering porch light. If he hadn’t known better, he’d assume the family who lived here didn’t celebrate Christmas at all.

“What the hell?”

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Your most recent post about how you would(n’t) use Lila was interesting, because after I read how you’d handle a Chloe redemption I thought Lila would make a good counterpart to Chloe for Adrien, an object lesson about how some people can’t/don’t want to be redeemed.

Start out before or near the beginning of the redemption arc with Chloe as the bully with a long history of misdeeds to make up for, and Lila as (Adrien and the audience thinks) a nervous newcomer who told some lies for attention/popularity. Adrien might even think of her situation as Easy Mode or good practice for helping Chloe. Then time goes on, and as Chloe shows signs of improvement, Lila gradually reveals her true nature.

(Chloe post and Lila post for context)

I don't totally disagree. There are versions of canon where Lila and Chloe would be good choices for a nuanced discussion on redemption. For example, if canon was all about the teenage characters and had no adult villains, then Lila would be a great choice for damnation! The problem is that canon didn't take that route or really any route where Lila feels like a good addition to the cast, let alone someone worthy of being Chloe's counterpart in a lesson about the nuances of redemption.

The main plot of Miraculous should have been Gabriel's reveal and downfall. The point of Chloe's redemption should have been prepping Adrien for said reveal and downfall. Through her, Adrien first learns how to cut off someone you love and then learns how to decide if you want to bring that person back into your life. That is a full and complete lesson. Trying to repeat the lesson or supplement the lesson with Lila feels unnecessary for the same reason I don't like her as the new main villain: she's no one. A total rando with no close ties to Adrien or anyone else. Adrien wanting to help her is fine in theory, but hard to see as a valuable addition because she doesn't matter to his character. We have his father, his close childhood friend, and a random girl he barely knows. One of these things is not like the other. That lack of depth removes most or even all of the emotional impact that a failed Lila redemption would have on Adrien. It's not going to have much of an impact on the audience either unless you make some serious changes to Lila.

One of the show's biggest flaws is that Lila is not a functional character. She has no clear motivations, backstory, or even a strong tie to the main plot of seasons one to five, making it hard to care about her. To have her damnation have any sort of emotional impact on the audience, you need to give her those things and have her develop actual relationships. Without that depth, she's an incredibly weak addition to the story who is only here to be a two-dimensional villain. The audience doesn't want her to be redeemed. We want to see her go down! Those are the wrong emotions for a lesson on failed redemption. Failed redemption should be a tragedy if you want the lesson to hit properly. It's easy to give up on people we don't really care about. It's hard to give up on people we love.

Add in the facts that Miraculous already has too many characters and that Chloe's redemption would be a subplot amidst everything else that's going on and I just don't see Lila being worth the screen time it would take to let her have a proper damnation when you're already giving Gabriel a damnation. Plus it's kind of depressing to have one redemption against two damnations and I like to keep the sad elements limited so that they really pop. Damning Lila and then Gabriel would make Gabriel's damnation feel less powerful.

Even if the plan was to redeem Gabriel, I still wouldn't use Lila as our damnation case study. I'd use Nathalie. She's far more interesting and has an actual tie to the overall plot, making her super easy to involve. Her and Gabriel share the screen constantly, making it very easy to contrast them as the story goes on. You can't really do that with Lila and Chloe because Lila and Chloe would never team up in a story where Chloe gets a redemption arc. Canon had to add Chloe's Marinette obsession to make the Lila & Chloe plot work and Chloe's redemption doesn't work if she hates Marinette to that extreme. I don't think that version of Chloe is beyond redemption, but I would never redeem her into Marinette's friend group. Seasons-four-and-five Chloe needs a fresh start with people she hasn't hurt. I don't know if she could ever be friends with Marinette and I don't particularly care to see it.

I love a good redemption, but part of writing those is knowing that there are lines that a character can't cross if you want them to be forgiven and accepted by your core cast later on. It's that whole romanticizing the cycle of abuse thing that I've discussed before re enemies-to-lovers stories and the general concept of redeeming Gabriel. I get why people like it, it's a wonderful fantasy, but for me it's an incredibly hard sell. My suspension of disbelief almost always breaks, leaving me feeling sad and unsatisfied.

[dozing-marshmallow]

Can you make Don x co-host!reader (nonbinary) where reader was once Chris's co-host, but because he treated them like crap they decide to quit him before they start working together with Don? It's more like a platonic scenario, but if you want, you can make it romantic

Ohhh of course! Hope you enjoy!!

Just to clarify, I haven’t watched the Ridonculous Race and I don’t plan to, but I have read up on the cast and the premise so excuse me if there’s any inaccuracies with Don’s character.

DON X CO-HOST!READER ONE SHOT

Underpaid and mistreated (Y/N), your boss Chris McLean ordered you to conduct one of the interviews for the next season host position.

You forgot why you even wanted to work here.

"Start by working with someone who's more experienced" they said "You'll get your chance at fame in no time" they said.

Fame. Hah. Good one.

You walk down to Ground Floor and saw an unfamiliar man sitting in the waiting lobby. His hair was a neat chestnut colour, he had a clean face and wore a tidy suit.

You approach him,"Hello, you must be the candidate for the new season host."

The man glances up and stands tall,“Yes, that would be me.”

“Excellent. This way please.”

He follows you into the office.

“I must say, it’s a great honour to be interviewed by you.” the gentleman claims as he sits up straight in the chair.

“Oh, thank you.” you’ve done this long enough to keep a straight face whenever someone attempts flattery,“Alright, so good morning, I hope you are well. As you’re aware, I am (Y/N) (L/N), current co-host of the Total Drama show and I will be conducting your interview today. First and foremost, have you watched Total Drama and are aware of what it involves?”

“Of course.”

The rest of the interview went as expected until the end.

"Finally, do you have any questions for me?” you asked, your tone still devoid of excitement.

“Yes." The man, whose name was Don, answered,"I wanted to ask if you’re happy with your job.”

“Huh?” you gaze up from your note taking to meet Don's attentive, geniune one.

“Yeah, uh." a jocund smile breaks out on his lips,"You don’t seem very delighted, especially when we were talking about your boss. I must say, you don’t seem too fond of him.”

...This took an unusual turn,“Who, Chris? Nah, he’s fine. He’s just got a lot of flaws, but we all do.”

He leans in marginally,“Well judging by your expression, you seem like you could use some new company.”

“Is this your way of trying to charm me into getting you to be more considered than other applicants?” you ask, piling the papers up and hitting them on the table to even them out.

“Not at all. All I’m saying is that this job, is a pretty big deal and should I be lucky to get it, I wanna take you with me.”

As if this interview couldn't have gotten weirder,“Why? This job description mentions that a co-host of any sort will not be necessary.”

“When was the last time your boss gave you a vacation?”

Good point. Chris never pays you enough to miss a day or two for yourself.

“Look, I’ll even add it at the bottom of my contract.” Don declared and he did, as much as he could fit.

You smirk,“Well, alright then. Sign it whenever you’re ready.”

"You have my word." he affirms, scratching his signature on the line of dots,"I'm specifically keen on sticking to rules and deals."

It sounded too good...“Just so you know, this decision is ultimately up to Team Total Drama.” you remind, making it clear you could not promise anything.

His ambition did not fade a bit,“Influenced by the feedback you give.”

Why hadn't they hired someone like him from the beginning?

Better late than never.

Yep. He was hired!

When you heard it, you immediately revoked your contract with Chris; although a very insulting farewell, it didn't stop your feeling of freedom nor how Ridonculous Race was like World Tour, but a gazillion times better.

You thought it was just you, but one day, a few months after the full season was aired, you had an encounter with Don that would change everything.

"Would you look at that! This year's season of Total Drama has gained more fan approval than the three seasons Chris hosted in the previous years combined!"

Your eyebrow perks up in surprise,"Really?"

He nods, proudly showing you the numbers on his tablet,"It's quite the sight!"

You take a glance. 

And another.

You couldn't believe it. These ratings were phenomenal. Just phenomenonal. You thought it was a joke, but after confirming the legitimacy of the site to yourself, your jaw drops.

"You know what this shows?" Don asks, holding the tablet to his side.

"What does it show, Don?" the mesmerised repeat left your tongue rhetorically.

"One, the network was completely right about accepting a new host this time around." he triumphantly lists,"And two, I was completely right about bringing you alongside me."

You couldn't resist the smile on your face at the beauty of how well things turned out,"Well, colour me impressed."

"It seems like our former host lost more than he bargained for." he grins, curling his arm around your neck,"You're not planning on going back to him in case he gets another season launched, are you?"

You granted him a heartless laugh, fingers reaching to his hand,"Never again."