#try as i may cameron winter

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

The hot tub | Rafe Cameron x Reader

Advent calendar day three: Ski trip

Summary: Rafe invites you to spend the week with his family at their cabin in Aspen. Things may happen when you get in the hot tub after a long day going down the slopes

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p + v, slight choking, semi-public (outside), impact play (spanking once)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

As expected, the Cameron’s cabin in Aspen was breath-takingly beautiful. The walls of the living area were made of round wood, making it seem like you were living inside a tree…with a luxury decor. There were large windows, massive couches, cherry-wood tables, and a classic bear skin in front of the large fireplace. 

You felt like you were standing in a holiday Hallmark movie. 

‘’How many properties does your parents own?’’ You brushed your hand over the plush throw at the end of your and Rafe’s bed, smiling at how soft it felt. ‘’Don’t they have a house in the Bahamas?’’ 

‘’A lot,’’ Rafe replied while putting away some things in the closet. ‘’I lost count, honestly. My dad collects estates and Rose decorates them, it’s their thing,’’ he explained. ‘’I rent the ones we are not using...except the Bahamas house. We keep that one for family only.’’

You nodded, secretly wishing your parents were that rich. You could get used to vacationing in the mountains during winter break. It’s a weather contrast compared to South Carolina. 

‘’Do you come here often? Have you mastered a winter sports during your lavish vacations?’’ 

Rafe chuckled, closing the door of the large closet. ‘’I can’t ski, if that’s what you’re asking me. Or skate. Ice skating is Sarah’s thing.’’ He grabbed his toiletry bag from the suitcase and placed it in the en-suite bathroom next to yours. ‘’My dad forced me to take snowboarding lessons since I was a kid, but I was better at flirting with girls at the ski resort.’’

Shaking your head, you laughed quietly. ‘’What am I not surprised?’’ 

After everyone had unpacked, you bundled in your winter layers and headed down to the ski resort for some winter activities. You and Rafe rented equipment to go down the slopes while Sarah and Wheezie went to the skating rink. 

The afternoon was spent mostly falling on your ass and watching Rafe showing off. He was no professional, but you were impressed as you watched him do stunts — something you could never see yourself doing. 

When the sky started to go dark, you returned to the cabin to warm up and eat dinner. Rose’s cooking skills pleasantly took you by surprise, not expecting her to be much of a chef since she and Ward had a lot of money, but she made a mean baked mac’n cheese. 

‘’Are you sure?’’ you said when Rafe suggested you try the hot tub. 

You had never used a hot tub in the winter — with actual snow around. It sounded cold, but Rafe assured you the warm water would keep you warm…or else he would.

The sky was fully dark outside and snow was falling at a slow pace, creating a beautiful picture as you stepped out in your bra and underwear. When you packed for a trip to Aspen, you didn’t think you would need a bikini. Now you were regretting not bringing one. 

While the warm water sounded pleasant, you couldn’t help but think about how the chlorine of the hot tub will ruin your nice bra, so Rafe came up with a solution.

‘’Just take it off.’’ 

‘’I’m not gonna get naked in the hot tub,’’ you replied, shooting your boyfriend a glare as steam rose from the tub into the cool air. ‘’What if your family comes outside and wants to join?’’ 

‘’I’d rather they don’t. The sight of you in that bra and panties got me so hard,’’ Rafe said, his hand wandering up your thigh. 

You glanced down and through the bubbles of the underwater jets, catching the outline of his cock through his boxers, strained against the material. A light flush covered your cheeks, matching the color of your bra. 

‘’But if you’re that worried about anyone coming,’’ he continued, taking your hand and helping you step in. ‘’My dad strained his back when skiing so Rose is taking care of him. Sarah is probably trying to contact her boyfriend who was not invited on the trip, and as for Wheezie…I don’t know. She’s in her room, reading or watching a movie.’’

You sat on the edge and raised your gaze, eyeing the sliding doors. 

‘’No one is gonna come out here,’’ Rafe promised, reading your persistent worry. ‘’Except maybe a bear.’’

A new fear was unlocked. You turned to the other side and looked over the deck and into the dark forest. ‘’A bear?!’’ 

Rafe grinned, messing with you. ‘’I’m joking. There’s no bears here at this time of the year. They’re hibernating.’’ He hooked a finger underneath the delicate band of your panties, holding back from taking them off with his mouth. ‘’So…will it be with or without the panties?’’

Fuck it. 

You removed both items and let Rafe pull you in the water, the ripples from the jets causing sparks to tingle up your spine as they hit your bare cunt. It felt like using a nice shower head directly on your clit, but less strong. The pleasure was short-lived as Rafe settled you on his lap in a straddling way, a groan leaving his throat when your ass came in contact with his stiff cock. 

You bit back a giggle and loosely slid your arms around his neck. He was so beautiful.

‘’That wasn’t so difficult, wasn’t it?’’ Rafe asked, his hands sliding over your thighs and up your sides, making you feel a bit exposed. 

You rolled your eyes and rubbed your hands up and down his well-defined shoulders and chest, appreciating the time he had been spending with Topper and Kelce at the gym. They were always ruining your and Rafe’s plans, but those gym sessions gave him a body you wanted to bite into. 

You lowered your mouth to his, slowly kissing as the water moved around your bodies. The cold air had caused your nipples to peak, not yet submerged in the warm water. A shiver ran through you and, as if he had read your mind, Rafe’s hands moved to your breasts and began to toy with them. You sighed at the touch and ground your hips against his, relishing the feeling of his hard cock through his boxers as it rubbed against your clit just right. 

‘’I need you. Now,’’ you urged, breaking the kiss and reaching under the water to pull at Rafe's only piece of clothing, your earlier worries about someone catching you naked leaving your desire clouded mind.

Rafe nodded and pushed you off him, which left you confused. You opened your mouth to ask why he had pushed you off, but he motioned for you to turn around and grab the edge of the tub. A moan threatened to slip, realizing what he was doing. He was going to take you from behind. 

You heard the water swish as he moved behind you, and parted your legs so everything was exposed to his view. 

‘’That ass is so perfect,’’ Rafe groaned, giving it a hard smack, eliciting a pained squeak from you, before lining himself at your entrance, a mischievous smirk spreading on his face as he pushed the tip in — only the tip. ‘’Is that what you want, baby?’’ His tone was teasing, playing with you. ‘’No, that’s not enough, uh?’’ 

You whined, pushing back against him. ‘’Please, Rafe, don’t tease.’’ 

Giving in to your demand, he grabbed your hips and slowly pushed until he was all in, feeling your tight walls squeeze him. He moaned at the sensation, giving you a few seconds before starting to pull out until only his tip was inside you and slowly pushing himself into you again, doing this a few times. 

‘’Rafe,’’ you warned again, your core starting to ache, just wanting to be fucked senseless. 

Then, his thrusts were hard and fast as you gripped the edge of the hot tub, water splashing over the edge from the movements. You were holding back your cries, trying to be quiet, but the pleasure was too intense for you to remember. 

Rafe molded his front to your back as he kept pounding into you, kissing your shoulder as his hand was coming around your neck. ‘’You like this, baby? You like when I fuck your tight and pretty pussy?’’

You moaned louder, forgetting about the other Camerons inside the house. 

The next morning was going to be very awkward.

—

OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx  @sweeterheartxamerica  @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife  @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue  @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker  @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage  @maybankslover @sunflowerziva @laylasbunbunny @Honey-marvel15 @leoluvsur-pappy @slytherhoes @kcskye123 @outerbanksacc  @pedrosprincess  @mikaelsonsstuff  @skyesthebomb  @a1mzcruml3y @iluurmom  @popeheywardssecretgf  @madelynie  @loverofdrewstarkey  @radiant-whore  @outsider-at-hogwarts @luci1fer @bbycowboi @rafecameronsbadussy @urbfsbitchlol @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @Veescorneroftheworld  @papayaboyluvr @slytherinambitious @darylscvmdumpster @tommysaxes @johannelis2302nely @lynbubble  @straberryshortcake143 @beth-gallagher22 @doestalker @rubyliquor @theflcwer @angelxxrose @sierraluvzz @cruzgrecia @evelestrange @sunnysunny133696

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @Shasta89 @sierraluvz @specialk6802  @CZARINERA @katherinejess

[cameronspecial]

Could you make a one shot where the reader grew up with a very loving family (especially her dad) and rafe surprises her with gifts, activities and acts of service that she loves. She gets confused and asks him what’s with the stuff. He says that he’s recently been spending lots of time with her parents and always asks them what reader likes to show that he can meet the bar her dad has set. (And maybe slip in something on how he’ll set his bar with their future daughters and their boyfriends ����🥹). I always look forward to reading ur work and I just wanted to finally ask cuz you write everyone’s requests so well!!

Setting The Standards

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

Y/N loves that Rafe likes to spend time with her parents without her. She finds it sweet that he takes time out of his day to get to know the other people she loves and thinks it is good for him to be around a family that actually treats him with love and attention. Every time Rafe visits her parents, she notices he gives her a gift and does one more chore around the house the way she likes it. A part of her feels like he is trying to condition her, but it wouldn’t really make sense because he is the one doing the visiting. 

One day, she decides to ask him about it. Her parents spent the day with Rafe at her and his shared house while she was at work. They had to leave before she got home because they had to get to her brother’s house to babysit her niece. She places her purse on the side table and pads to the living room. She isn’t surprised to find a box wrapped in flower-patterned wrapping paper and a bow. She approaches it with a smile, tearing into it as soon as she is within arms reach of it. Her instinct to wait for Rafe goes out the window. She didn’t expect to find ketchup chips in the box. Her parents must have told him about how she became obsessed with the snack when they vacationed in Canada a few years ago. Her hands eagerly reach for the bag and pull it open, shoving the red potato slices into her mouth. She moans at the sweet taste that reaches her taste buds. Rafe enters the room with a chuckle, “I see you like the snack I got you.” His feet take him behind her and he reaches into the bag to pop a chip into his mouth. She stares up at him with a smile. “I did. Thank you. What were you doing?”

“I was switching out your winter clothes with your summer ones. The weather is getting warmer so it’s time for flower patterns and shorts, Bumblebee.” He kisses her cheek with his arms around her waist. Butterfly erupts in her stomach. She hates changing between her closets. It takes forever and is so tedious.

“Aww, thank you, Baby. It means a lot that you do all this for me.” She rests her hands on his and they sway for a little until she gets the courage to ask what she has been wanting to ask. “So… I have noticed that whenever you are with my parents, I get gifts and your acts of service are more tailored towards me. I was wondering why.” 

They freeze and he caresses her forearms. “One reason why I love spending time with your parents is that I get to learn small stuff about you that you may not see as important to me. It helps me make you happy and that’s my mission in life.” 

She awws and kisses his cheek, “That’s so sweet, Baby. I wish I could do those things for you.” He brings his hand up to her cheek as a reassurance. “You may not know it, but just being here for me is enough, Bumblebee. Plus, how am I supposed to show our daughter how she should be treated if I don’t lead by example? Because both of you are meant to be treated like queens. I’m just setting the standards.” A heat spreads over her cheeks at the mention of their possible future. It solidifies her belief that he will make a great father one day. “You are going to set the standards so high for her that she will recognize that she only deserves to be married to a king,” Y/N adds. “Thank you for everything that you do for me.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[boneblushed]

Untouchable

masterlist | part 4 | part 5

synopsis So maybe Rafe Cameron isn’t as bad as you thought he was.

wc 4.3k

As the football team files into the locker room after practice, Rafe Cameron jogs ahead, the space filling with sweat and grit. The vague scent of testosterone permeates.

“Dude,” Dalton carps, shoved aside as Rafe pushes past him. “You good?”

“I’m late,” Rafe pants, fishing his towel out of his gym bag before throwing it into his locker. “She told me she’d murder me if I was late to another meeting.”

He’s in too much of a rush to notice the reception this receives, a flurry of knowing looks punctuated by a keen sense of hubris. Kelce and Dalton may be the only two willing to bet on his odds with you, but it’s clear that the rest of the team—the prefects, the graduating class—have picked up on the lingering eye contact and ricocheting glances, the drawn out meetings and nescient closeness.

Not that it matters. September now, with the crisp Autumn chill beginning to unfurl, you maintain the same, safe distance from Rafe Cameron as jilted you had once delineated. Sure, you’re friendlier now, a little softer around the edges, but it’s clear that you’re fighting hard to keep things professional, hold him an arm’s length away and not closer.

He wishes it wouldn’t bother him as much as it does. There’s been a few instances where he’s attempted more than a ride in his pick-up; an invite to whatever lame party his team’s throwing that weekend, an offer to stop by the Burger Shack on the way home. As friends—colleagues. To minimal avail, of course, you’re always giving him the same answer when he asks: “Nice try, Cameron.” Not a yes, not a no, just this odd, taunting response that’s sweetened by your peach scented lipgloss.

His most recent attempt had been just the other week, when a meeting about winter formal had run longer than you’d initially planned. It’d been brought to his attention by a pang of hunger in his abdomen, and he’d pulled up Uber Eats without any sort of ulterior motive.

“What’s your McDonalds order?” He’d asked, looking up at you briefly.

The sun was hanging low on the horizon that evening; he remembers this because of the way it bedaubed the bottom half of your face, accentuated the smooth column of your throat.

Your frown looked prettier in yellow light — that’s another thing he remembers. You’d raised your eyebrows a little, not bothering to look up at him. Another pang. “Why?”

“You’re not hungry, Y/L/N?” He’d asked, raising his in tandem.

“Starving.” You’d glanced up then, frowning harder, prettier. “Maybe you should concentrate on getting this done so we can both go home for dinner.”

“Okay, not McDonalds,” Rafe had acceded, flicking back to the UberEats home screen and leaning in. “Chinese? Thai food? Something fancier? Vending machine crap?”

“Cameron.”

“Y/L/N,” he’d mocked, knocking his shoulder against yours cajolingly. “C’mon, we both need a bit of food. We’ve been at this for fucking hours.”

“So if I say yes,” you’d asked then, angling away and sending him a pointed look, “you’ll let me pay for my own meal?”

Rafe hadn’t missed a beat, scoffing, “Of course not.”

You’d sighed, “Exactly.” And then, “Nice try, Cameron.”

Like clockwork. He’s thinking about it now, mostly about the way his name moulds your gloss-shiny lips, when Kelce’s voice breaks his reverie.

“Pussy whipped,” he coughs, earning a few stifled laughs from the rest of the football team.

Rafe’s about to rise to the bait when his conscience forces a falter, reminding him of the last time you were brought up in this locker-room. He’s constantly, incessantly taunted by the stupid, sophomore version of him; more so now that he knows his fondness of you was misinterpreted back then. So he’s adamant that there won’t be any more crude shows of affection—when he tells you he’s grown, he’s wants to be able to mean it.

So, instead of responding, Rafe flips Kelce off over his shoulder, grabbing his lathering gel and disappearing into the shower area.

“Oh shit,” Kelce wolf-whistles, more a jibe than a taunt. “You really are pussy whipped, huh?”

“Do me a favour, Smith.” Rafe sounds calmer than Kelce had expected him to, his rough voice scary steady. “And keep her name out of your mouth.”

—

You’re scrunching your nose when he nears, head lowered and notes in disarray.

It’s that stupid, heady cologne he wears—musk and patchouli something, you think—that you’re developing a knack for recognising almost anywhere. And chlorine, always chlorine and other pool chemicals, except for Fridays which are devoted to football practice petrichor.

“I would ask if you own a watch,” you say, refusing to look up, “but I know you do, because the Rolex logo blinds me every fucking time it’s in the sun.”

Rafe takes a seat beside you, snaking his arm around your backrest and swivelling it around to him in one swift motion.

You gasp in surprise, though it melts into a scoff as the indignation sets in. “Cameron,” you angle back, eyes widening slightly. “I was in the middle of something.”

“So here’s the thing,” he begins, ignoring you. His thighs are pressed into either side of his seat, the groove of his knees nudging your thighs ever so slightly. “I was… alright, a minute late, yeah? And I thought — well, she isn’t going to care if it’s a minute or ten, she’s going to murder no matter how late I am.”

You raise your eyebrows, crossing your arms over his chest. “True.”

“So,” he leans down, fishing a cylinder of Pringles and a packet of Skittles out of his bag, “I thought I’d take some time to pick out my ideal last meal.”

You glance down at the assortment dubiously, narrowing your eyes. “Vending machine crap?”

“Vending machine crap,” Rafe affirms, throwing them onto the table beside him. The plastic crinkles ominously.

“Bold of you to assume that I’d allow a last meal, Cameron,” you say then, faux-serious.

He leans forward in his seat, his blue eyes glinting with mirth. “Christ, Y/L/N, you’re going to deny me fundamental human rights now?”

“Wouldn’t you rather a quick, painless death than us delaying the inevitable with some food?” You respond, leaning forward in tandem.

“A quick, painless death, huh?” He asks, his voice lower now, roughened by the closeness. “How’re you going to do it then, head girl?”

The amusement on your features gives way to diffidence. It feels as though there’s a hidden meaning to the words he’s saying, something more crackling alive in the inch of space between your faces. “Poison,” you say, softer too.

A pause. Rafe’s gaze falls to your lips, and his chest stills, his broad shoulders tensing. “Don’t know if you’ll need it,” he murmurs, his Adam’s apple bobbing arduously. “Not right now.”

You furrow your brow, momentarily bemused. “Hm?”

Rafe Cameron thinks about kissing you often. He thinks about it in this absentminded, matter-of-fact way, like it’s meant to be on his mind all the time, like the pull in his chest is an inevitable part of being your almost friend—colleague.

He thinks about it extra hard now, slanted by your proximity and the soft, bergamot notes of your perfume.

Contrary to your vow, it’s eliciting a slow, painful death not to lean in and press his mouth against yours. He swallows again, his gaze lingering on your lips, and the tension in the room sears through you like a meteorite.

You pull back hastily, clearing your throat and turning back toward the table. “Anyway,” you cough, pulling your laptop forward and touching the mousepad. “We should really get going on this agenda.”

Rafe takes a little longer to regain his composure, his warm breath folding over your shoulder as he sighs. He turns too, leaning forward to look at the screen, and suddenly his proximity feels like too much to bare.

You move your chair to the side a little, the legs scraping over polished wood tauntingly. Rafe’s chest pulls in protest. “Right,” he says after a beat, trying not to frown. “Winter formal.”

The pair of you work in silence for a while. Time ticks by slowly, the maddening inches between you shrinking, and it’s only at the sight of a purple horizon that you acquiesce and stop working.

When you close your laptop and turn to address Rafe, you find that he’s already looking at you.

The revelation makes your pulse jolt. You break eye contact and clear your throat, busying yourself with your tote bag.

“Your focus is unparalleled by the way,” he says after a beat, his voice somewhere between amused and exasperated. “Remind me never to leave you alone when you’re studying.”

You try not to look too pleased by this revelation. “I always study alone, Cameron.”

“For your safety, Y/L/N,” he replies, faux-sombre, “I really think you shouldn’t.”

You look over at him, raising your eyebrows. “Is this your weird way of asking me on a study date?”

“Oh no,” he responds matter-of-factly, pushing back onto the hind legs of his chair. “One, I don’t study.” He leans forward then, ducks his head to eye-level, the blue of his irises bright and ever present. “Two, studying together is not a date.”

In your head, this translates to: you’re overestimating his interest. You say, suddenly chagrined, “I was kidding. Obviously.”

“So was I,” Rafe returns, cracking a roguish grin. “Obviously.”

You scoff, throwing your tote bag over your shoulder and standing up. “Nice try, Cameron.”

“It’s true, though,” he replies, oddly sincere as he straightens. “Any other girl and I’d never fucking dream of bringing them to a library to hang out.”

“Make out,” you correct with a cough, earning another grin.

“Exactly,” he nods, raising his eyebrows significantly. “I mean, shit, I’ve got a reputation to uphold Y/L/N.”

You breathe out an exasperated laugh, shaking your head. “What? As the Academy’s biggest fuckboy?”

“Fuckboy?” Rafe echoes, faux-affronted. “It’s not my fault I’m such a goddamn delight, now, is it?”

“Except,” you reply, trying not to smile, “that delight is probably the last word I’d use to describe you.”

Your shoulders knock together as you walk forward. It becomes harder not to smile, his closeness like warm syrup.

“And the first?” He asks.

“Well,” you splay your palm out and begin listing adjectives off, “cocky, arrogant, absolutely insufferable, sweet when you want to be which is actually rarely ever —”

“Sweet?” Rafe interrupts, something fond swelling in his chest. “I’ll take sweet.”

“You’re forgetting the rarely ever part,” you remind him, raising your eyebrows.

“Still,” he insists, grinning stubbornly, “ever.”

You shake your head exasperatedly, almost amused, and push through a set of double doors that take you to the foyer. The carpark isn’t far away, and the promise of a ride home—time and closeness like something rare—lingers in the air.

It’s as you’re grappling with its presence that you frown, suddenly aware of the silence. The pair of you have stopped walking and you aren’t certain why that is. “This conversation was going somewhere, wasn’t it?”

Rafe furrows his brow thoughtfully, though his features are quick to acquiesce. “Right. The fact that I don’t consider studying a date.”

You cringe again. “Oh.”

“But,” he continues, tapping the side of his nose conspiratorially. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

A tell-tale warmth spreads over your cheeks. “Nice try, Cameron,” you mutter, though your voice sounds weaker than you want it to.

“Don’t worry, Y/L/N,” he murmurs back, bowing his head to eye level. “When I’m asking you out for real, I’ll make sure that you know it.”

—

Lightning: his musk and patchouli scent—and chlorine today, no petrichor to fill the air.

Thunder: his voice. Deeper when he’s calling out for you than when you’re alone with him.

One always comes before the other, like this cyclical reminder of how much of him is now familiar.

“Y/L/N!” He calls out urgently, prompting you to halt.

“Cameron?” You turn to face him as he nears, evidently bewildered. “No meeting today, remember? Cromwell’s away.”

“No, I know,” he answers, a little breathless. “How’re you getting home?”

You furrow your brow bemusedly. “Walking?”

“I always drive you home after meetings,” he says then, quick to fall into your step. “Let me drive you home.”

“Did you hear anything I just said?” You ask, sounding a little exasperated. “We don’t have one of those today, genius.”

Rafe grins handsomely, knocking his shoulder against yours. “I’m a creature of habit, Y/L/N. Can’t you use your head girl goodwill and humour me just this once?”

You shake your head bemusedly, deciding to accede. “I don’t get why this is such a big deal for you.”

Rafe shrugs matter-of-factly, beads of water falling from his damp hair to his broad shoulders. It pulls your gaze from his muscles to the bare expanse of his forearms, his shirt sleeves rolled up so his Rolex glints in the yellow sun. “It’d be weird,” he says finally, “driving home in silence on a Wednesday instead of listening to your god-awful playlist.”

“Hey!” You chide, pushing him sideways playfully. “My playlist is fucking fire.”

Rafe makes a face. “Listening to that much Taylor Swift can’t be healthy.”

“Don’t do that,” you return, fixing him with a knowing look. “I hear you humming along to Delicate whenever it plays.”

“Good tune,” he defends, accurate lyrics, “that’s it.”

“Aw,” you tease, smiling this sweet, amused smile up at him—sunshine incarnate. “Don’t worry Mr Fuckboy, I won’t tell anyone that you’re actually a secret swiftie.”

Normally he’d return the jibe, but that fond look on your face is making it hard for him to breath. He wishes he had a camera, pathetic as that is. He wishes he had you, was afforded the luxury of endless time with your pretty face.

“Kildare Academy’s head girl everybody,” he says after a beat, unlocking his car with a tandem grin. “The paragon of confidentiality.”

Delicate plays once on the ride to your house. And when it does, his proclivity for the song now made public, Rafe Cameron isn’t afraid sing along loudly.

He’s proudly unabashed when the chorus blares through, singing, “Is it cool that I said all that?”

“Is it chill that that you’re in my head?” You join in between laughter, angling toward him to face him fully.

His long fingers drum against the steering wheel with the beat, making the muscles of his forearm pulse. He leans forward to turn the music up louder, and when he hand drops again, it falls onto the vibrating gear shift.

Dangerously close to your exposed thigh, a slate of sunlight painting it a warm shade of orange. “Cause I know that it’s delicate.” Rafe becomes acutely aware of the lyrics to this song, all of a sudden. “Isn’t it…”

“Isn’t it, isn’t it, isn’t it,” you continue to sing, that sweet, amused smile making a return on your face. Almost pleased. The awareness grows maddening.

You continue to hum along whilst Rafe tries to catch his breath. He’s almost grateful for the fact that he’s nearing your house until he realises that this means no more pretty girl in his pick-up truck.

“Think you can keep yourself from studying too hard this weekend?” Rafe asks, pulling into your driveway carefully.

You turn to face him, raising your eyebrows playfully. “Think you can force yourself to do a bit of study this weekend?”

Rafe throws his arm around your headrest and leans in a little, this fond, roguish grin on his face that makes your chest hurt. “Why? You asking me on a study date, Y/L/N?”

“No,” you answer, fixing him with a pointed look. “I just think your brain deserves a little bit of a workout.”

Rafe presses his tongue against his cheek, his gaze falling over your figure slow. “Trust me when I say,” he replies, his voice lower now, rougher. “That the real estate you occupy in there is a workout in itself.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, that pain in your chest dissolving into something softer. “All the nagging,” you deflect, “huh?”

Your front door opens, and Rafe catches the movement in his peripheral vision. His eyes linger on you anyway.

“Not quite,” he murmurs finally, just as you turn and unbuckle your seatbelt.

You look up at your porch and find your mother squinting down at you. She has a dish-towel clad hand pressed against her full hip, and her warm gaze scans over the pair of you knowingly.

When her expression changes, the delighted smile on her face creating crow’s feet, you recognise what’s coming before she’s even opened her mouth.

A few weeks ago, before his presence infused all this sweetness into your bones, you probably would’ve turned to him at this stage and pleaded he refuse.

Now, however…

“Rafe!” You mother calls out, gesturing for you to roll down the window. “Have you had dinner yet, sweetheart?”

“Not yet, Mrs. Y/L/N,” he answers, leaning forward to send her that handsome smile of his.

It’s a compromising position, his cheek close enough to press against yours, and you’re awash with the heat of his torso as it occupies the personal space in front of you. You swallow.

"Well then," she responds, "you'll have to stay and have it with us."

The arm he's wrapped around your headrest relaxes, his fingers brushing over your shoulder intermittently. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense,” your mother dismisses, waving the dish-towel around. “If you help me make the last few bits, you’ll be doing the opposite of imposing.”

Rafe hesitates momentarily, his eyes flicking to your face for approval. It’s only then that he’s able to recognise the closeness; his pupils flex a little, just enough to make you swallow once more.

You’re okay with this? He seems to ask.

You shrug. It appears all the confirmation he needs to shift the gear into park and release the ignition, his close proximity wavering.

And he walks the short walk to your porch behind you, his pleased expression hidden, unaware of the look of exasperation you’re sending to your mother.

She raises her eyebrows reproachfully. It’s only polite, they seem to say, as if we’re doing him a favour. As if Rafe Cameron doesn’t live in the most expensive house on the island, no doubt equipped with a private chef—a miscellany of fancy dinner items.

Maybe you’re embarrassed by the mediocrity of your own home, on the cusp of the Eight with enough roots to belong to the Cut. And you know it’s silly, thinking this way; terrifying too, because since when did you care what Rafe Cameron thought of you?

The fact that you’re grappling with these emotions must show on your face, because Rafe pulls close once the three of you are in the kitchen, ducking his head to your ear.

Goosebumps bloom where his warm breath fans over your skin. “Are you sure you’re good with this?”

You know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but you sort of hate that he knows this is affecting you at all. You breath out a scoff, breaking away from him deftly. “It’s not a big deal,” you lie, sending him a stern look. “Drop it, yeah?”

“Yes ma’am,” he replies, raising his arms in surrender. Then, he shifts his attention to your mother, who’s grabbing a bunch of fresh vegetables from the fridge.

“Think you can handle chopping duty, Rafe?” She asks, handing them over to him with a smile.

“Yes ma’am,” he repeats, and then he raises his eyebrows at you, his blue eyes filled with mirth. “So this is where you get it from, huh?”

“Ma’am,” you mother echoes, nodding approvingly. “I like it.”

After she’s enlisted your help in making the salad dressing, she can’t help but hover over the pair of you, throwing jibes as she pleases.

“So Rafe,” she says, ignoring your stern look, “Y/N tells me you’re captain of the football team, on top of being head boy. Your parents must be pretty proud of you, huh?”

Rafe’s features falter. There’s a split second where the hand that’s chopping away at the lettuce freezes in place; it’s a subtle pause, but you’re in tune enough to recognise it despite your mother’s ignorance.

“Maybe,” he answers finally, quick to plaster a smile back onto his face. “Though they do tend to have pretty high expectations.”

“And I’m sure you’re meeting all of them,” your mother dismissed airily, her bright eyes warm. “Do you know where you want to end up next year?”

“UNC,” he replies automatically. “Wanna stay reasonably close to my family, you know?”

You frown at this, sending him a questioning glance. From the little Rafe has disclosed about his father, it’s clear that he’s a bit of a tyrant—why would he wants to stick around here for him?

He turns his head in tandem, somehow reading your thoughts. “Wheezie,” he adds, looking back to your mother. “I know my dad’ll take care of Sarah just fine, but me and Wheez tend to get a little bit forgotten.”

“And Wheezie and Sarah are your younger sisters?” Your mother asks.

“Uh-huh,” he affirms, returning his gaze to the chopping board. “But anyway, I’ll probably apply to some of the other colleges on the East Coast, too, just in case I don’t manage to snag one of UNC’s football scholarships.”

“I’m sure your grades’ll get you through,” you say then, unable to help yourself. There’s a pause as two pairs of eyes descend on you, Rafe’s a little surprised, your mother’s on the smug side.

“Careful, Y/L/N,” Rafe teases, nudging your shoulder with his. “That was almost a compliment.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you reply, rolling your eyes playfully. “The dumb frat boy act may work your friends, but I know you pull more A-grades than all of them combined.”

Rafe raises his eyebrows, a jibe. “More keeping tabs, huh?”

You shrug, mock-nonchalant, tapping the side of your nose conspiratorially. It transforms Rafe’s expression into something roguish, full of mischief, and he ducks his head slightly, feigning a challenge. “You’re right though,” he says, lowering his voice. “I’m coming for your title, Miss Future Valedictorian.”

“So that’s why you didn’t want me studying this weekend!” You exclaim, faux-affronted.

“It’s also why we can’t go on study dates together,” he affirms, nodding soberly.

You furrow your brow. “You’ve lost me, Cameron.”

He raises his eyebrows significantly. “Too distracting, Y/L/N, keep up.”

It throws you, the ease with which he admits to this, your mother his witness. You try to dismiss it with a scoff, though the sound that comes out of your mouth is far weaker. “Anyway,” you glance down at the concoction in front of you, cheeks too-warm, “dressing’s ready.”

—

Rafe stays far longer than you expect him to.

He tackles your mother’s interrogatory remarks like a champion, deflecting as necessary. And he’s polite about it all, effortlessly charming, asking just the right number of personal questions—making your heart swell with his thoughtfulness.

And it’s terrifying, really, when dusk falls and he’s still here. Burnt ochre transforms into deep, purple hues, and it’s only then that your mother acquiesces and lets him go.

“Thank you again for dinner Mrs. Y/L/N,” he says, halted at your door with a handsome grin on his face.

“You’re welcome here anytime, Rafe!” She answers delightedly, sending him a playful wink. “Especially when you joke about the fact that I look thirty.”

“Sisters!” He insists, looking between the pair of you solemnly. “Seriously, Mrs. Y/L/N. Love your work.”

Her smile extends from her lips to the sides of her crinkly eyes, crow’s feet shining through. “Give your family my best.”

He nods kindly, and she turns, disappearing around the corner and leaving you to close the door.

Just you and him on your porch, now. The stygian sky descends on the scene like velvet, and the silence reclines, allowing your gaze to fall over him in paces.

His too, agonising over everything from the curl of your lashes to the osculate between your lips. The smooth column of your throat, illuminated by the dim glow of your porch lamp.

“Thank you,” he murmurs finally, breaking the silence. (He knows, if he hadn’t, the urge to kiss you would’ve grown unbearable.) “For tonight. I haven’t sat down for a meal like that in a while.”

You’re quietly surprised by the revelation, and in the beat that follows, his figure blurs around the edges. He’s proximal, though not proximal enough. And his once-damp hair is now fluffy with static, his taut muscles ever-present, his torso like a body heat furnace.

One step forward, and he’d be able to press you against your front door and kiss you. You swallow thickly.

“Don’t thank me,” you say quietly, willing yourself to look up at him. “It was fun.”

Another pause. He’s staring down at you with this intensity that makes your cheeks burn, and you find yourself grappling for purchase on something—anything, overwhelmed by his closeness.

“If only you were always like this,” you add, trying to tease though sounding a little weaker than you want to.

Rafe’s forearms are bare, rougher in the chill. He crosses them over his chest, leaning into the column of your porch, closer. “Like what?”

His warm breath unspools. He’s softer like this, at your doorway after dinner, his thick brows raised and skin awash in yellow light.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, looking away without meaning to. “Sweet.”

“Sweet?” He echoes, his voice lower, rougher. “I’m always sweet, Y/L/N.”

“That’s not true,” you whisper. You’re aware that he’s inched infinitesimally closer.

“To you,” he rasps, “I am.”

He pushes off the column of your porch then, ducking his head until it’s at eye-level with yours. When his rough palm finds the contour of your jaw, you let out a shaky breath, your heart a mess.

“Rafe,” you warn.

“Y/N…” he echoes, his finger sweeping over your warm cheek.

[gather-ye-fucking-rosebuds]

Dead Poets Society meetings were the place where Neil seemed most like himself. They scarcely had any during that winter since it was so cold, but patches of pine straw started poking through the snow melting in the woods, and it was the first day of spring, so the poets felt they should celebrate.

Todd arrived last, having had to make up a test he missed due to getting the flu and being in the infirmary for two days. When he walked into the cave, only Pittsie and Meeks said hi to him, but even they were preoccupied a little bit. After having made a radio for their room, they were working on making a more long distance radio to put in the cave (so far they were not successful). Toward the back, Knox sat with his arm wrapped around Chris’s shoulder and they stared into each other’s eyes while having a deep conversation. They were so invested that they didn’t even notice Charlie and Ginny giggling as they tried to throw almonds into Chris’s upside down hat. Neil and Cam leafed through Mr. Keating’s old poetry book, pointing out new poems to read during the session.

“Shall we get it started?” Todd asked enthusiastically, dropping the basket of assorted fruits he had pilfered from meals for this very occasion.

“Captain said he was gonna swing by today,” Neil said, grinning at Todd. “Let’s give him a few minutes.”

“I stopped by his office before I came and he said to start without him,” Todd explained, sitting down and wrapping his coat tighter around himself. “So let’s do this.”

And like clockwork, the poets recited the opening poem in unison, and Neil started the meeting by reading a short and sweet poem about the moon. Cam was in the middle of telling a story when Mr. Keating arrived.

“Captain!” he exclaimed, making everyone turn towards the entrance excitedly. “Here, sit down.”

“No, Mr. Cameron, I’m not staying long,” he said solemnly. The cave got quiet. Mr. Keating cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll, uh, start with the good news,” he said, smiling sadly. “My wife in London is going to come visit for a few months.”

The poets all gasped and tried talking over each other, asking many different questions, like where would she stay? Would they get to meet her? Has he told her about them?

But Todd hung onto the question that haunted the room. “What’s the bad news?” It was just a whisper, but it silenced the whole group.

Mr. Keating looked around at the poets. His students. Hell, he’d even consider them his sons. How did his life come to the point where seven extraordinary young boys looked up to him so much as to sneak out to a cave in the middle of the woods to read poetry of all things? He had to be the luckiest man alive.

“Boys, I-“ he started, his voice breaking. How could he get this across gently? “Remember the first lesson I taught you all?”

They all looked at each other. “Captain, what’s going on?” Charlie asked.

“And I had Pitts read To the Virgins To Make Much of Time?” Mr. Keating chuckled softly as Pitts still blushed, even today. “‘Gather ye rosebuds while ye may’ was the lesson I was trying to teach you all that day.”

“Captain,” Todd mumbled uncertainly, starting to understand what Mr. Keating was getting to.

“Well,” Mr. Keating continued, trying to smile through the tears forming in his eyes. “‘That same flower that smiles today tomorrow will be dying’ is…” His voice trailed away, unable to finish the sentence. He sniffled and wiped away a tear that rolled down his cheek.

“Boys,” he said, voice breaking. “I went to a doctor yesterday. He said I have leukemia. I only have a few months left to live.”

[strwbrryscent]

೯ ⁺ 𖥻 no more paradise on earth . ᰋ

Social media au / Some written parts !

summary: Reader was a Kook as a child, always hanging around Sarah and Rafe, becoming best friends with them really quickly, in part because her parents were the richest family on the island. Due the sudden death of her parents, the Camerons got custody of her. But while living with them she discovered things that maybe she wasn’t meant to know, especially the truth about her parents death and the disappearance of Big John Routledge.

pairing: Rafe Cameron x Ex Kook! Pogue!Reader

warnings: english is not my first language, so there may be some grammar errors, if you notice please let me know

NAVIGATION ! 05 ⌯ 06 ⌯ 07 masterlist. 𝜗𝜚

It was a habit that you two had, when someone was down or feeling sad he just went to sleep in the other’s room. It was something that you did since you were children.

You remember vividly the first time that it happened. It was winter and you were having a sleepover with Sarah, when your friend fell asleep you got scared because it was storming outside and you instinctively ran towards Rafe’s room, you didn’t know each other that well at the time but you were too embarrassed to wake up Sarah. When he saw you he was confused but he just made space for you in the bed, under the blankets, staying up all night just in case you would wake up and get scared again.

Since then when something bad happens to you and you don’t know what to do you just go inside his room and seek for comfort. You don’t necessarily talk, you just stay in his arms.

Today was no different, you couldn’t avoid the fact that you were feeling nauseous, especially because he knows you too much for you to deny it. So you just put on your pyjamas, took off your makeup and quietly left the room.

When you arrived the door was already cracked open, on the other side of it there was Rafe waiting for you. It didn’t took you much to get inside the room and closing the door behind you, after everything that happened to you in the last couple of days you felt like you deserved it.

“Hi” you said in a quiet tone, making your way towards his bed, “Hi” he replied, making you space next to him on the bed.

You just walked over, slipping under the blankets as your head found the comfort of his chest with him wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Are you gonna tell me what happened? You look upset since we came back from dad’s office” his fingers gently playing with strands of hair he found on your shoulder.

“It’s nothing, i just feel dizzy and” not even the time to finish your sentence that you were interrupted again by the boy, this Cameron behaviour of interrupting people needs to stop.

“Liar” he said before stopping for a second, trying to think about something else, “If you didn’t want to talk about it you could’ve just said that, when you lie you speak in a quieter tone of voice”

“You need to stop interrupting people when they talk” you replied, pinching his biceps causing him to scrunch his nose a little bit.

“I hate you” he said, “You don’t, let me sleep now”

And with that you turned on your side, closing your eyes as you felt Rafe’s arms wrap around your waist and his head on the crook of your neck.

Some people, Sarah included, called this behaviour that you two had weird, mainly because you weren’t in a relationship and you always stated that you didn’t like each other, but at the end you always ended up in his room, not for anything sexual of course.

But when you weren’t with Sarah you were with him, sometimes you even crashed his days with Topper and Kelce watching them play golf, which they didn’t mind but they always thought that it was weird how Rafe acted around you, especially because he always jumped to one girl to another, like all the time.

But you didn’t care, it was none of your business and you had your own problems to think about, especially now.

You got new notifications, unlock your phone and tap to view !

a/n: i like wrote this part five times because i didn’t like it, and kinda still don’t.. anyways i’m alive, i’ll try to post more after this week but school is killing me

🏷️ : @lilahrosee / @raeven-marie43 / @cyberkitty1 / @theultimatejoe / @starkeysfile / @marleymarleymarleymarley / @rafecameronswifeyy / @hello-therree

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

The Rolling Stones • Nausicaä (Love Will Be Revealed) • Love Takes Miles • Drinking Age • Cancer of the Skull • Try as I May • We're Thinking the Same Thing • Nina + Field of Cops • $0 • Can't Keep Anything

Submitter's note: Cameron Winter is the frontman for the band Geese, and this is his first solo album.

Spotify ♪ Bandcamp ♪ YouTube

[g-girlshavingfun]

December Prompts

25) Bodyguards - Abby & Macey

Set during DJGC but before the adults learn that Cammie is the target of The Circle, Abby keeps Macey from leaving the Academy one October morning. (3,700)

———————————————————————

It was uncharacteristically warm for an October weekend morning when Abby slid a chair in between Joe and her sister at breakfast, a cup of coffee and a heavily loaded omelette in tow.

“Why do I have to guard the only teenage girl in existence who wakes up early on a Saturday to go for a run of all things?”

Technically she wasn’t supposed to sit at the teacher’s table. There was a separate area for non-teaching staff to eat without risk of having to deal with any of the students, but on the long list of things her big sister had to lecture her about, her choice of chair at breakfast was pretty low down. As it was, she had slid a chair into the suspiciously slim gap between the two of them, both her shoulders pressed lightly against one of theirs. When she sat down, interrupting the pair’s whispered conversation and prolonged eye contact and soft smiles, Abby had noted to herself how Rachel’s entire body lurched back as if trying to exaggerate the space previously existing between herself and Joe. How Joe’s upper body had tensed, gaze returning to his plate, breath held tightly in his lungs until she broke the silence with her complaints.

Interesting.

“Don’t tell me Miss McHenry managed to outrun you?”

“Oh please.” She shovelled some eggs into her mouth, attentive to the smirk dancing across Joe’s mouth and the way Rachel turned away from them both to focus on her own food. “I need my energy and sleep if I’m gonna keep dealing with this many kids every day as well as the Senator and his wife, Winters’ campaign team, and the morons from Secret Service. Teenage girls are a nightmare, I don’t know how you two do it.”

At that, she could feel her sister’s gaze cut towards her in a teasing glare, coffee cup in hand and tone wry. “I had plenty of practice.”

“Really? Who with?” Joe’s sarcasm made Abby’s eyes roll, ingesting more of her breakfast as her friend finally looked up from his plate to make eye contact with Rachel over her head. She could feel the amused smile the two shared the same way she could feel when a gaggle of girls approached the grand hall from outside its closed doors, the same way she could feel when Macey shifted an inch closer to the window in the corner of the room. Secret service may not have been her day-to-day job, but it was a cover she had taken up a few times before, and the instincts of knowing everyone and everything around her had been as easy to slip back into as her own clothes.

Of course, Joe and Rachel made it easy by being so obvious.

“Oh haha. Is this how it’s going to be from now on, you two ganging up on me all the time?”

“Hasn’t it always been?” He winced as soon as he said it, Rachel and Abby flinching away from him in unison because no, it hadn’t been.

There used to be four of them.

Anytime Joe and Rachel decided to gang up on her, she would have Matt in her corner backing her up. If her and her sister got in a fight then the boys would take one Cameron sister each and force them away from each other, or if they teamed up to make fun of Matt then Joe would leap to his rescue and vice versa. When the happy couple would get lost in one another, in the good, the normal, and the perfect that they shared, she and Joe would still have each other. Each a little bit wrong, a little bit damaged.

Three just didn’t work the same.

As the chatter and the giggles and the squeals of the operatives in training sounded around them, each one of them still hopeful and naive about what their futures would look like, the three of them each looked away from the others, lost in their own thoughts. The pained silence that hung over them was oppressive, and Joe and Abby probably would’ve drowned in it if it weren’t for Rachel. As usual, her sister saved the day, clearing her throat and breathing life back into them both with her words.

“Your charge is on the move.”

Abby muttered under her breath as Joe’s laughter echoed in her ear beside her. “For fucks sake.”

Rachel’s gesturing nod brought their attention to the corner of the room where Macey, Cammie, and what seemed like half of their class began to get up from their seats, already done with their breakfasts. Abby gulped back the rest of her coffee and filled her mouth with what was left of her omelette, part of her beginning to regret caving to her sister’s request and taking this job. Wishing the chuckling pair goodbye, only just resisting the urge to flip Joe the finger as he wished her a sarcastic good luck, she followed the growing group of girls out of the hall from a distance.

For once in her life, Abby had planned to stay silent, sticking to the shadows with her head down in order to avoid the starstruck faces and prying questions of the Gallagher Academy student body. Most of the time, she thrived on the attention, loving the way their faces lit up at her stories and preened under her attention. Today though, the combination of a late night call with the international operatives involved in uncovering what interest Catherine Goode had in Macey McHenry, and then said girl deciding to start her morning with a run around the grounds before the sunrise, had left Abby tired and crabby. Not particularly an inspiring mood for the students to see her in. However, as the Junior class started making their way towards the main entrance, she knew she was going to have to make her presence known.

“So where are we going?” The entire group seemed to jump as one, like a collection of jack-in-the-boxes all timed to go off at once, and swivelled round to face her. Hand on her cocked out hip, she raised an eyebrow in challenge to her protectee. “Or more specifically, where are you going?”

Macey just crossed her arms in defiance, glaring at her in challenge. “In to town.”

“No.”

“It’s the weekend. We don’t have any classes, my parents have no use for me today, and I’ve been trapped in this school for weeks.”

“All true. You’re still not going in to town.”

“Why not!” Jaw clenched and eye’s on fire, she looked like she was a moment away from stomping her foot on the floor like a child throwing a tantrum. Lips and nose and eyes trembling in frustration, the voice that came out of her mouth was half snap, half whine, and all anger.

Abby responded in kind, mimicking the girl’s accent in a move that was admittedly a bit childish, even for her. “Because I say so!” Seeing her face contort again, clearly gearing up for another petulant protest, Abby interjected again before their spat could escalate any further. “Because you need more than one agent accompanying you if you want to step outside these walls, especially on a weekend when they’ll be crowds everywhere you go.”

“Everyone else is going.”

“Everyone else isn’t my concern. No offence Squirt.” She shot her niece an apologetic shrug and a smile as she lied through her teeth, Cammie just wincing through her own smile in return, eyes flickering between the arguing pair. Trying to be more sympathetic, Abby softened her tone, “There will be other trips to town Macey. Sorry, but today you’re staying inside the grounds.”

“Make me.”

Slightly stunned at the girl’s boldness, Abby started at her, at the way she tilted her head and rose her eyebrows, popped her hands on her hips and turned her nose up in a mirror of Abby’s own posture.

She sighed. Maybe she owed Rachel and Professor Buckingham and her mother an apology for her teenage years. If Macey was this difficult to deal with, Abby must’ve been a nightmare.

“Try and take one more step towards that door Macey and I promise you I will.”

“What makes you so confident you can stop me?”

It was all she could do not to laugh in the kid’s face. “I was a student here for 6 years and you’ve been here for 1? I’ve been an active field operative for 14 years and you haven’t even had a Cove-Ops lesson yet?”

Macey just scoffed at her, swinging her arms out to gesture at the huddle of girls around her. “Yeah well there’s only one of you, good luck trying to get to me with all of these guys in the way.”

Some of the girls, Abe Baxter’s included, grinned a little, obviously ecstatic at the idea of getting to challenge a real life operative. Others looked less excited but still just as determined, squaring their shoulders and jutting their chins out at her in misguided support of their friend. Only a couple, the smaller girls and those in the research and development pathway, looked hesitant.

Abby cast her eyes back to her niece, the only one of the girls to wince and step away from the group. She wasn’t sure whether Cammie, being the only one to see first hand the danger that they were in in Boston, was the only one who understood the gravity of the situation, or if she was remembering her aunt showing her how to incapacitate an attacker with a skipping rope and was wisely choosing to remove herself from the potential fight.

Either way, Abby softened her tone again, laid a hand on the stubborn girl’s shoulder, tried to diffuse the situation without violence. She wasn’t about to spar with a group of teenagers in the middle of the school.

Rachel would kill her.

“I’m not trying to get to you, Macey, I’m trying to protect you.” The girl scoffed, rolling her eyes. “If these girls are really your friends, they’ll be on my side when they hear that two unidentified choppers were noted flying west over the river this morning. That these past few days there’s been a significant increase in searches for both Roseville and McHenry on the internet. That four new residents have moved here or into surrounding towns in the past week who haven’t yet been vetted by the Secret Service.” She watched as the fight and the support from the rest of the girls drained out of them, realisation shining in their eyes that she was being serious. “You’re not going out today Macey, end of story.”

“We can stay in with you? We’ll go to the cinema another time. Oh! We can watch Clueless in the common room instead.”

Her niece was the sweetest kid.

But Macey just shook her head and sent the girls on their way, sending Abby the stink eye as she barged past her and back into the mansion.

“Well, have fun girls. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Shooting the rest of the girls a grin and a wink, she span on her heel and trailed after her protectee, sure that the girl’s anger wasn’t yet burned out.

She kept a safe distance as she followed Macey through the mansion, nodding in greeting to Harvey as he stumbled past them through the foyer and smiling politely at Madame Dabney as they passed her on her way down the stairs. As she walked, she shot Joe a quick message asking him to head into town and keep an eye on Cam, that she’s heading to the cinema with her friends, that Abby will remove his eyes from their sockets if she doesn't return unharmed.

He sent her a smiley face in return.

They had reached the second floor when instead of continuing up the steps, or turning towards the student lounge, or even heading into the library, Macey turned into the deserted Hall of History and spun to face her with a scowl on her face.

“I believe the headmistress is out at the moment.”

“I don’t need Mrs Morgan, I just wanted a quiet place to talk to you.”

“By all means, talk away.”

Macey's eyes were piercing. A brighter blue than even Cammie and Matt’s, they gleamed as she glared at her, catching in the light and burning with rage. She swallowed, shuffled her feet, teeth grinding together as she tried to find whatever words she was looking for.

“Stop.” Abby quirked her eyebrow at her. She was very good at what she did, but she wasn’t a mind reader. “Stop following me around, and dictating where I go, and bossing me about all the time.”

“Quite literally my job Macey.”

“No. Your job is to make sure I turn up to my father’s campaign in one piece, that I get from A to B without another broken bone, that I live to see Samual Winters’ victory or concession speech.”

“Right, well unfortunately for you the keeping you alive thing also requires the monitoring your every movement thing.”

“Then let me do what I want and just keep me safe while I’m doing it!”

“You’re supposed to be a smart girl Macey, why can’t you understand that it’s not as simple as that?”

“Because you’re ruining my life!” Her scream echoed through the hallway, bouncing off the walls and slamming hard into Abby, nearly bowling her over with the force of it. “You. And my parents. And this campaign. And..and that woman on the roof! This was supposed to be a good year. I’m finally at a school I like, with people that I love, and I was going to catch up to them this year. I had a plan! But now everywhere I go the girls stare, and they whisper, and they worry. And I have to spend my evenings and my weekends trailing after The Senator instead of catching up on my course load. And now you tell me I can’t even join my friends when they spend a day in town. Everywhere I go, you’re there lecturing me about how I need to do what you say, that you need to keep me safe, but you wont even tell me why! Nobody will tell me who these people are or what they want with me or how you’re going to stop them!”

Well now she felt bad.

Briefly horrified, she spotted small hot tears building in the girl’s eyes. She was always good at making Cam laugh, but her niece was generally a happy kid. Or at least she had been. Abby didn’t have much experience in cheering up angry, scared, hormonal teenage girls, despite being one herself something like a lifetime ago, and she didn’t really know where to start.

She supposed she better start with the truth.

“We don’t know what they might want with you Macey, honestly we don’t. Probably just a ransom, or to manipulate your father.”

Or at least part of the truth.

Since the moment global intelligence agencies saw the footage from the roof, Catherine Goode and The Circle had been identified as the operatives targeting the group of teenagers, but it would do no good to tell Macey that. Truthfully, if there was any reason that particular group of people wanted her it may have more to do with her heritage, but Rachel had given her strict instruction not to tell the girl that either.

“And we’re going to stop them by letting the CIA do their job and track them down. By letting the Secret Service do their jobs by keeping you well protected wherever you go. By letting Mrs Morgan, and Mr Solomon, and me do our jobs. That’s all there is to it okay?”

It would also do no good to tell her that she might not be the target. That there was a small handful of operatives who knew that Matthew Morgan’s disappearance has been heavily linked to that woman and the rest of The Circle. That the operatives in the know suspected that another girl on the roof that day may be equally as likely to have been the person they were looking for.

The Baxters both thought it unlikely, thought that if they had any reason to go after Cam they would’ve done it much sooner after Matt went missing.

Rachel refused to discuss it with her, turning slightly pale and slightly shaky and slightly angry the one time Abby asked her sister how worried she thought they should be.

Joe was concerned. He didn’t give a reason why, just pulled Abby aside when she first arrived and told her to try keep an equally sharp eye on Cammie for now, that he would keep his ear to the ground and try find out more.

She hadn’t dared asked Townsend’s opinion. He would tell her the truth, no matter how painful, he always did. She just wasn’t ready to hear it yet.

“I hate it. I don’t want to take my bodyguards with me everywhere I go. It just makes me feel more in danger, like that woman is waiting around every corner to snatch me again.”

Macey was shaking where she stood, the tears building in her eyes breaking free from their restraints and streaking down her face as she shivered. Abby was struck suddenly, by how small this girl was. How young. How more than anything, she was just a kid scared of getting hurt again. At 16, her biggest worry should be catching up in the school work she was two years behind in, should be her admittedly poor relationship with her parents, should be dealing with Preston Winters and the blatantly obvious thing they had for each other. Not Secret Service agents crashing into her life and trying to take it over.

Unfortunately, no matter how much she agreed that it was unfair, she couldn’t change the girl’s current situation, could only offer reassurance as best she could.

Abby sighed. She was never very good at comforting people, but this was a kid who didn’t have anyone else. She was going to have to do.

“You don’t have bodyguards, you have me. And besides, I’m not your bodyguard Macey, I’m your sister.” Setting both her hand’s on the trembling girl’s shoulders, she shot her as comforting a smile as she could muster. Macey stared at her wide eyed, blinking owlishly at her from beneath damp eyelashes. “I know you’re pretty new to this whole sisterhood thing, but I’ve been a sister my entire life so let me explain how it works.” She squeezed the girls shoulders and wiped a stray tear of her face, tried to put all the intensity and honesty and care she could into her words. “We stick together yeah? You and me. And I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, not if I can help it. I’d take a bullet for you before I let them hurt you again and then I’d take another for good measure. That’s what sisters do, that’s what I’m here for.”

Thinking of her older sister, of how Abby used to trail after her as a kid, going to her for help anytime she had a fight with their mother, or with her friends, or with a boy, she faltered. Rachel had held her on her hip at their father’s funeral, had soothed her broken heart all night after her first breakup, had nursed her back to health after plenty of operations gone wrong. Then four years ago Rachel’s husband had disappeared and it was Abby’s turn to be the solid, dependable one. To comfort her sister and her niece and hold them steady when they fell apart.

But she failed. She just wasn’t built like that.

Macey was still shaking slightly beneath her hands, but her tears had stopped and her breaths had steadied. Bright eyes watched Abby attentively, studying her close. She recognised the look. The girl didn’t trust her, didn’t trust many adults Abby reckoned, so she was looking for any sign of disingenuity, of deceit.

No matter how hard she looked, she wouldn’t find any.

Macey nodded slowly, something like relief glazing over her features. All the fight seemed to drain out of her, muscles sagging under the hands holding her tight and eyelids drooping under the weight of her defeat. She tipped forward ever so slightly, forehead coming to rest on Abby’s shoulder as she took a deep breath. Slowly, Abby reached around her back and wrapped her arms lightly around the girl, giving her a quick pat as she felt Macey’s own arms encircle her waist.

The hug was brief, and hardly comfortable for either of them, but Macey looked a lot calmer when she pulled away, eyes steeled and a soft thank you on her lips.

Abby gave a single nod of acknowledgment and clapped her hands together, quickly searching for a route out of the emotional ditch they had found themselves in. “Now. You said something about wanting to catch up with the rest of your grade? Lucky for you, you have at your disposal a top quality Gallagher Academy graduate who is quite literally not allowed to leave your side.” She wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulders and started steering them towards the library, shooting her a cocky wink as they went. “So, do you wanna start with COW, a bit of computing, any languages? I’m willing to give you a few Cove-Ops pointers if you want, you’ll be better than Cam and the girls in no time. No way is Joe Solomon a better teacher than me.”

“Actually, could we work on Protection & Enforcement? I know I’m technically injured but…” Macey’s unsaid words were loud in Abby’s ears. I want to be able to protect myself. Nonchalantly shrugging, she redirected them towards the stairs, already planning out a routine and some moves to go through that wouldn’t put additional strain on Macey’s broken arm.

“Sure kid, as long as you promise not to rat me out to your Headmistress. I hear she’s scary.”

———————————————————————

Authors note:

Zach: Has a snarky attitude and a bad relationship with his parent

Joe: Well shit now I have to look after you

Macey: Has a snarky attitude and a bad relationship with her parents

Abby: Well shit now I have to look after you

Happy new year everyone! Officially no longer posting these December prompts in December but oh well. The final 6 updates will probably be posted every few days this month, as I’m back at uni imminently and will go back to being pretty busy.

[thepentangle]

[sorrowon]

SORROW FOUND ME. independent and private multi muse with extremely low activity and way too many muses loved and sometimes ignored by lacy.

❝ sorrow found me when i was young. sorrow waited. SORROW WON. ❞

rules and muses found under the cut

01. my name is lacy and i’m 25+ years old. i’m an aries with my moon in sagittarius, cancer ascendant and i have no idea what any of this means. i'm not affiliated with anything.

02. the psd i’m currently using was made by pinkinnards and icon border was made by me, but i’ll also use various psds from various creators. all credit really goes to them and none to me. i’ll probably use psd’s by venuscommissions, plutocommissions, calisources and more. if you ever have any questions, please feel free to shoot me a message. i promise, i don’t bite.

03. i will probably practice exclusivity and mains and affiliates, but at the moment i don't have any.

04. i ask that you please not follow me and then unfollow me to follow me again and try to get me to follow you. that will not make me follow you, it’ll just make me softblock you and then hardblock if it continues. also, please don’t like my starter calls or send me meme’s if we’re not mutuals. i am mutuals only.

05. i don’t usually write smut, but if i'm really comfortable with another person then i don't mind giving it a try. i do ask that you please tag your smut though and don't try to force me to write it.

06. i will not follow people that use certain faceclaim’s. gal gadot, chris pratt, ezra miller, scarlett johansson and more probably. if you have questions about why then just send me an ask and i’ll let you know. i’m uncomfortable with them and i just want to be comfortable on my blog.

07. i am extremely slow and i honestly can't help that. i have a full time job and at the moment am only getting one day off a week. it's exhausting, but i'm doing my best.

KDRAMAS: naksu/cho-yeong - alchemy of souls - go yoonjung ahn min-hyuck - strong woman do bong-soon - park hyungsik kim shin - goblin - gong yoo cha sunghoon - business proposal - kim minkyu shin hari - business proposal - kim sejeong ryu sunjae - the lovely runner - byeon wooseok bae rona - penthouse: war in life - kim hyunsoo oh injoo - little women - kim goeun na wondeuk/lee yul - 100 days my prince - do kyungsoo lim jugyeong - true beauty - moon gayoung lee suho - true beauty - cha eunwoo han seojun - true beauty - hwang inyeop

TELEVISION: nancy wheeler - stranger things - natalia dyer sarah cameron - outer banks - madelyn cline nancy drew - nancy drew - kennedy mcmann clarke griffin - the 100 - madelyn cline elena gilbert - the vampire diaries - nina dobrev josette 'josie' saltzman - the legacies - kaylee kaneshiro willow rosenberg - buffy the vampire slayer - alyson hannigan kara danvers/zor-el - supergirl - melissa benoist mia smoak-queen - arrow - brec bassinger louis de pointe du lac - interview with a vampire - jacob anderson lesta de lioncourt - interview with a vampire - sam reid daisy jones - daisy jones & the six - riley keough elsa dutton - yellowstone: 1883 - isabel may

ANIMATED: vi - arcane jinx - arcane mel - arcane vex'ahlia vessar - lovm/critical role keyleth - lovm/critical role

VIDEO GAMES: jessica riley - until dawn - tbd mia winters - resident evil rosemary winters - resident evil daniela dimitrescu - resident evil

LITERATURE: nesta archeron - acotar - tbd elide lochan - throne of glass - emily bader manon blackbeak - throne of glass - tbd ariadne - crescent city - tbd sathia flynn - crescent city - tbd danika fendyr - crescent city - tbd isabel 'belly' conklin - the summer i turned pretty - jung chaeyeon elizabeth bennet - pride and prejudice - keira knightley sophie baek - bridgerton - tbd hyacinth bridgerton - bridgerton - tbd

[timehascomeagain]

I feel so far away from everyone & like everything I do I do wrong. But I've just had a busy week and it'll pass and I will feel okay again soon. But it comes in waves that do not abate!!! I just need a big cry but I never cry over anything or for anything so I will suffer. 4ever

[favsdti]

- Its a femininomenom .ᐟ -

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ Emily. 19. she/her. uni student. madison beer's #1 fan. Sturniolo obsessed. delusional. music. eyeliner. tate mcrae. charlotte tilbury. ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

NAVIGATION .ᐟ

tag system. ⟢ chat. ⟢ feedback. ⟢ credits.

MASTERLIST .ᐟ

۫ ꣑ৎ MATT STURNIOLO

-- ⋆⁺₊❅. 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑫𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑴𝑺 ⋆⁺₊❅.

࣪𖤐.ᐟ CHRIS STURNIOLO

-- . ݁₊ ⊹ ˖ 𝑱𝑼𝑺𝑻 𝑼𝑺 . ݁₊ ⊹ ˖

˖𓍢𓇼 RAFE CAMERON

-- *.. in progress ..*

IMPORTANT WORDS .ᐟ

⚘( ၴႅၴ𝙀𝙢 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨｡｡* -- Please keep in mind; I've been on tumblr for quite some time now, but have never had an actual account before, so I'm still new and I really don't know what I'm doing (...˙◠˙). If you notice anything I could improve upon or have any advice at all, please please please tell me!!

⚘( ၴႅၴ𝙀𝙢 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨｡｡* -- With that being said, I obviously don't have any fics written and I'm still setting up my whole inbox, and trying to organize my tag system...it's a lot. But yes, please bare with me because it will definitely take me some time (hopefully not as much because I'm on winter break right now)

⚘( ၴႅၴ𝙀𝙢 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨｡｡* -- Requests are open, but due to my obvious busyness getting everything set up, I may not get to them for a while!

⚘( ၴႅၴ𝙀𝙢 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨｡｡* -- Sorry, one last thing; since I will be taking requests and also my inbox thingy will be open just in general (to just chat it up and gossip, duh) and I would love to have emoji anons...possibly? So maybe if you want too, you can send in an anon you would like to have. Just a thought!

(๑•ᴗ•๑)

--xoxo, emily

[thesummerstorms]

so as I try to make a "world state" if you will for my PJO stuff, more and more characters keep appearing. (98% of them are solidly in NPC/Crowd Scene/Lore Entry status, but still.)

So far there's:

Living:

Della Bowers- Daughter of Apollo. Stereotypically, she's an archer and a musician. She's very angry. Her entire existence was inspired by the tone of Scylla's voice at the end of "Scyllla" from Epic the musical. Oldest surviving child of Apollo from either Camp, but was "graduated" (aged out/forced out) shortly after TLO and therefore wasn't around to help her siblings for Gaea. No healing ability whatsoever, but she accidentally curses someone with plagues when she gets angry and sings hymns to her father at some point. In Annabeth Wayne verses, she may or may not be opening for Black Canary.

Cameron "Cam" Wells- Daughter of Athena. Oldest surviving child of Athena still at Camp, but she regularly pretends to be Annabeth and Malcolm's "younger" sibling. Daughter of a medical researcher who used her father's old textbooks to teach herself how to help with basic first aid in the infirmary. She doesn't actually want to pursue medicine though; that's a necessity not a choice. She's Athena cabin's unofficial reference librarian, and forms something of a trio with Annabeth and Malcolm. Currently enrolled part time in community college to prolong her ability to stay at Camp.

Gianna Benenati- Daughter of Athena. 14. Youngest Athena kid to survive Gaea and Kronos. Wants to be a textile engineer. Used to be best friends with her similarly aged sister Isra, who was killed in battle.

Hector Mendoza Parra- Son of Athena. Newest and youngest member of Cabin 6. Arrived after Gaea. Very skeptical of the whole thing. The Campers low key think his name is bad luck because Hektor was a Trojan and also look at what Achilles did to him.

Reed- Most NPC of NPCs. Son of Demeter from somewhere in the Southern USA who is good at herbal remedies and will help the Apollo kids out with handling minor illnesses and pains in exchange for them putting out a little bit of sunshine for his herb garden in the winter. Dresses in camo a lot.

Louisa Cordero & Erik Patel- Former Athena Head Counselor and her second from when Annabeth was a small child. Graduated together when Annabeth was nine or ten, but as far as she knows they're probably still both alive. (If they aren't, she'd rather live in ignorance.)

Dead:

Agatha Nguyen- Daughter of Athena. Former Head Counselor before Annabeth. Used to fight with Luke, so she and Annabeth weren't as close as they could be, but she did train Annabeth's knife skills. "Graduated" at the end of The Lightning Thief, but was killed off-screen by monsters at least by The Titan's Curse while protecting a Satyr on a mission to find a new demigod.

Ianthe & Galen Hargrove- Twin children of Athena. Around Annabeth's age. Their first summer was during Sea of Monsters, and Tantalus's presence drove them to defect with an older daughter of Morpheus to the Titan Army. Annabeth barely knew either of them. Ianthe was killed in the Battle of Manhattan. Galen is probably dead, but no one's sure.

Emmanuel Belanger- Son of Athena who left Camp and refused to fight for either side during the Titan war. Tried to hide in the mortal world, but was killed by monsters when Gaea began to rise. Thought Annabeth was Luke's spy and never learned otherwise.

Isra El-Amin- Daughter of Athena. Was the same age as Gianna. Was the cabin "Weapon specialist". Haven't decided which battle she died in. I do flip flop back and forth between her and Gianna as to who survives/dies; right now Gianna is surviving only so she and Chiara can embarrass Nico with their modern Italian slang that no one else understands.

Emily (surname?)- Daughter of Athena. Was technically "co-counselor" with Annabeth during SOM due to Annabeth's age, but was too depressed to care or intervene at that point. Died off screen between SOM and TTC.

Jessie Holt- Unclaimed. Annabeth used to wonder if Jessie was an Athena kid, and Jessie helped weave burial shrouds after the Battle of the Labyrinth. However, they weren't close. Killed in the Battle of Manhattan.

Lydia- Daughter of Apollo. Had only minor healing abilities, but was targeted and ambushed by TA demigods due to being a medic during the Battle of Manhattan. Her real love was poetry, and Cam, her best friend, is working on compiling her poems into a manuscript for the camp library.

??? Name Undecided- Son of Aphrodite. Lydia's friend and Cam's frenemy, and as a result was sometimes voluntold into using his emotion-sensing abilities to help deal with distressed patients or their more distressed siblings/friends. Also wrote poetry, but Cam thought it was pretentious and now doesn't have the drafts to preserve. Mother writes semi-famous love poems. Killed in the Battle of Manhattan.

[avoutput]

Something Borrowed || Alien: Romulus

My lord is it hot in Texas. I think its quaint that people used to live in this state without a hint of air conditioning, in full jeans, boots, shirts, frocks, bonnets, hats, and anything else you think they might wear on the range. And then some time passed, people were tired of boiling, and the modern movie theater offered a respite from the terrible burden of the hot August sun. You can sit down and blast off to colder climates, like the north pole, the moon, or the dark reaches of space. You may not know this but many of the Christmas or winter classics we adore today came out in the summer. But today, we are in the cold reaches of space in the grip of an all too familiar monster. I went to today's showing of Alien: Romulus with almost no excitement. Almost. This franchise has burned us all too many times ever since James Cameron put down the camera at the end of the unnecessary and beloved sequel to what could be one of the best films of the 20th century. Alien and Aliens have an undeniable gravity and we are stuck in their orbit. Like the fictional Weyland-Yutani corporation, studios greenlight return trips to these worlds. They know we still can’t turn down the journey, and they can’t leave the chance to profit off visiting these creatures over and over again. But a body with gravity is hard to fell and no film in the franchise has been able to truly kill the beast. Alien: Romulus instead chooses to worship at the feet of the masters in hopes of gaining ground, despite the treacherous nature of standing upon giants. 

There are no spoilers in space. You will see them coming like the story of Star Wars, marked as it flies through space. A quick synopsis: Romulus takes place 20 years after Ripley defeats the original terror in Alien. Miners working for the Weyland-Yutani corporation toil in a mine on the far side of a planet that never sees the sun. Rain (Caliee Spaeny) and Andy (David Jonsson) are two orphans whose parents died of cancer breathing in the fumes in the mine. After finishing her required hours of her contract on the planet, she decides to put in for a transfer to a planet with a sunrise. The corporation decides to double all miners required contract time due to the continued loss of people due to cancer. With nothing left to lose and goaded by other orphaned children, they choose to try and rob an unmanned spaceship that happened to drift into the mine planet's orbit before anyone at the company realizes. The prize? A series of cryopods needed for the 9 year flight to the closest planet outside of the corporation's grasp. But will the cost be worth the price?

In a series that spans hundreds of years, it was quite the surprise that we would land within 20 years of the origin of the franchise. Certainly a bold choice. At this point, it's probably in your best interest to know the timeline. From the earliest in the series timeline to the latest (series year /release year / director): 

Prometheus (2093 / 2012 / Ridley Scott)

Alien Covenant (2104 / 2017 / Ridley Scott)

Alien (2122 / 1979 / Ridley Scott)

Alien Romulus (2142 / 2024 / Fede Alvarez)

Aliens (2179 / 1986 / James Cameron)

Alien 3 (2179 / 1992 / David Fincher)

Alien Resurrection (2381 / 1997 / Jean-Paul Jeunet)

Bold choices, bold rewards. The greatest thing about Alvarez’ turn at the helm is that before anything happens, before the title card runs, we see the wreckage of the Nostromo, as if it were a promise of things to come. Just a day before seeing this film, I asked why the newer films, Prometheus and Covenant, abandoned the now low-tech futurism of the original film? The small tube screens, grainy communications, big mechanical keyboards, switchboards, heavy levers, and basically anything the early 80’s would have used to communicate science fiction future. Ridley Scott himself already perfected the tactile feel of working in space with his origin story, Alien. More than likely, it was simply a stylistic choice of the time. The human future looks different now. Our corridors are stark white, our screens flat, our interfaces button-free. But so much of the grit left the screen when our spacefarers traded buttons that click with finger swipes and hand motions. Romulus returns to form and brings that tactile nature back to the screen, and with it, a real sense that people live and work there. The world is lived in, not designed.

Our characters and their story leave little for our actors to chew on with one standout in David Johnson as Andy. What starts as a one note character doesn’t really grow per say, but like the xenomorph, he grows in you. Out of everyone, he is the one I want to see more work from. Sometimes its not the song, but the pitch perfect note that you remember. As for the film's story, without giving anything away, the forward momentum of the film builds in such a way that the rest of the actors never really get to shine the way the actors did in Alien and Aliens. Sigorney Weaver battles with a lack of control and only succeeds when she takes it. And we get to see her realize this as the people in power fall away. In Romulus, we have a different set of circumstances that you could imagine excuses this absence of growth. With an average age that feels far below any of the other films, Romulus creates an atmosphere of inexperience across the characters, which would be fine, but it doesn’t appear to be of any consequence to the story being told in the film. For instance, there is no other thematic purpose to the characters being orphans other than to chide the churn of human labor in capitalistic imperial enterprises like Weyland-Yutani. As far as I can tell, almost any thematic or metaphorical point born of Romulus is shallow. Worse than that, this single layer is reminiscent of another space franchise and certainly a cause for pause. I couldn’t help but feel a disturbance in the fabric of cinema, a feeling I have not felt since the release of Star Wars: The Force Awakens. But hold your groan folks, unlike the The Force Awakens, Romulus conceals itself better than most. Almost as if it was the Dark Side of The Force.

Under its dark shroud is an entertaining rebuild of both Alien and Aliens. The first half of the film is a homage to Ridley Scott, the back half to James Cameron. Alvarez uses his runtime to create something more unique than anything thought of in J.J. Abrhams turn with Star Wars. But like Abrhams turn, it’s a reconfiguration of the base model. It takes what we already are familiar with and constructs a version with a modern twist. Like the VW Bug of the 60’s and its 2000’s counterpart. There was no new lesson to learn, nothing to expand upon, just beautiful carnage and delicious retro sci-fi ships with interiors to match. The problem is that if this film is successful, will it spawn a spiritual Star Wars sequel? The Last Sith? Probably not, but in so much as this film has no original ideas, it does create a new branch to follow during its runtime.  As much as the characters lack in richness, the inspection of the callous nature of Weyland-Yutani as an entity is much more clear in this film than any other. Specifically because we see both their heavy handed nature and the method of their control over the daily lives of people in their employ. Before this film, the company seemed to loom in the background, like the parent company of a conglomerate full of child companies who have never met their owner, bought from a financial broker before they learned to run. You can almost hear the takeover speech from the c-suite, “We have been bought, but nothing changes”. 

I enjoyed my relief from the Texas sun, sitting aglow in another tale of how the universe is ultimately indifferent to humanity. Put another way, how lucky we are to be alive. Put one more way, how unlucky we are to recognize any of this at all. The dichotomy of being able to look into the abyss only to see it stare back at you is palpable in the Alien pantheon. Alien: Romulus is no different. Where the other films struck out striking out for something new, this film plays it close to home for better or worse. It is immensely entertaining and immediately engrossing, a heavy familiar coat. And while it leaves me with confidence in everyone who made it, I don’t have much confidence in its addition to the legacy that is Alien. This series has more swings for the fences than any other like it, and because of that, even its failures are notable and re-watchable. I re-watch films to see something new I didn’t see the last time, but I feel like that will be exhausted in the next couple of viewings, where films like Prometheus and Covenant will have me re-examining why they failed for years to come. What could they have done differently? Why did they make one choice over another? All of this is clear in Romulus from the first viewing. Because it looked damn good. Because they already know it will make for a good time at the theater. And you while you can blame them for not taking too many chances, you can’t say it wasn’t a good time.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Do you have any HR with the hero/heroine spying on the hero/heroine doing or going somewhere and then get caught and confronted by the hero/heroine, idk it could be a lake or something, idk if I'm explaning myself

I think I got some stuff for you

Elizabeth Hoyt has these vibes often due to the nature of her books lol:

Thief of Shadows--I mean, Winter is a masked vigilante and Isabel is basically trying to figure out it's him for much of the book. NOW. Her method for figuring it out IS sucking his dick behind a curtain, but still.

Duke of Midnight--Maximus is ALSO a masked vigilante (it's a thing, there's a shared identity) and Artemis catches him doing all that and blackmails him

Duke of Sin--I mean Valentine technically spies on Bridget for like 3-4 months while he lives in his own walls, but I also think there are times when they catch each other doing various nefarious things

A Secret Love by Stephanie Laurens has a heroine masquerading as a widow in order to extract a favor from her childhood friend-turned nemesis. There's a big moment when he catches her slipping up... which is after he has Done Shit with that masked lady, mind you lol.

The Many Sins of Lord Cameron by Jennifer Ashley has the heroine spying on the hero with another woman (at the very beginning of the book--he and the heroine are not by any means together and this woman is just like some random he's trying to fuck lol) and he's very aware that she's spying and chases the other woman way before being like "and you are here why?" The heroine is really good at picking locks and creeping, and he's super turned on by the thought of her being a voyeur lol.

If you wanna go more hardcore on this, The Recruit by Monica McCarty has the heroine make first contact with the hero when she spies on him fucking another lady. They've never met and it's a doggy style deal so he makes eye contact with the heroine and gets off on her watching. He confronts her AFTER lol.

Olivia and The Masked Duke by Grace Callaway is another "post-viewing" confrontation, but the heroine spies on the hero spanking another woman before they're together. It Awakens Her.

The Duke Who Knew Too Much by Grace Callaway. lmao THIS ONE is HILARIOUS because this very innocent but nosy heroine spies on the hero when he and his mistress are doing a light CNC (by way of bondage) and busts in like "UNHAND HER!!" and the mistress goes with it because she doesn't wanna be seen as freak. Then the mistress dies... and the hero has to explain to our heroine that he's not a murderer he's just like... into kinky sex.

Never Seduce a Scot by Maya Banks may be juuust what you need lol. The hero is trying to resist consummating his marriage with the heroine (she's deaf, he doesn't think she can consent though she totally can) and then walks in on her bathing in a lake. He's not God's strongest soldier.

The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen by K.J. Charles I think, has the one hero desperately trying to catch the other hero, a smuggler, in the act, as revenge for blackmail. It's great lol. The Nobleman's Guide to Seducing a Scoundrel also has one hero discover the other, his secretary, snooping around the house late at night. And then he's like "I wasn't snooping, I was just trying to fuck???"

Shadowheart by Laura Kinsale has Allegreto walk in on Elena sneaking around his weird little collection room, and he's all "I CAN DO YOUR BIRTH CHART" and she's like "what" because he's crazy.

Tempt Me at Twilight by Lisa Kleypas has Harry and Poppy officially meet when she's creeping around HIS collection (we love a hero or heroine with a weird collection tbh).

The Lady Hellion by Joanna Shupe has the hero catch the heroine when she's masquerading a man to try to help sex workers by night. Like he's all "I GOTTA FIND OUT WHAT THE FUCK SHE'S UP TO" and then he's like "hmm that was hotter than I expected".

[thankful]

14 may 2023 (USA Mother’s Day!)

I really had a nice day today… I’m extremely thankful for my girls (the one who made me a mom, the one who is my rainbow girl, and the one who challenges me every day) and for Cameron & his chocolate chip pancake skillz :) He had a print made and framed of one of my pix of the girls from this winter. And he also bought me these flowers, which I will try to plant but will ultimately kill, I’m sure 🙃 and this slice of cake, yum! I got to be outside / in the sun for HOURS today! Some of it reading Pride & Prejudice, some of it playing bubbles / Red Light Green Light, evaluating sand creations, etc etc. I got a terrible t-shirt tan line on my upper arm 😱 yay for some UV rays after being soooooooooooo deficient this winter!

So yea, I’m thankful :)

(This pic was from Friday, but still 🤪)