#i blame my drafting process

[rottmnt-residuum]

Part 6 of Arc II (Part 32)

the elevator music is kokomo btw sksksk

⇇ | ⇽ | index | ⇾ (censored) | ⇾ (gore)

[chaoticgoodthief]

You meet him in the woods, inside an abandoned witch's hut that you had entered to escape from the raging storm outside. You stood frozen when you saw him there, chained to the wall and with flowers growing out of his skin like the most beautiful parasites you've ever seen. "Oh. Hello there," he rasps, looking up to meet your gaze.

You stare, unsure of what to even say in such circumstances. "...Does it hurt?" you finally blurt out, adverting your gaze when you realise how foolish your question is. You can see the torn skin at the bottom of every flower's thick stem, the blood coating the floor around him, the defeated look in his eyes.

"It hurts, yes," he agrees, "Constantly." And then he laughs, a bitter sound that echoes through the cobwebbed walls. "But it is what I deserve."

"What could you have possibly done to deserve this fate?" you ask, horror seeping into your voice. You knew that witches could be dangerous when angered, but you don't know why any would go so far as to subject someone to countless years of torture.

"I was... a prideful young thing. Thought of myself as a witch hunter, when in truth I was a naive idiot on a power trip. And all it took was a single spell for me to be the one on their knees, begging for mercy." A witch hunter. No. That was impossible. There hadn't been a single witch hunter since... since...

It had to be at least several hundred years, maybe even more. Longer than any human was meant to live, no matter what spells were placed on them. You would have accused him of lying, but you can see the signs you had missed before. The length of its nails, the lumps of wild hair strewn across the floor.

"How long have you been here? What are you?" You reach for your iron shortsword, the only weapon you had with you. It wasn't much, but it had served you well in the past. And he shifts. His ears become pointed, his teeth sharper, his nails thickening into claws. But the flowers remain, their roots now visibly pulsing under his unearthly pale skin.

And the vampire laughs again, tilts its head upward and cackles like a madman. Fear grips your heart, and you force any sympathy it had elicited from you deep into the back of your mind. "I will free you from eternity." You whisper, your voice shaking as the blade drives deep into the vampire's heart.

It smiles at you, its hand skimming across your cheek for mere seconds before falling limp.

Agony bursts in your skin where it touched you, and you drop your sword to the ground clutching at the area for what feels like an eternity in fear that you will succumb to its fate.

But finally, the pain subsides, and you are left with nothing but the lingering fear of what could have been.

You run.

Deep Water Prompt #1888

All manner of flowers grew thick stemmed out of his skin. “It hurts, yes,” he said, “constantly.”

[rowdydevs]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕪-𝔽𝕚𝕧𝕖: 𝔽𝕖𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕟’ 𝕃𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕪

𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: mutual pining, swearing, drinking, rafe and the reader are intoxicated, oral (male + female receiving), bathroom sex, semi-public sex, spanking, unprotected p in v, pullout method, rough oral, dirty talk, praise wet + messy, cum tasting

📖 All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! When you're getting hit on by a loser at your local college bar “boyfriend” Rafe comes in to save the day.

Reader’s POV:

The crowd's roar is deafening as you sit pressed against the glass of the college hockey area. The game had barely begun, but the energy was already electric—hit after hit, shot after shot. Your friend Lexi shouts and claps, pulling you out of your daze as she bangs her wool mittens against the glass.

Rafe Cameron… Your eyes track him as he streams by confidently, his red and black jersey rippling behind him as he skates, dodging the defenseman on his way to the net.

You smile, biting your lip as you look at the man before you. He sat two rows ahead of you in your accounting class, the two of you exchanging no more than two words all year. Still, there’s just something about him that has your heart racing every time you see him.

“You’re staring,” your friend smiles, looking at you from the corner of her eye. She lifts her draft beer to her lips, grinning against the rim before sipping.

“What?” You giggle as you stuff your hands in your pockets. “Am not.” You lie as the warmth of your little crush creeps up your neck, pooling hot in your cheeks.

“Yes, you are, she teases. “And, honestly, I don’t blame you…”

You roll your eyes away, but you can’t get the smile off your face. Rafe skates by the student section, glancing briefly at the glass as he cleans the snow off his stick. The corners of his lips curl into a smile, making your pulse skip, but you quickly shake it off.

I mean, it was a good shift… He had to be happy about that; you explain it away.

After the game wore on, the players moved faster, hits got harder, and the scoreboard stayed locked at an even 2 to 2. You could feel the determination and intensity radiating off him every time he hit the ice; you couldn’t take your eyes off him—like you would’ve regardless.

With less than a minute of play, Rafe broke away from the traffic with the puck on his stick. The crowd rose to its feet, getting louder and louder the closer he got until he drew his stick back and fired at the net. The sound of the rubber puck clanged off the pipe, and the crowd went wild when the red light flashed. The buzzer drones, its sound quickly swallowed up in the Goal Song.

You jump to your feet, clapping and cheering with the crowd. Rafe skates toward the middle, grinning as his teammates mob him, but once that celebration breaks apart, he turns to the student section, helmet off, hair wet with sweat, staring directly at you, smiling, sealing the deal with a cheeky wink.

There was no mistaking it… The look, the smile, the wink. It was meant for you and you alone.

“Did you see that?” Your friend screams before you can even fully process what happened.

“I… Uh…” You stammer, looking at her to confirm what you saw before you say anything, knowing full-well she could be asking about the goal and not Rafe.

“Oh, please,” Lexi scoffs teasingly as she shoves you away. “That shit was for you, and you know it.”

The car ride to the bar was filled with music and laughter. You can't help but get lost in your thoughts. Replaying that moment a few times before opening Instagram, fingers hovering over the search bar.

“Just do it,” your friend laughs, watching it all; face twisting slightly as she catches you debating.

“I didn't ask you,” you chide light-heartedly.

“You’re thinkin’ about followin’ him… Just do it,” she challenges you.

“Do you think that he would have followed me if he was interested?” You ask as you look at his handsome profile picture.

You hesitate for another second, looking through a couple of his newer pictures. And just when you’re about to take the plunge, you look up at the little heart in the right-hand corner, seeing a new notification. New follower, Rafe Cameron.

Your eyes widen on the screen, and you and your friend gasp in unison. Before you can even think about it further, she clicks the little blue confirm button for you.

“What the hell?” You scold her, slapping her away.

“I’m invested, I’m sorry,” she laughs. “What? Were you gonna say ‘no’?” You shake your head ‘no’ and smile, looking at your new friend, feeling your excitement rise.

The bar downtown is packed with post-game and Saturday night traffic. The music is loud, and the energy is high as students pour in to celebrate the hockey team’s win and the start of winter break. You push through the crowd, making your way up to the bar. You order a few mixed drinks before snapping some pictures.

”Ooh,” Lexi coos. “That one’s perfect.”

You upload the pic of the two of you holding drinks, tagging the bar. It wasn’t entirely intentional—or that’s what you told yourself. If Rafe just happens to see it and shows up? Well, that was just a beautiful coincidence.

The night rages on, drinks flowing, conversations blending into laughter, more friends arriving, turning your little group of two into a full-on party. You start to relax a little more, feeling the liquor course through your system, and then you feel something else as a large hand rests on your lower back.

“Hey, Babe.”

Your eyes widen, and you freeze, hearing a voice you were not expecting nor wanted to hear. You turn slowly, coming face-to-face with Mark, a guy from your accounting class, too. The kind of guy who made you excited about the semester’s end. Unfortunately, he was the type of guy who never took ‘no’ for an answer…

“Hi, Mark,” you mumble, keeping your tone flat and uninterested, knowing that even the slightest bit of kindness would be confused for much more.

“You looking stunning tonight,” he praises as he steps even closer, making you take one step back.

“Thanks,” you sigh.

“You here with anyone?” He asks curiously as he scans the crowd. Your friend looks between the two of you—her judgment of his hidden piss-poorly. The girl was unapologetically Team Rafe all the way, and Mark Lundell is no Rafe Cameron.

“Just my friends,” you say as you swirl your finger around lazily, gesturing to your group gathered around.

“No invite?” He fake pouts and you feel your body recoil when you hear it. Mark seems to notice your disdain, but it doesn't stop him from trying. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in possessively. You rest your hand on his chest, pushing away slightly, but he doesn’t get the hint.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you-”

“No thanks,” you shout over the music, not even curious about what he meant to ask.

He chuckles and scoffs playfully, turning his hat to the back as he moves his face closer. “Hey-Hey, don’t be like that,” he soughs.

You close your eyes, swallowing thickly as he continues to talk, wondering what it’s gonna take to get him to fuck off- “She’s with me,” Rafe’s voice rolls through your mind like a sweet dream.

You turn, breath catching as you see Rafe walking in, just a few feet separating the two of you with his big hands stuffed in his jacket. His sharp gaze locks on Mark, and he gives him a little whistle and a nod, kindly telling him to ‘fuck off.’

Mark scowls, looking down at you and then Rafe. “Cameron?” He asks. The two boys are familiar with each other from the gym locker room—exchanging glances when the baseball boys leave and the hockey boys arrive.

“I’m her boyfriend,” Rafe says smoothly, eliminating the space between you. Your heart stutters at the word, but Rafe doesn’t miss a beat, reaching behind you to shove Mark out of the way before taking his “rightful” place at your side.

“Since when?” Mark asks as his expressions shifts.

“Since none of your fuckin’ business, Lundell,” Rafe smiles, his tone calm but firm.

“You know, if you’re not interested, you can just say that,” Mark snaps, recovering from his bruised ego by turning to the bartender, gesturing for a new bottle of Coors. “You don’t need to be a fuckin’ bitch-”

“The fuck was that now?” Rafe smiles, his eyes wide and wild as he separates from you, standing toe-to-toe with him. Mark doesn’t back down, his chest puffed as he looks slightly up at Rafe.

Rafe bites his lips, holding back a laugh, his relaxed demeanor’s somehow more intimidating than any show of aggression.

“Call her a fuckin’ bitch again, and we’re gonna have a problem…”

“Oh, yeah-”

“Honestly, bitch. We already have problems because regardless of who the fuck I am, she told you no… And you kept pushin’,” Rafe hisses, emphasizing the final word with a rough shove.

Mark’s a big guy himself, who doesn’t move too far, but the contact made him flinch, leaving Rafe holding back yet another chuckle.

“Walk away,” Rafe mumbles, his voice low and steady.

Mark’s dark eyes lock on yours. The bartender walks over, resting his beer on the bar top. He takes his out, snagging the bottle off the hardwood before rolling his eyes and sucking his teeth, disappearing into the thick college crowd.

You breathe deeply, letting out the deep breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in, quickly turning your attention to Rafe.

“You okay?” He asks protectively as he twists toward you.

You look up at him, your heart racing, and you nod, “Yeah… Thanks for that.”

“No problem,” he shrugs it off. Rafe rests his hand on your lower back, making your heart race, lighting you on fire as he flags down the bartender himself. “You want a drink, princess?”

Before you can overthink it, you rise onto your tippy toes, kissing his cheek. Rafe freezes, a soft, shy smile spreading on his lips, making her feel weak.

“Truly… Thank you,” you whisper. “Do you want a drink? It’s on me,” you assure me, turning your attention to the bartender as she arrives, but you can tell Rafe’s mind is still stuck on the kiss. “Rafe?” You giggle, resting your hand on his chest, feeling his heart bang underneath.

“Uh… Yeah. I’d love that, sweetheart. A Coors. Thanks.”

You order your drink, and Rafe reaches over you, his arms a little longer. He passes the bartender his card instead, starting a tab as you protest, but he just rolls his blue eyes and smiles.

The rest of the night is a blur of laughter, easy conversation, and alcohol. Rafe’s charming, funny, and much more than the reserved guy you had seen in class.

You talk about everything—school, hockey, your favorite places in town—and with every passing minute, your little crush blooms into something more. You feel comfortable, like you’ve known each other forever. And to Mark and the rest of the bar, that little boyfriend title he used honestly looked like the real thing.

At some point, the drinks catch up with the both of you. Rafe leans closer, his breath warm against your neck, making you turn into him. The boy quickly pulling you up onto his lap.

“You know…” He says, his words slightly slurred. “I’ve had a big fat crush on you all semester.”

Your eyes widen on his, hands resting on his chest as your mouth falls open in surprise. “You have?” You practically gasp, making him laugh at how happy you look with his admittance.

“Mhmm,” he hums as he wraps his big arms around your waist, moving closer. “You’re so—fuck,” he chuckles as the words get caught on his lips. “You are so fuckin’ pretty.” You laugh and shake your head. “What?” He asks bashfully.

“You, Rafe Cameron, are the prettiest boy I have ever seen-”

“I’m pretty?” He chuckles, lifting his eyebrow as he points to his chest.

“Mhmm…” You giggle.

“Well, shit… Thank you,” he smiles and flutters his lashes playfully.

Just like Mark did, Rafe grabs his hat, twisting it to the back, trying to eliminate the space between the two of you, but unlike the boy before, your tummy only fills with butterflies. Rafe tips his heavy head against your temple, chuckling drunkenly.

“I’ve had a crush on you too,” you admit, and as soon as the last word leaves your lips, he’s wrapping his big arms around you, pressing a rough, wet kiss against your cheek, making you squeal.

“The fuck you have?” He asks as he pulls back fast.

“I’m serious," you giggle as you turn to the side, looking directly into his gorgeous eyes.

Rafe bites his lip, studying yours, his glassy gaze hanging at half-mast. “Well, shit… S’my lucky night. Huh?” He asks.

“Feelin’ pretty lucky myself,” you whisper as the two of you get closer and closer. The air between you feels electric—charged with the buzz of too many drinks and sexual tension. Rafe’s gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, the two of you not realizing how close you’re getting until your lips connect.

The bar around you hums in the distance, and it feels like just the two of you for the moment. It’s uncoordinated—but perfect in its imperfection. Your lips move against his, making heat radiate through your body. Rafe smiles against your lips; you return the same, the pair of you pulling apart, giggling like teenagers caught in the act.

You look at Rafe—that same fire lit his eyes that’s burning in yours. He holds your cheeks in his hands, desperate to kiss him again.

“Should we-”

”We should,” you hum.

“Do that again. Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you giggle. Rafe guides you off the stool, pulling closer, the two of you stumbling slightly, giggling before your lips find each other again.

“We’re kinda drunk,” he whispers against your mouth.

“Is that okay?” You breathe, just hoping he’ll say ‘yes.’

“It’s okay with me. Is it okay with you, princess?” He asks.

“It’s okay-” You pant as your lips crash into his, warm and messy. You let out a soft moan against his lips, hands scratching into the hair at the nape of his neck as his hands roam your body. His grip on you is firm—yet another assurance that he wants you just as bad.

The world spins around you, your head fuzzy from the drinks and your perfect kiss. You break away just enough to grab his hand, tugging him toward the hallway. "Where are we-" Rafe starts, but you cut him short with another kiss, this one hungrier, more insistent.

"The bathroom," you whisper against his lips, feeling him smile again. Rafe draws back, looking both ways before opening the door. The two of you kiss your way inside, pushing back into the first open stall.

Rafe grabs your hips in his big hands, pulling you into him. You can feel his semi-hard cock pressed against his jeans, getting stiffer every second. You let out a breathy sigh against his soft, sweet mouth, Rafe taking the opportunity to slide his tongue inside as his lips move against yours.

He rolls his back against the bathroom wall, making you gasp as his thigh splits your legs. He leans back slightly, guiding you closer, leading you to grind your aching clit on his upper thigh. Rafe smiles against your lips as you take his wordless direction. He moves his hands from his lips to your ass, squeezing as you rock with the tempo of your kiss.

You gasp as you feel his cool hands rest against your tummy, your little breath turning into a deep, needy moan as he cups your laced-covered breasts in his rough hands.

You continue to grind as his lips press roughly against your neck, sucking with a bruising strength as you feel a warmth spread through you, little pangs of pleasure spurring from between your thighs.

You draw back slightly, biting your lip as you ride his leg. Rafe stares back at you, the look in his eyes painting a filthy picture of the two of you doing so much more. Thinking about you riding him just like this, your warm, wet cunt hugging him tight.

You can feel yourself soaking through your panties with each swivel of your hips. You grab his beautiful face, pulling him in for another kiss, hungry for more. “Rafe,” you whisper needily, your name leaving his lips so sweetly, making him moan into your kiss.

“Yeah, pretty?” He rasps, this voice sweet and thick like honey.

“Can I?” You ask shyly, but honestly, it’s why you brought him in here in the first place, desperately wanting your lips wrapped around him and maybe more…

“Can you what, princess?” He drawls before taking your bottom lip between his teeth, biting and tugging, making chills fall down your spine.

“Can I suck your cock?” You ask gently, feeling Rafe let out a breathy laugh like he can’t believe those words are leaving your sweet lips.

“You sure, baby?” He asks as he reaches his hand down, already working on his button.

You move down to your knees, looking at him through your lashes. “M’sure,” you smile. “Very, very sure.”

You grope his clothed cock with one hand, drawing his zipper down with the other before lowering his pants just enough, looking at his dick tented under the cotton, a wet stain of precum gathered on it. You wrap your lips around his tip, wetting Rafe’s boxers, making his breath catch in his muscular chest.

You suck the taste off, quickly pulling down his boxers too. Your eyelashes flutter as you take him in, his tip still weeping precum, long and thick… You release a desperate moan, thinking about what his length would feel like pushing in and out of your wet cunt, wondering if you could take him all.

You stroke him slowly, watching his eyes fall shut, head falling back on the metal partition. Your heart sinks a little, seeing his head sticking out over the top of the stall about four inches; those concerns quickly wave away as you hear a deep groan leave his lips.

Rafe looks down at you again as you hold his throbbing dick in your hand, running your tongue along his length before teasing the tip. Your hand drifts under his t-shirt, fingers working up his cut abs, feeling the little divots under your fingers deepening with each sharp breath he takes.

“Shit,” he pants as you bind your lips around him fully. Rafe wraps his hand around the top of the bathroom door, squeezing tightly as you take him to the back of your throat, bobbing again and again.

Rafe’s head falls back, knocking against the wall, making his eyes double at the loud sound; the man quickly shushing you with a finger up to his pretty lips and a playful smile like you had anything to do with that noise.

You wrap your lips around his tip, sucking, causing him to buck his toned hips, pitching his long cock in your throat. You lift your hand, slipping it through the slight space between his body and jeans, cupping his heavy balls in your hands.

"Fuck, princess," he groans, "I’m gonna cum.” You take your cue, gagging on him, salvia and precum drooling out of the sides of your lips. He bites his lips, stiffening deep moan.

You rest your hands on his thighs— Rafe’s muscles quivering underneath your palms. He cups the back of your head in his hands, tugging you as close as he can get as he cums deep in your throat.

His breath shudders as you draw out the last bits of his pleasure, swallowing it all as he looks down at you in a drunken, lust-ridden daze. Rafe pushes out a sharp breath as you pull off his cock nice and slow, cleaning off your lips with the back of your hand as he helps you off the floor, leading you back to him. You pant into your kiss, your deep breathing competing with his. “That was so fucking good,” he mumbles.

“Mmm… Glad I could make you feel good,” you whisper as you tug up his boxers, trapping his hard cock in the band of it, not wanting to pressure him into more, given you were the one that pulled him in here in the first place. “Should we head out?” You ask, between soft kisses.

“I don’t wanna,” he mumbles. “Do you?”

You giggle against his lips, moving a little closer. “No… I just don’t wanna pressure-“

“Pressure me?” He asks in disbelief, stopping you before you can finish the thought as his big hands cup your cheeks, pulling you into an even deeper kiss. “You fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”

“I don’t know,” you giggle lightly.

“You can use me however you’d like, princess,” he whispers. “Told you… It’s my lucky night. I’m feelin’ lucky. I’m gettin’ lucky. This is the best night I’ve had in a very long time,” he mumbles the last three words between tender kisses. ”Let me taste you, sweetheart.”

”Yeah?” You ask softly.

“Fuck, yeah…” He hums as he fingers the button of your jeans. “Let me get you good and wet first, hmm?” He asks as he rolls you against the wall.

Rafe tugs at your pants just like you did, making you gasp, pulling them down just enough to get at your panties. He slips his big fingers into the waist pant, spreading your legs slightly, making you whimper as he runs two big digits through your slick folds.

“Shit, pretty. Fuckin’ soaked f’me already,” he hums against your lips. “Bet you’d feel so good wrapped around my cock.” He pushes his fingers inside you, making you reach for a breath; Rafe curls them, drawing out a moan from your pillowy lips.

“I want that so bad,” you pant as you stare into his sin-darkened eyes as he starts to work even quicker, broad palm smacking against your puffy clit repeatedly, making it that much harder to hold back your sounds of pleasure.

“You want my dick, princess?”

“Mhmm…” You hum needily.

“Think you can wait?” Rafe teases as he twists his hand, making a moan rip from your throat that has you both looking at each other in shock, fighting back a laugh that quickly turns into another whine as his rough thumb circles on top of your clit.

You bite down on your bottom lip, tossing your head back, and just when you think it can get any better, he moves to his knees, flicking his tongue across your clit, making your muscles jump as his fingers continue to dart in and out. Rafe chuckles against your clit, the warmth of his voice making you whimper, toes curling, fingers twisting in his hair.

“Just like that, Rafe… Don’t stop,” you plead as you feel yourself about to lose control completely.

“Cum for me, princess,” he hums against your sex, the vibrations sending you over the edge, leaving your body fluttering around his big fingers, muscles trembling uncontrollably. He doesn’t stop until your body relaxes fully, you fighting for a breath as you slump against the bathroom wall.

“Holy shit,” he practically moans as he rises to his feet again, his handsome face flushed, chin glistening with your arousal. You pull Rafe to your lips, tasting the two of you together, your body feeling like it could float away.

Rafe pushes you into the wall, his cock hard just like it was before—his want for you practically oozing off his skin. “So, should we get out of here?” He teases you with your own words, chuckling against your lips as you giggle against his; Rafe has no intention of leaving unless that’s what you want. You have no intention of leaving either as you tug at his jeans and boxers again. “Need you so fucking bad,” Rafe mutters as he turns you around, grabbing your wrists, guiding your hands on the wall in front of you as you push your ass onto his hard cock.

Rafe’s hands drift underneath your hockey jersey, lifting it slightly as you bend over. “Gonna get you one of my older jerseys when we get home, aight?” He hums, smacking your ass with his big hand.

“You’re takin’ me home?” You ask sweetly.

“Yeah, baby… ‘Course I am,” he drawls as he leans in, pressing his chest against your back, pushing a gentle kiss on your lips as he traces his fat tip through your slit, bumping your clit, making you gasp.

“We doin’ condoms or what, princess?” Rafe questions as he bullies your hole, bottom lip tucking between his teeth, teasing himself with your warm, wet pussy praying you’ll say ‘no.’

“Boyfriend privileges,” you giggle as you look over your shoulder and smile, giving him a little wink.

“Fuck, I love the sound of that, baby-”

You draw in a sharp breath against as Rafe thrusts into you slowly, his fat tip filling you before he presses in inch by inch, finally bottoming you out. His hands rub along your lower back, letting you adjust to his size; your cunt pulling him in just like he imagined, leaving him tossing his head back to the ceiling.

Rafe grabs your hips, grunting about how tight you are as he pulls out to the tip, shoving himself back inside, making you reach behind your back, wrapping your trembling hand around his wrist to steady yourself and keep from crying out.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the bathroom, but you couldn't care less. And neither does Rafe, slapping your ass again, making your pussy tighten around his fat cock as he ruts into you quicker and harder.

“Holy shit,” you whimper, your bottom lip quivering in overstimulation.

“Mpfhh…” He grunts, pounding into your soaked center again and again. “So good, princess… Taking me so fuckin’ good. You gonna cum? Fuckin’ cum for me,” he begs as he pulls you back fast, pistoning his hips, fucking you on his dick as your fingers spiral on your clit.

“Oh—Oh, fuck. Rafe,” you squeal as you cum around his cock. Rafe’s jaw tightens, using his last bit of power to fuck you through your orgasm, and the second he pulls out, you gasp, feeling his climax land hot on your lower back. His cum pools in the dip of your spine, rolling down your warm skin.

Rafe clutches your hips in his hands, taking a deep breath as his throbbing dick resting on your ass. The two of you panting and groaning, coming down from your highs together.

He cleans you off, helping you back into your clothes between soft kisses and sweet nothings. Rafe looks at your sweater, scrubbing off a little bit of cum caught on the fabric, making a joke about how he’s technically on the back of your jersey now, making the two of you laugh way too hard.

Rafe’s hand is warm in yours; his firm yet gentle grip guides you through the packed bar. Laughter and music swell around you, but all you can focus on is Rafe’s touch and his thumb gently brushing against your hand.

The two of you step up to the bar at the same spot where you started your night, standing side-by-side with your knight in shining armor. You glance up at him and smile as he orders you two drinks before closing your tab.

Rafe kiss-swollen lips curl into a small smile as he feels the heat of your gaze out of the corner of his eye. He grabs the check off her hands, scribbling a tip and a total. Rafe sets it down and moves a little closer, stepping chest to chest with you; your back backed up against the bar. His hair is messy from your bathroom romp; slightly mussed, a soft purple mark forming on his neck from your lips, a particularly rough kiss.

Rafe grabs your hand, flipping it over, pen hovering over your palm. You watch as he works: his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, his chicken scratch handwriting tattooing your skin, but the words stop your heart.

Tomorrow night 7 pm Luna Rosa I like you a lot -RC

You blink, rereading it like your brain is playing tricks on you. But then he looks at you—those intense, drunken eyes locked onto yours—and kisses the back of your hand.

“I mean it, princess,” he mumbles softly. “In case you had any doubts.”

You rise on your tippy toes, kissing his cheek again like you did earlier in the night before tucking yourself in his neck. “I really like you too, Rafe,” you whisper.

When you pull away this time, he’s not just stunned silent; he’s ready. Rafe cups your cheeks in his hands again, kissing you deeply, pulling you into his arms, and there is absolutely no doubts. ♥️

[fallingforyouforeverr]

𝐍𝐚𝐩 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | 𝐎𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐏𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢

summary: Oscar misses a team meeting, but when Lando goes to look for him, he gets a surprise

author's note: i finally published my first f1 fic!! sorry it's so short, but I have a bunch of other drafts I'm working on rn that will hopefully be finished soon. also, i literally wrote this at midnight inspired by a picture i saw on Pinterest so it's kinda bad but oh well

warnings: none, just fluff (600+ words)

• f1 masterlist • youtubers masterlist •

It was no secret to anyone that Oscar was a clingy boyfriend. The other drivers loved to compare him to a koala because of how often he would wrap himself around you, pulling you close to him and resting his head on top of yours. Although he often annoyed others by getting distracted by you, they couldn't even blame you for it and even Zak had to admit his clingyness was actually quite cute.

Today however, it was annoying – especially to Lando who had spent the last 20 minutes searching for his teammate after he failed to show up to the team meeting. He had already checked everywhere he could think of and was beginning to contemplate calling the police and reporting the younger boy missing when he heard a faint snore coming from a small room on his left. Slowly pushing open the door, Lando was met with the sight of you and Oscar sleeping on a sofa, your limbs so tightly wrapped around each other that it was hard to tell where you ended and he began.

As quietly as he could, Lando took out his phone and snapped a picture of the two of you and posted it on his story. He slid it back in his pocket, wondering how to wake his teammate without disturbing you, when Oscar stirred, stretching out his long limbs and opening his bleary eyes.

"Wakey wakey sleepyhead," Lando teased, causing the other boy to groan.

Oscar wriggled his arm out from under you, bringing it up to rub his eyes. "What time is it?" He asked.

"It's almost 2"

"WHAT!" Oscar shot up, accidentally waking you in the process, "shit I missed the meeting didn't I."

"Oz? What's wrong?" You spoke as you sat up, voice still slightly scratchy from sleep.

He froze, looking at you with wide eyes and a guilty expression. "Um... I forgot to set an alarm and I kinda slept through the team meeting."

"Oscar!" You scolded with a laugh, " Zak is gonna be so mad!"

Lando chuckled, making you jump as you hadn't realised he was there. "Oh yeah, he's pissed by the way."

Dragging a hand down his face with a sigh, your boyfriend reluctantly pulled himself out of your arms and stood up. "I'm gonna go catch up with the team," he announced, raking a hand through his hair as he rushed out to the garage.

"Oh I can't wait to see what Zak is gonna say about this" Lando began, a grinning cheekily at you. Narrowing your eyes at him in response, he held up his hands in surrender. "Ok, alright, I'm going!"

Smiling wryly at his childish antics, you began packing away your stuff, knowing that Oscar would be finished soon as he tended to become antisocial when tired. Just as you finished putting the last item in your bag, the Australian appeared in the doorway, affection laced with exhaustion in his eyes as he observed you. When you had finished, he held out his hand for you to grab as he led you through the McLaren hospitality. You had almost reached the exit when a familiar voice rang out behind you.

"Ah, Oscar, there you are!"

You both turned around guiltily to come face to face with a less than pleased Zak Brown. "We missed you in the meeting earlier, mate. I hope that nap was worth it."

"Oh yeah sorry I was um-" Oscar paused, a frown overtaking his features as he realised what the older man had said. "Wait how do you know about that?"

Zak chuckled, calling over his shoulder as he walked away, "Let's just say a certain someone isn't very good at keeping secrets."

"Lando, that absolute muppet!"

[lilacgaby]

title: i've changed, won't you see?

pairing: prohero!katsuki x reader

summary: katsuki ruined your life when you were small, giving you a life altering injury, though getting nothing more than a pat on the back. throughout his successes he can't get you out of his mind, so he sets out to make amends with you.

tags: silent voice inspired!! childhood bully katsuki :(, disabled reader, mentions of violence, angst to fluff, su1cide attempt, comfort, implied nsfw, no proofread

(a/n: i wanted to give my hand at really long works while doing drabbles in between but i have so many drafts now jajsjsj)

wc: ~4k

your eyes were always blurry around him it seemed. your hands shaking as your voice cracked, just begging him. "please leave me alone!" with all the might a five year old could muster.

they scoffed at you, they always did. "crybaby. blame your parents for not giving you a quirk. you should've moved when i told you to anyways, it's my park dont you know?" katsuki mocked, moving closer to you, noticing the card behind your back.

"stop being so mean! quirkless people don't do anything wrong!"

"quirkless don't do anything."

your chest was heaving with pain, your little heart couldn't take it. "you-- you'll never be a hero, you're too mean!"

in an act of rage, he set off an explosion. it was only meant to intimidate you but..

once the smoke settled your screams of terror filled the playground.

blood dripped on the floor, pooling in your hand as your grasped your ear. a ringing was all you could hear, it was driving you crazy.

were you crying? you couldn't tell, you couldn't hear. your eyes were shut as you were filled with panic, the smell of iron flooding your senses.

but katsuki remembered so much more.

the smell of the burned cartilage of your ear, the sight of it, or rather the lack of. the blood that wouldn't stop coming, why wasn't it stopping?

his group that usually rallied behind him was now gone, leaving him and a wailing you alone. he tried to talk to you, but you weren't responding.

he grew the courage to touch you, tapping on your shoulder slowly, but that didn't comfort you. in fact he thought it made it worse, making you bow your head in a defensive position.

he stared at you, unable to move, he was supposed to be a hero like allmight, were you right?

finally, a teacher came running to get you, an ambulance already on the way. they didn't look at katsuki, only at the pitiful state you were in.

you didn't respond to them either.

katsuki felt sick as he stood where you and the teacher had left them. he felt sick as he looked down to the remains of what he'd done to you.

he couldn't process it yet, but he felt a sickening despair and guilt be placed upon his shoulders.

one that wouldn't disappear.

he wasn't blamed for anything, only getting a quirk consolation. they thought he lost control? his parents eyed him as he tried to explain what had truely happened, he didn't know why he was trying, did he want to get punished?

but even after, nothing was done. with a lecture and a couple promises he was sent back to class with nothing done to him.

your life was changed forever though, it was apparent in the way that you seemed even more quiet and closed off. you sat in the back, never spoke to anyone, and got teary eyed when he even stood close to you.

your hair covered your ears constantly, a hearing aid peeking through the strands occasionally. the teacher never forced you to participate, none of them ever made an effort.

the teacher had explained to the class how you were completely deaf in one ear, and extremely hard of hearing in the other. how you'd use sign language from now on, and that the class would learn some in support. they never did though, the conversation going ignored as soon as it was uttered.

you were pulled out of class often, the teacher having to tap you on the shoulder to get your attention. your eyes dejected and your presence small as the person who came to get you made gestures with their hands to you.

you'd been cruelly placed in matching classes 'til your last years of junior high. you'd stayed the same way for forever, it was like a weight placed over his chest.

yet he felt he deserved it. he knew he was messed up. he watched you, a lot. he saw you in the back corners, usually forgotten and ignored. when you were acknowledged you were mocked, people making random hand signs to make fun of the way he forced you to communicate, mocking your unconfident speech right after.

he saw the way you sunk into yourself afterwards, making his heart hurt as you grew impossibly smaller. your hands held your own as you prayed for it to be over.

everytime you'd catch him in the halls, you'd still freeze up. your breath shaky as you bowed and left quickly, making his friends laugh but make him queasy.

that interaction was witnessed by your teacher who, after a day of you not showing up, assigned him to give you your work for the day.

with sweaty palms and a racing heart, he dropped by your house. he knew where it was, of course he did, your mom and his were close industry friends even after the incident.

because you'd never told anyone about what he'd do to you.

he knocked on the door, attempting to seem nonchalant. when you answered though, he felt his heart lurch in his chest.

"[name], uh-- this is your work."

you didn't respond, you looked almost nauseous at the sight of him, it was deserved though.

he placed your work on the floor and walked off, that was the only time he'd spoken to you since the incident,

and he couldn't even apologize.

- - -

U-A wouldn't only be a dream for him, but a release for you both. was it selfish to want to run away from his problems? sure, but it'd help you too.

as everyone in the class exclaimed the names of the schools they picked, unsurprised at katsuki's choice, he pondered on where you'd go.

nobody asked you, so you didn't speak. staying quiet as you looked out the window.

katsuki got accepted into U-A easily, but he couldn't help but feel he lacked the main criteria. he'd hurt people poorly, and couldn't apologize because of his ego.

he felt sick to accept these accomplishments of his, knowing it'd be built up on the foundation of hurting you.

but he did anyway, selfishly. he kept up his harsh demeanor in U-A anyways, working hard and scoring high. he graduated top of his class, job offers to agencies left and right.

he accepted one, working for his old internship officially now. he climbed the ranks quickly, saving lives and catching the attention of the media.

a couple years later, he was a steady number five hero when he took a patrol route over for deku. as he strolled through the city, stores littering the buildings, he saw someone he never thought he'd see again.

you, only now working for your mothers seamstress company. you were embroidering something on the station, hands precise and focused, not noticing him.

he had to keep moving, but.. he made a mental note to come back later.

he finished his patrol anxious, he went to sleep thinking of what he'd even say to you. 'hey sorry for ruining your life, can you forgive me?' he slapped his forehead in frustration.

he searched up basic sign language for beginners, learning a bit. he laughed at the stupid thoughts of your forgiveness that he dreamt of.

"as if i deserve it." he muttered, looking deeply at the ceiling of his room before falling asleep.

as soon as he awoke, he got dressed and prepared. he tried to look causal, as if he wasn't planning this.

he walked in, immediately greeted by your mother who congratulated him on his heroics. "well isn't that dynamite? saving the world i see."

he laughed politely. "i'll be number one soon enough."

"of course! well, what're you looking for? i'll give you a family discount, you grew up so close to [name] didn't you?"

his heart jumped into his throat.

"uh.. we did."

"you two were so adorable! she was so nervous around you, she must've had a crush on you or something!"

"i definitely don't think so."

"oh, you're just being modest." she said, hitting his arm lightly. "there she is now, go and speak to her."

"uh-- i--"

"go!" she shoved him in your direction, making you look up to see him. your lips parted in an unrecognizable expression as you saw him, the line you were working on now crooked as you were left alone together.

it's been about ten years hadn't it? ten years since he last saw you, but a lifetime he needed to apologize for.

he'd learned so much in U-A, outwardly changing his demeanor to what he always aspired to be. but all that meant nothing to you, who only experienced him at his worst.

he awkwardly raised his hand up to you, he did his best to sign while speaking, his hands shaky and unconfident. "hi [name], i'm really sorry about what happened back then."

your eyes followed the movements, your hands absentmindedly wrapping around yourself loosely, defensively.

"i know this is a lot but,

can we be friends?"

he waited anxiously for you to answer, you looking as if you were processing it.

in a grown up, yet timid voice, one that he hadn't heard since you were young, you almost whispered, signing as you did so out of reflex. "thank you, bakugo." your eyes grew watery. great, he just couldn't seem to stop making you cry.

he sat near you after getting wordless permission to, hanging onto every word you spoke, and being mindful to speak in a calm tone himself.

"i.. i'd like a friend, honestly. a new one anyways."

he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when you said that, but still, it wasn't enough.

he wanted to, no needed to make you happy. the years of torment he subjected you to couldn't be made up by anything less than years of happiness.

after a bit of small talk, him asking you questions about what you'd been up to, how your life was treating you. he zoned out a couple times, thinking of how beautiful you've become.

"what would make you happy, [name]?" he finally said, his head supported on his hand as he gazed at you, making sure to enunciate his words so you could read his lips.

"what makes you ask?"

"i-- i want to make you happy. no matter the cost, it's what you deserve."

she laughed softly at that, her eyes flickering with an indistinguishable expression. "...i always wanted to travel. around the world, to see mountains and landscapes."

"then i'll take you."

"you don't have t--"

"i do. and ill do more [name], what i did to you was-- is horrible. you know that."

"i..

okay, okay bakugo."

"katsuki."

you smiled, "katsuki."

going from having very limited contact with your only friend from high school, to having a prohero come to your shop everyday was jarring. but not unwelcomed.

he brought gifts with him everytime, learning what you'd like and not. it ranged from food to stuffed animals, flowers to accessories, all of which you really appreciated.

you grew closer, eventually starting to meet outside of your mother's shop. at the park or walking around the mall, he'd take you anywhere you wanted to go. he'd pay for everything too, despite your reluctance.

he kept his word to you, and at the end of the month he asked you to come up to his apartment.

a penthouse.

as you walked in, greeted by the shimmering atmosphere of the expensive furniture and decor all around, abstract paintings and trophies littering shelves on the walls.

you stood by the front entrance, taking off your shoes as you walked in. "katsuki?" you asked, looking around.

he came out, a tiny smile on his face. "ya made it." he had something behind his back, "come in [name]."

the apartment was huge to say the least, it becoming even bigger than it looked from the entrance. he guided you to his plush couch, sitting next to you.

"so, i know you said you dreamt of traveling, right?"

at your nod, he pulled out the tickets from behind his back. "i.. got this tickets for you. i didn't want to push it in case you didn't want me to go with you but--"

you cut him off with a hug, tackling him into the couch.

"of course i want you to come,

katsuki."

you signed his name differently than other times,

you'd finally made a name for him.

he hugged back mindfully, so excited to finally have a huge first step in the right direction.

but he still needed to make you happy. "we'll leave in two days if that's okay, i just wanted to give you time to pack."

"okay, that's good."

"do you.. want to stay?" he asked nervously, the thought had popped into his mind and out his mouth in a millisecond.

you blinked, sitting up on his legs, pondering it over.

"sure, okay."

he put on some movies for the two of you, his heart was racing at the proximity of your body to his.

the night ended with you laid on top of him, fast asleep as he was comforted by the beating of your heart against his. your chest against his, his hand in your hair as your head laid in his neck.

he woke up first, to the sight of the gold light making you look heavenly, your hair messy from how he was playing with it throughout the night. your face was almost against his, he could kiss you right now.

but he shouldn't. he would move but he didn't want to couldn't, so he looked you over. you woke up to the feeling of his fingers caressing your face, your eyes half lidded from sleep.

"'suki. g'morning."

his heart was getting used to irregularly pounding around you at this point. "[name], uh-- hi."

after a couple moments, you got off of him, much to his discontent. his hands sliding down your legs as you got up.

"i'll be going now, i gotta pack and stuff." you said, looking in one of the many mirrors scattered around as you fixed your appearance as much as you could.

he nodded. "let me walk you home at least."

and he did walk you home, hand in hand.

those two nights he spent pondering over you. he didn't know why, but hero work felt much lighter after talking it out with you. becoming your friend was one of the best things he'd achieved in years, and that was including his recent rankings.

he thought back to how he treated you as a kid, had he really just been searching for your validation all along?

is that why it hurt when you told him he'd never amount to his dreams, because he only valued your opinion?

he let himself sleep, he'd see you tomorrow. and he'd make it all right.

he woke up and picked you up at your place, his expensive sports car standing out against the comfort of the neighborhood. you walked out, dressed simply but cute, a bag of your own in hand.

he grabbed it from you and placed it in the back, opening the passenger door for you as he drove to the airport. his hand on your thigh as he did so, letting you play the music you'd like with loud bass.

it was a half hour ride in comfortable silence, he gazed at you occasionally, a thoughtful expression on your face.

on the plane, you sat by the window. it was first class so you'd get to sleep in a physical bed, in a closed room. you were treated to whatever food and drinks you wanted, hugging katsuki when you found out you where you were heading.

the flight was a long eighteen hours, but it was spent hanging out with katsuki. on his lap asking him questions about the shows you two had watched, power scaling arguments about past heroes, fights he'd recently been in.

also what you two planned to do as you were there, you wanted to go to the beaches and mountains, he just wanted to follow you.

you fell asleep together again, your face laid directly in his chest as he held you.

you woke up to katsuki tapping you on the shoulder. as you raised the volume on your aids, you heard the beeping on the intercoms that meant you'd have to go back to your seats for the landing, groggily being helped up by katsuki as he moved you to to your seats.

you sat by the windows, looking at the tropical region as you two landed, your hand still in his. the moments after we're a blur, before you knew it you were in a car being buckled up by katsuki as you were being driven to your hotel.

what you didn't know was that it was a villa, built on top of the waters of the ocean, your very own private beach right outside your doors with the mountains you'd dreamt of treking right behind you.

you'd never been so happy.

the days you'd spent started and ended all the same, you waking up and going to sleep in katsuki's arms. pretending like you didn't notice how your bed hair got worsened after he played with it all night.

the first days you'd spent at the beach, attempting and failing at surfing. your jet lag was killed off by your utter excitement.

you being thankful your aids were water resistant because of how much you loved the waters of the river and the seas.

you'd had a sandcastle competition, sunbathed, and soaked off in the hot tub of your villa together.

the trek's were fun too, katsuki was annoyingly good at everything so you'd have to fight to keep up.

your polaroid in hand as you snapped candid shots of him, turning it to yourself as you got a selfie of you two with the gorgeous rivers as background.

you jumped into those too, making katsuki freak out as you dived in to the deep waters.

you even got to the top one day, jokingly saying that you should've brought a flag to the top to celebrate. the golden hours of the sunset making you glimmer.

a moment of silence passed over you as he slowly approached you, wordlessly asking for permission as you once again put your hands in his.

you leaned in first, kissing him with the sun as witness.

"i really like you [name]." he sighed and spoke after you pulled away.

"i like you too." you replied, hugging him tightly.

the rest of your trip was filled with your firsts with katsuki.

your first official date was in the burrows of the forest, a picnic where you two painted portraits of eachother. albeit, unique portraits... but painting nonetheless.

your first moment truly loving someone, the feeling you recognized as you laid him in your lap for the first time.

your first talk about what happened all those years ago. a deep one.

"[name], before we become something um.. official. we need to talk about how i hurt you." katsuki said one day, laying faced to you but taking your hands into his.

"kats--"

"let me speak. please." after you nodded, he took a breath and began.

"i was egotistical and really insecure all those years. you were the only one who really read me, that's why i think i got so upset.

i didn't mean to hurt you, i never wanted to hurt anyone i swear-- i just hated that you were right.

that weighed over me all these years, the fact that my hero work meant nothing if i was doing it while acting so.. unheroic.

i never fully felt like a hero, not until i met you again.

not until you graced me with your friendship, your undeserved affection towards me. i just-- i really care about you. and im really sorry, ill spend the rest of my life apologizing to you, and you don't have to accept it because i don't deserve it.

i guess what i'm trying to say is..

sorry, and.. i love you [name].

you don't have to--"

he was cut off by a kiss on his lips.

it felt different somehow, he couldn't place it. almost sad in a way as you pulled back.

"i don't think you were trying to hurt me. but, you did.

and you're working to change it, i appreciate that.

i really care for you too katsuki."

the rest of your trip was comfortingly domestic, learning things about each other you'd never know.

your last week was bittersweet, having to leave your jointed paradise was a reality that saddened the both of you. but your dream was fulfilled, and so was his.

seeing that he was the cause of your smiles and not your horror, making you happy was the light of his day. no, his life.

he thinks he was born to make you happy.

the flight back was a blur, you spent it clinging to him. you started to gift him your own things over the hours, a scrunchie of yours, a bracelet for him to keep.

a locket with a photo of you two, and the polaroid you'd taken on the mountains.

"why are you giving this all to me? not that i'm complaining."

"well, you'll get more use out of it. that's all."

he scrunched his face up in confusion, but with a smile you waved off his concerns.

he wished he pushed you more.

he wished that you'd forgive him for failing you once again, as he fought to take the razor blade out of your grip, slicing your hand in the process.

you were in your bathtub, surrounded by water yet fully clothed, tears and wails wracking your body as you just wanted it to be over.

you finally relented, your blood staining his clothes and the water as he picked you up. you couldn't hear him, you'd taken out your aid.

but you could feel his sobs, his tears hitting you as you shut your eyes, embarrassed of what you'd just done.

you were rushed to the hospital and given stitches, you were to be closely watched from your mom now on, you were told by an interpreter.

katsuki's eyes were red, matching his pupils as he looked at you.

he was frustrated, you could see it in the trembling of his fists and the scowl in his mouth. if he hadn't been there.. you would be dead.

why, he asked you. and to be honest, you really couldn't explain it yourself.

when you got home to your apartment, empty and reminding of your reality away from katsuki, you just felt so..

scared. what would happen when he finally got the validation he needed and left you? your whole life was quiet and tranquil, you'd gotten used to it. but he flipped it upside down again, showed you what your life really could be.

it was too much for you. you had to escape, so after sitting on it, tapping your leg anxiously as you pondered your decision, you went on your phone.

you went online and saw his life outside of you, how he had everything going for him yet what did you really have? a mom and a job at her company?

you grew impulsive, grabbing it absentmindedly and filling up the tub with the water you grown to love over the past month.

after you started bleeding, you panicked. what had you just done? but it was too late..

until he saved you from yourself.

you were zoning out. when you didn't answer him, he repeated himself, grabbing the interpreter so you could sign.

but still you said nothing, except a small sorry.

he left afterwards, leaving you alone in the bed to think.

you were back in your childhood room now, your mom having sobbed as she looked over your hands, as she asked you, "what the hell were you thinking?"

you looked at those glow in the dark stars and tried to find an answer, but there was none.

you held yourself to sleep for the first time in months, already missing him deeply.

little did you know, he was thinking about you too.

the next morning you awoke to a knock on your bedroom door. assuming it was your mom, you got up and opened it.

it was katsuki instead, holding a bouquet of flowers and the locket you'd given him.

"can i come in?"

you opened the door wider, leading him to sit on your bed.

"katsuki i--"

"[name]. i don't know why you did what you did.. but i know it probably has something to do with me. so what did i do wrong?" he looked defeated, as if he thought it was his fault you tried to end your life.

"no! no that wasn't it at all. well, it was about you but not like that.

it's just.. i've been alone. for so long? having you around felt.. too good to be true. i didn't want to go back to how i was before. in a way, you were too good for me."

"you're.. an idiot. but i guess i understand."

"i just.. i really love how you treat me. i didn't want it to go away."

a moment of silence passes, a small anxious laugh leaving katsuki's lips.

"fuck, i thought you hated me. could barely sleep without you."

he pulled you into him, staring deeply into your eyes as he pulled you impossibly closer. he kissed you deeply. his worries, passions, and frustrations all poured out into it.

he pulled away, eyes half lidded as he asked gruffly.

"wanna take this back to my place?"

he took your last first away, gentle and loving as he guided you through it. reassuring you that he'd never leave you.

you moved in with him soon after, finding it hard to sleep without eachother, no matter how late he got back to your shared home.

he'd be welcomed back by the sight of you, who always tried and failed to stay up waiting for him. he'd pick you up, like always, and hug you to sleep.

he'd know he woke you up by the feeling of your smile in his chest, the way you tightened you arms around him.

he loved spending every waking moment he could with you. you were right though, he did break up with you after he got your validation.

...

but that's just an odd way to say he proposed to you, vowing to spend the rest of his life making you happy and fufiling your wishes one by one.

he changed not only himself, but the way you see yourself. he changed your relationships with yourselves and eachother for the better,

and as you walked down the aisle, your wedding planned by your two designer parents, being lavish and gorgeous. the silk on the floor being runway to your expensive shoes specially designed for you, the guests in awe of how gorgeous you are.

you both knew, you'd better eachother for better or for worse, for as long as you'd be together.

he signed 'i do', sealing the rest of your lives together,

with a kiss.

[ivorivet]

Fellowship Cloak Weaving Draft

Hi all! I've been kind of quiet on this blog, but I have something really exciting to share today: after six years, I FINALLY figured out the weaving draft for the Fellowship cloaks from Lord of the Rings.

This is a problem I've been trying to figure out since shortly after I made my Legolas cosplay in 2018. The cloaks that the nine members of the Fellowship receive in Lothlórien look like a nondescript gray fabric from far away, but zoom in and you'll see a very complex pattern of horizontal and vertical bars of dark gray and white.

(First image from Alleycatscratch, second is a photo of the scarf of the same fabric I bought from Stansborough where I was attempting to trace the pattern repeat with orange thread)

This is going to be a long post, so I'm just going to lead with the completed draft:

Imagine me Will Smith wife posing at this for the last 24 hours.

It's got the correct size of pattern repeat! It's got the five individual ripples! It's got that dumb little pattern break in the middle that breaks up the center of the leaf motif! I am OVER THE MOON about figuring this out, especially starting out with very little knowledge about weaving drafts in general. More ramblings about this type of draft and my thought process below:

This particular pattern is known as "shadow weave," a subset of color-and-weave where the pattern is created from the interplay of different warp and weft colors plus the weaving draft itself. To get an idea of how that works, let's start by looking at plain weave in one color:

The solid purple bar at the top indicates the color of the warp threads, and the solid purple bar at the right indicates the color of the weft threads. So far we've got our basic under-over-under-over pattern in a single, solid color (purple). But what if we add an additional color (green) to the warp, and alternate those colors? Then we'd get a speckled fabric like this:

The visual effect looks pretty much identical regardless of if you start with green or purple. However, if you also alternate purple and green in the weft, it produces a very different effect depending on if you start with purple or green (note the differences in the bar on the right):

So cool, now we can make either vertical or horizontal stripes! If you double up on the colored threads in some areas, you can even flip between the two and start dividing the fabric into "blocks," like so:

Note that with all these changes, the only thing we've been doing is changing the order of the colors in the warp and weft. The actual weave structure itself is still just regular ol' plain weave. The pattern that we've created in the pictures above is called "log cabin," which you can read about here. But similar effects can be created by skipping shafts/picks in the weaving draft as well. So how do we get from log cabin into the more complicated and general category of shadow weave?

It's weird to describe how to convert a given pattern into shadow weave. There are multiple very good books with chapters on shadow weave as well as books entirely dedicated to it. Despite my best efforts, all these explanations still got so technical so fast it feels like, to me at least, asking a 6 year old to recite an entire Shakespeare play verbatim immediately after confirming that they can, in fact, sing the alphabet song. So I'm going to give my best shot at explaining it, and if it doesn't make sense, just blame it on me and check out some of the linked books above if you're really curious.

Think of shadow weave as a beauty filter for a black and white drawing. If you create a pattern out of black and white blocks/pixels/whatever, the shadow weave "filter" can be applied to it to create a similar pattern that preserves the shapes in the original, but makes them out of vertical/horizontal lines instead of solid color blocks. So in some of these books you'll find mention of converting a twill or an overshot pattern into shadow weave - that's what this is referencing. The original pattern (usually designated with light yarn) gets a secondary shadow pattern (in dark yarn) inserted into in between every other thread (also called an "end" when referencing warp yarns).

I got stuck at this point for literal years. I could find examples of weaving drafts using shadow weave, but couldn't figure out how to generate ones of my own. I imported some of the drafts I found in books into weaving software and poked around to see if I could push the patterns in the direction I wanted by changing individual elements. My experiments in changing individual warp ends and weft picks always ended up looking like stretched or compressed versions of the original pattern (when I was being careful), or incomprehensible garbage (when I was being daring). I even bought a sample of the fabric from Stansborough in the form of a scarf, thinking I could brute force it by using a magnifying glass to figure out the interlacements. I was able to figure out how large the pattern repeat was (approximately 160 x 80 ends), but otherwise I got nothing but eye strain. I ended up tabling the project and coming back to it every couple years, banging my head against it until I gave up.

Until one day last week when I was flipping through the Strickler book and saw this page:

And I was like

HOLD UP

IT'S HER

...or at least a close cousin of her. BUT IT WAS A START.

So the first step was to identify what about this pattern needed to change in order to make this look like the Fellowship cloak. Overall, the main differences were:

Pattern repeat on Strickler 304 was too small - it was 42 x 42 ends and I needed it to be somewhere in the ballpark of 80 x 80 before altering the repeat.

The Fellowship pattern has a weird vertical dividing line that runs down the middle of the leaf motif, effectively doubling the width of the repeat by creating two similar looking but different leaves. This was the change I was least concerned about, as flipping between vertical and horizontal lines is pretty a straightforward process as shown above with the log cabin draft.

Strickler 304 also has a different number of waves (peaks and valleys, or whatever you want to call them) compared to the Fellowship pattern. There are 3 waves in Strickler and 5 in Fellowship. Figuring out how to add these extra waves was the biggest obstacle for me to address.

And finally, a couple of things I didn't need to care about for the weaving draft: 1) the Fellowship pattern is elongated in the warp direction, but this has more to do with a little extra spacing between weft picks as compared to the warp threads. When weaving this you'd just need to make sure you don't beat it very hard and you'll get that tall rectangle shape instead of a square repeat. 2) Both patterns have mirrored symmetry around a diagonal line drawn through the center, meaning that for treadling I could "tromp as writ" or basically just mirror the threading diagram to get the treadling instructions. For reasons I can't figure out, the Strickler pattern isn't exactly tromp as writ but looks close enough to it that the effect is still there. But I don't really care enough to figure out why - the important thing is that it gives us a threading diagram to start with!

So to start with, here's what Strickler 304 looks like in my weaving software:

(By the way, this is Fiberworks PCW Bronze. The trial version is free, and the only difference between that and the paid version is that the save/print options are disabled. I'm not sure they know about screenshots, bless their hearts.)

This is a design for 8 shafts and 8 treadles, thus the 8x8 square in the upper right corner. And you can see in the threading diagram (upper horizontal bar) and treadling diagram (right bar) that the curvature of the waves takes a similar shape to the curves of the final pattern. We just have to figure out why. And since I had already tried changing individual warp ends and treadling patterns without much success, I needed to approach in a different way.

What ended up helping me see the forest for the trees was de-shadowifying the pattern. It's relatively easy to get the black-and-white version of the pattern from the threading draft - you just need to delete the shadow, which means removing every other warp end. This is what deleting all the dark ends from the warp and light ends from the weft looks like:

We can also see with a little more detail how the threading diagram is similar to the curve in the pattern. The pattern is 21 pixels tall, but it's been chopped up to repeat over 8 shafts, like so:

OKAY COOL COOL COOL. EVERYTHING'S COMIN' UP MILHOUSE IVORIVET. From this green squiggly line we know two things:

The final number of warp ends in the shadow weave pattern is double whatever the height of the squiggle is. In the case of the Strickler pattern, we're going from 21 to 42. Since we know that we need our final height for the Fellowship pattern needs to be 80, the squiggle for that pattern needs to be around 40 pixels tall.

We needed to stitch three repeats of the Strickler threading diagram together in order to see the full squiggle. How many waves does the Strickler pattern have? Three. How many waves does the Fellowship pattern need? Five. How many shafts do we have to work on? Eight. What is 5 x 8? 40!!!

So how about we make a NEW squiggle, only 40 pixels high instead of 21? (We're gonna drop the pixels in blue, since threading diagrams won't work if you put a single end through two shafts.)

Next, we're going to chop up that squiggle and use it to create a new threading diagram in Fiberworks. I'm also using "tromp as writ" here to create the treadling pattern.

LOOK AT THAT. IT'S GOT MORE WAVES!! FIVE OF THEM!

And then we add back in the shadow by creating a space for a new end between each existing end:

And then add in the shadow. I'm using 4 as my number for the shadow offset since we're using 8 shafts. So shaft 1 shadows to shaft 5, shaft 2 shadows to shaft 6, etc.

And we're going to apply tromp as writ again to get:

AYYYYYY WE'RE GETTING CLOSE! I'm fairly certain that the reason why the Strickler treadling wasn't exactly tromp as writ had something to do with centering the pattern repeat a little more than this, but I don't really care about that so I'm going to leave this treadling the way that it is.

From here out, we need at add that weird vertical dividing line that chops up the center of the leaves. So we double the pattern repeat along the horizontal axis, and offset a 40 pixel section in the middle of the threading diagram by 1 pixel. I've also colored in the differences between the dark and light ends to help differentiate the original and shadowed curves a little bit more. (I also tried offsetting the colors of the warp ends by 1 as well like what we did in the log cabin example, but I ended up liking the way that this looked more.)

THERE SHE IS!!! MY PRECIOUS!!

From here on out, there is still a ton of work I need to do if I actually want to weave this cloak from scratch. I did buy roving in quantities that could be used to spin both the dark and light yarn (dark gray Gotland for the dark yarn, and dove gray merino + white alpaca for the light yarn), but there's still the matter of, like, handspinning a cloak's quantity of extremely fine yarn. I did start spinning the Gotland several years ago as fine as I could possibly manage, and got through maybe 20 ounces of it. However, I'm a much better spinner now and I'm not sure if the my skeins from several years ago would be suitable for weaving, or if it would be worth replicating what I did back then vs. just starting over with a new standard. There's also the possibility of just... buying weaving yarn if I want to skip that step, which would definitely save me a significant amount of time.

Anyway, thanks for reading this far and I hope it helped break down why this was so exciting for me!

[ram-bles]

Headcanons with Daisuke and Shy Reader? Thanks if you do :)

daisuke x shy!reader headcanons

[ requests/inbox: open ]

oh boy changing the mood with this one

fluff, gender neutral reader

⚠️ dude/bro used but in a gender neutral way lol

Sorry this took so long! I had to rewrite more than half of this since I forgot to save as draft the last time 😭

🌺 The first you've seen him was while processing your papers for the internship. He was busy double checking his own papers on his way out so he didn't notice you. The first time he sees you, was during the Tulpar boarding.

🌺 To no surprise, he approaches and greets you first, rambling on about how totally excited he was to work with you and the whole crew. You shook his hand with an awkward smile as you exchanged introductions.

Once the captain had given you both an overview of what you guys might do while on board, he immediately turns to you, jutting his hand out for a handshake. "Heya! I'm Daisuke!" You swore you were blinded by how bright this man smiled at you. "Dude, I'm like so so glad you're here. Everyone else here besides Cap' seems so— yeesh. Gloomy." You realized you've almost left him hanging and you almost dropped your bag trying to shake his hand. He laughs and you felt your face warm up in embarrassment. He switches topic immediately. "What's your name? What uni you from? - oh! What college are you in?"

🌺 You wouldn't notice it until later on that you'd often trail behind Daisuke, especially when you don't know what you're doing or how to help (he doesn't know how as well but he pretends he does).

🌺 Assuming that the rooms are very limited and can house two members per room (bunk bed icon by Curly's quarters door), you two got paired up since Swansea didn't want to be in the same room as Daisuke did.

🌺 A coin had to be flipped for the top bunk since Daisuke kept on insisting that you take it but you were also insisting that he takes it.

🌺 Even before the crash, he's either on his gameboy, magazines, or his iconic pink dumbbells when you guys have the free time.

🌺 Once comfortable enough, you two were inseparable. Always together by the hip outside intern work. The top bunk was useless since you'd both end up chilling at the same place, either sprawled against each other or claiming territories at each end of the bed doing whatever hobbies you two were into.

"Bro, you're kicking my faaaace. I can't see what I'm reading." You whined and tried pushing his leg away since you were scanning through one of the magazines he brought and he gives you a mischievous stare. "Daisuke, no." "Daisuke, yes." He pauses his game and throws it to the side, yanking your leg as you squealed and flailed around. You lose. But you both end up laughing as he locked you to his side, giving you a noogie, not long until Swansea busts in to scold you two for being too rowdy.

[might make a one-shot of this if you guys are interested?]

🌺 Hey, even if you guys are that close already and you don't chat as much, he'll be the one doing it for the both of you. I don't make the rules.

🌺 If you have inquiries with the other members, he accompanies you and asks the questions for you.

🌺 Daisuke pretty much drags you with him for whatever shenanigans he's up to. Don't worry, he takes the blame if you guys get caught and makes sure they think you're uninvolved.

[david-talks-sw]

Note: The meta below wasn't written by me, it was sent to me as an Ask by an anonymous user. It was so good that sharing it without adding some images I had lying around and extra formatting (boldening/italics) to it would've been criminal, so that's my only contributions. Thank you anon, and enjoy the read folks :)

What more could the Jedi have done?

I think a lot of the discourse about the "Jedi being slavers" comes from a deliberately uncharitable and bad faith reading of them.

I agree with you that TCW raises these questions and chooses not to go through with addressing them because it is ultimately a kids show that isn't trying to tell a story about the clones' situation but about [the Clone War itself].

But whenever I see people choose to go into these deeper ethical debates, they almost always assign an unfairly disproportionate amount of blame onto the Jedi who are, for the most part, in the same boat as the clones. Even the clones themselves seem to understand the nuance of the situation and most are grateful to the Jedi for coming in and leading them.

Although, yes, the clones do have it much, much worse, the Jedi are still there, fighting, protecting and dying right alongside them.

The Jedi are blamed for being part of the Republic in spite of all its issues, far more than the Senate is for being the Republic, even though the Senate is the one with all the power.

I wonder what it is people wanted the Jedi to even do for the clones...

OPTION 1: Leave the Republic?

And let the Separatists (whose originally legitimate grievances have been hijacked by the Sith) freely commit mass atrocities and enslave other planets with their humongous droid army?

OPTION 2: Overthrow the Republic?

And then what?

Take control of the Senate and become literal dictators and the very things they sought to destroy?

And during this whole takeover process, does the Separatist army just magically pause committing its mass atrocities?

So in the middle of a galactic war, the Jedi, with their limited numbers and resources, decide to start another one against the Republic to free the clones and ignore all the other planets getting destroyed and enslaved, and then...? [Also] the Republic citizens were largely unwilling to fight their own battles and preferred to leave all the fighting to the Jedi and the clones. So, now:

Do [the Jedi] force their new "Republic" to make its own army to fight the Separatists? Do they enforce a draft on the "natborns"?

All of this ⬆️ is premised on the Jedi even being willing to throw away their democratic values, and on the clones even WANTING THEM TO DO SO. Yes the clones are in a terrible situation, but the harsh truth is that, canonically, they do share the same values as the Jedi.

People can argue that they're brainwashed into this, and I would even agree. But that doesn't make it any less true that these are still their values. Most of them want to fight for the Republic.

They should have the choice available to pursue another path if they wanted, but the show - and thus the clones and the Jedi - barely have the time to consider all these issues because they are in the middle of a war.

In the show, [the clones] are the conveniently available highly-trained army that the Republic was going to use with or without the Jedi because it was all a trap set by a Sith Lord.

The Jedi, who were supposed to be some hybrid of social workers, peace-keepers and diplomats, were drafted into a war they did not want, and did not fight [the draft] because they had made an oath to the Republic, and because the alternative was letting billions get killed.

They were between a rock and a hard place and chose to prioritize trying to end the immediate war first before fighting for the rights of the clone army (which - again - is not even their job! Padme, Mon Mothma and Bail and all the other politicians are RIGHT THERE!)

The Jedi were a minority religious order whose own situation in the Republic was precarious, as evidenced by the fact that the citizens were willing to cheerlead their genocide just a couple of years in and gleefully bought into anti-Jedi propaganda en masse.

A more charitable reading of the Jedi would take all this ⬆️ context into account before declaring them slavers/slavery-enablers and surmise that... no, they did not agree with how the Republic was treating the clone army.

They were most likely hoping the Senate would enact a democratic solution to this after the war, so they tried to end the war as quickly as they could.

And no, they didn't "selfishly decide to overthrow/kill Palps just because they found out the Chancellor was their religious enemy when they were unwilling to do so for the clones."

It was because they realised that - all this time - they had all been under the control of a Sith Lord who had orchestrated a sham war to destroy them and take power for himself.

[reveryfics]

Tequila

James "Logan" Howlett x Male Reader

Summary: Logan sees you in a bar for the first time in over twenty years.

A/N: I have three requests in my drafts, however since they're all Scott Lang I'll upload them after doing some others. Requests open.

Tw: Slight angst - Alcohol - Smoking - Very soft smut

The music, a soft, almost mournful hum, seeped through the thick, smoky air of the bar, a fragile melody battling the raucous surge of patrons. The night deepened, and the air grew heavy, saturated with the cloying sweetness of spilled alcohol, the acrid tang of sweat, a cocktail of scents clinging to every surface, every breath. Yet, it was a comfort, a grim familiarity Logan had grown accustomed to, a worn blanket against the chill of his solitude.

The tequila, a thin, shimmering film on his lips, was a constant, unwelcome reminder. It wasn't his drink, never had been. It was yours. A bitter, burning echo of a shared past, a phantom taste of a connection forged in the crucible of shared suffering. You, another survivor, another experiment, a fragile victory against the horrors they inflicted. Perhaps that was the thread that bound you, a shared understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the scars you both carried. Or perhaps, it was something deeper, a sense of belonging he’d never found elsewhere, a warmth that defied the icy grip of his isolation.

Every searing sip of tequila conjured your image, a vivid, painful resurrection. He could see the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed, hear the lilt of your voice, a melody now faded but etched into his soul. He could feel the ghost of your skin against his, the way his worn leather coat, now a hollow shell, had draped perfectly over your frame. He could hear you say his name, a whispered caress in the chaos of a world that had tried to steal it from him.

He remembered the raw, desperate need, the consuming ache of your absence, a void that yawned wider with each passing day. He tried, desperately, to fill the emptiness, to convince himself he could find solace in another's touch, in the echo of your favorite songs, but every attempt was a cruel mockery, a stark reminder of what he had lost.

He blamed himself, a relentless, gnawing guilt. He replayed every moment, every decision, searching for a different outcome, a way to have saved you. He told himself he hadn’t been strong enough, hadn’t been vigilant enough. But deep down, a chilling truth whispered in the shadows of his mind: no matter what he did, fate had already sealed your end.

Your memory, once so vibrant, so alive, was now a fading photograph, blurred at the edges, the colors muted. He clung to it, desperate to preserve the fragments, to keep you alive in the desolate landscape of his heart.

The sharp, metallic ding of the bell, announcing a new arrival, cut through the haze of his grief. He kept his head bowed, listening to the rhythmic tap of boots against the worn wooden floor, the sound growing closer, then halting just a few feet away.

A faint, familiar scent drifted towards him, a wisp of cigar smoke mingling with the sweet, earthy aroma of palo santo. He dismissed it, a fleeting hallucination, a cruel trick of his senses. He’d been nursing his own cigar all night, its smoke a thin veil against the suffocating loneliness. But then, he heard your voice, a whisper, a ghost of a sound that sent a jolt of electricity through his veins.

His head snapped up, his eyes scanning the crowded bar, desperate, searching. And then, he saw it: the worn leather jacket, the same one he had given you, years ago.

His body moved before his mind could process, pushing through the throng of bodies, a desperate, frantic surge towards the impossible. He stood before you, his heart pounding against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of his grief.

Everything about you was the same: the familiar curve of your cheek, the spark of hope in your eyes, the lilt of your voice, a sound he had thought lost forever. But then, the memories crashed over him, a tidal wave of anguish: your body, broken and still, lying on the cold, unforgiving ground, your blood a dark stain against the earth, the defiant, almost joyful smile on your face as you gazed at the sky. Your final words, a promise whispered through a veil of blood, "See you soon," echoing in the hollow chambers of his heart.

"Bubs?" he whispered, his voice a raw, broken sound. He didn’t expect a response, didn’t dare to hope. He was simply speaking to a ghost, a figment of his tequila-soaked memories.

But then, you turned, your eyes widening, disbelief and a flicker of recognition warring within them. You looked at him, a silent question hanging in the air.

"James?" you whispered, your voice trembling, a fragile echo of the past.

He didn't hesitate. He wrapped his arms around you, a desperate, clinging embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the familiar scent of your skin, the scent he had carried with him through years of grief.

It was you. It was really you. Not a phantom, not a hallucination, but you, solid and real, back from the dead. "It's me, bubs," he whispered, his voice thick with tears, a desperate, joyful sob escaping his lips.

The embrace lingered, a silent testament to the impossible. Logan's hands, trembling slightly, traced the familiar contours of your back, as if confirming your reality. He pulled back, his eyes searching yours, a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy swirling within them. "How?" he breathed, his voice hoarse, a whisper lost in the din of the bar. "I saw you… I saw…"

You placed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "It's a long story, bubs. One I'll tell you, but not here." Your eyes, brimming with unspoken emotions, held a silent promise.

The conversation flowed, a torrent of whispered questions and hushed answers, a rekindling of a flame thought extinguished. Time seemed to warp and bend, the cacophony of the bar fading into a distant hum as you two became lost in the rediscovery of each other.

"Come with me," you murmured, your hand finding his, your touch sending a familiar warmth through his veins. "I have… a place."

Your apartment was a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos of the bar, a small, dimly lit space, worn and faded, yet filled with a quiet intimacy. It was a reflection of survival, a testament to the resilience you both shared. The air hung heavy with unspoken words, with the weight of years lost and the fragile hope of a future found.

The kiss was inevitable, a collision of longing and relief, a desperate, hungry claiming of what had been lost. It was a kiss that spoke of grief and resurrection, of a love that had defied death itself. Logan's hands cupped your face, his thumbs tracing the delicate curve of your cheekbones, as if memorizing every detail.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, the words a raw, vulnerable offering. "God, I love you. I dreamed of just one more night, just one more touch…"

"I'm here now," you murmured against his lips, your voice a soothing balm to his wounded soul.

The urgency was palpable, a desperate need to bridge the chasm of time and loss. Logan's hands moved with a feverish intensity, undressing you both, his touch reverent, almost worshipful, as he explored the familiar landscape of your body. He kissed every inch of your skin, a silent apology for the years of absence, a celebration of your return.

The lovemaking was a tempest of raw emotion, a fusion of grief and joy, a desperate claiming of life in the face of death. It was a dance of bodies and souls, a symphony of whispered words and ragged breaths. Logan's touch was both tender and fierce, a testament to the depth of his longing, to the fear of losing you again. You responded in kind, your body moving with a desperate, yearning grace, your voice a soft litany of his name.

"I missed you," he groaned, his voice thick with emotion, his body moving against yours with a desperate rhythm.

"I missed you too," you whispered back, your voice a soft echo of his own.

Afterwards, you lay nestled against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you, a protective embrace. The silence was comfortable, filled with the quiet contentment of shared intimacy. You traced the lines of his chest with your fingertips, a silent exploration of the familiar terrain.

"Remember that night," you murmured, a soft smile playing on your lips, "when we danced in the rain, and your coat was soaked through?"

"And you laughed at me," he chuckled, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "Said I looked like a drowned rat."

"You did," you teased, your laughter a soft, melodic sound.

The memories flowed, a tapestry of shared moments, of laughter and tears, of a love that had defied the odds. The past was a part of them, a foundation upon which they would build their future. They were ready to move forward, to embrace the here and now, to rewrite their story, together.

[foodfightnovelization]

ROTTEN: Behind The Foodfight

Holy chips! It's an exciting time to be a Foodfight! fan, because ROTTEN: Behind The Foodfight is finally out! This really is THE definitive documentary on the insanity behind the movie, and it finally answers the question of just what was going on behind the scenes during production. Since I helped out with research (and I even get a short line of dialogue at 45:19) I've already seen everything that was shown off, but had to keep quiet until all the interviews were conducted and the documentary was finished. But now it's out and everything has been made public, the cat's out of the bag (the Fat Cat Burglar?) and I can talk about all the production material that's been shared.

Before I get into any of that though, I'd highly recommend you watch the documentary for yourself. It's insanely well researched and put together, and having worked together with Ziggy Cashmere (the documentary's creator) I know how hard he dedicated himself towards making this all possible. If it weren't for him, the most interesting Foodfight! discovery would've been finding the novelization, and we would have never gotten any real insight into how this movie came to be. It's also a documentary that really speaks for itself- I don't want to say too much about what it reveals since it's all expressed far better through its narrative and the interviews with people who actually worked on the project. My favorite is the interview with texture artist Mona Weiss- she tells such horrifying stories about how she was treated by Larry and other crewmembers, yet does it all with a sense of humor that makes it clear she's enjoying getting to talk about her crazy experiences. It's clear Foodfight! was an unmitigated disaster from start to finish, and there's nobody to blame for that but Larry Kasanoff himself. The movie was rotten from the top down and despite the countless talented animators and artists working on it, nothing could fix the fact that it was fundamentally mismanaged in the worst way possible. I think the quote from producer George Johnsen summarizes it best: "Foodfight! was a good idea that unfortunately lost its way during production. The technology, the art, and the direction were not in sync. Many very talented people gave their all to make the picture, but more understanding of process from the top was needed for it to succeed."

But if you saw the documentary, you already know all that, right? So instead, let's talk about the behind-the-scenes material that's finally been shared! You can find everything I'll talking about HERE on archive.org-

It's worth following the link and checking it out for yourself- there's so much it'd impossible to discuss everything. Artwork, storyboards, bloopers, models, a nude render of Lady X, an interview with Larry Kasanoff, the list goes on and it's still being updated! Despite the documentary already being out, people who worked on the movie are continuing to share new material! It's pretty incredible- for the past year I've ran this blog all I've really had to discuss are two tie-in books, and now there's so much Foodfight! material I can't even keep up with it.

I mean LOOK at all this, isn't it fantastic? The character art by Jim George showing off just how much better these designs originally were, the countless environments showing off just how stunning Marketropolis could've looked as well as the strength of the core idea "what if a supermarket came to life at night", and insanely detailed storyboards for a 7-minute pitch reel that was used to sell the movie to investors. Normally, I'd be ALL OVER this because it's all just incredible, but there's something far, FAR more fascinating than any of it.

There are even multiple drafts of the script (one from 2005 and one from 2007 respectively) and normally I'd be insanely fascinated by those too, making extremely detailed posts explaining the differences between the drafts and how they compare to the novelization, but there's something else that was found that blows ALL of this out of the water and is easily one of the most monumental lost media discoveries of ALL TIME.

That's right, a rough cut of the ENTIRE movie from 2005 has been found, containing nearly ALL the completed animation from earlier on in production. I mean, that's mindblowing right? We first got sent this around a month ago, a little while before the documentary came out, and I literally stopped everything I was doing at work to just sit and watch this. This is the closest we're ever going to get to the "original" version of Foodfight! after all- only 7 minutes of footage was ever actually made before they switched to mocap, made solely for the aforementioned pitch reel, and this workprint contains practically all of it! On top of that there are some great storyboards in here, as well as some truly hilarious ones cobbled together from 3D renders, and the plot is far better than what we ended up with, a lot of the more inappropriate jokes being absent. This rough cut is actually pretty similar to the novelization in that regard, and it also contains scenes that we'd previously only read about in there.

For example, in the novelization there's a snowmobile chase through the mountains, with Brand X soldiers on snowmobiles and a heavy avalanche close behind. This scene was completely left out of the movie itself, but in this workprint it's here! ALL the previously novelization-exclusive scenes are included, and this rough cut is seemingly based on an even earlier draft of the script than that- here Brand X are still defeated by a flood, whereas by the time of the novelization it'd been changed to a lightning storm. There are SO many exciting differences in this workprint, the snippets of original animation we get to see are SO good, and it's SO much better than the movie itself that I think it by far deserves the crown as the DEFINITIVE version of Foodfight! There's so much in it I want to discuss, that there's no way I can fit it all into this one post...so stay tuned, because in the next few days I'll be doing a FULL analysis of the 2005 workprint, pointing out all the extra brand mascots not in the finished film, and generally just gushing about how amazing it is.

I mean, this is it. Just take it all in for a second- the original footage was considered lost media for over a decade, and now it's practically been found in its entirety, embedded in an early cut of the whole movie...isn't that just phenomenal? All the mysteries have been unraveled, all the questions have been answered, and now we can relax, take a deep breath, and watch Foodfight!...the REAL Foodfight! Make sure to enjoy it, and join me next time for my analysis!

[salaimoi]

𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 — 𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝒆𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉

[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒔𝒚𝒑𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔] after his wife’s death, you became toji fushiguro’s only reliant shoulder. however, unbeknownst to you, your deceased friend’s ex-husband had ulterior motives in mind when he began to pursue you.

[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆] angst

[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒘𝒄] 2.k

[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔] yellow is reader’s pov, blue is toji’s pov. it might sound repetitive and rushed bc i just wanted to get this out of my drafts. i know billie’s song came out like ages ago so it wouldn’t make sense to release this any later than it already is

𓂃 ོ𓂃 Things fall apart, and time breaks your heart. I wasn't there, but I know.

toji always reassured you a million times; he wasn’t heartbroken over his split with his ex-wife, not in the slightest. he rarely opened up about his past, let alone his previous relationships. and yet, deep down, you knew he hadn’t properly processed their rupture.

the most he ever disclosed to you was the fact that there was nothing left to salvage in his old relationship — so he moved on, and so did she. 

but was that the entire truth? 

you noticed the prolonged glances he would take when opening his wallet. the empty look behind his eyes when he stared down at his naked ring finger. even the faint sniffling at night that he tried convincing you were nothing more than allergies. but you knew he was silently mourning her. 

her – the real love of his life.

She was my girl. I showed her the world, but fell out of love and we both let go. ⋆࿐

i made it my life goal to tend to her happiness. the only reason for my very existence was to see that she had everything she could ever want. hell, that’s the only thing i’ve ever been good at.

i never kept anything from her — except my line of work. i couldn’t bring myself to tell her the man she fell in love with was a deadbeat mercenary who bathed in the blood of others for a living. as much as i tried to protect her from that side of my life, she eventually went digging her nose where it wasn’t needed. 

the aftermath of her discovering the truth about my hidden agenda came at the price of our relationship. 

she couldn’t withstand the constant pain of being by my side any longer, to turn in bed only to see a bastard by her side. she wholeheartedly believed that the man that now stood before her was no longer the one she fell in love with. 

somehow i didn’t blame her.

She was cryin’ on my shoulder. All I could do was hold her.

i still remember it so vividly — how her body trembled against mine like a leaf. tears coursed down her cheeks as she clung to me like a lifeline, seeking comfort in the midst of her anguish. as selfish as it may sound, the weight of her sorrow became almost too much to bear. 

i couldn't offer excuses or apologies; these were empty gestures that wouldn't alleviate the agony she felt at that moment. instead, i stood there, silently holding her, offering my presence as the only comfort.

the guilt washed over me in waves as i cradled her, feeling her heart shatter a little more with each sob. i knew i was the cause of her pain, yet i couldn’t tell her the whole truth. all i could do was hold her, wishing i could undo the past.

𓂃 ོ𓂃 Only made us closer until July.

the moment he began pursuing you when enough time had gone by, it immediately felt wrong. he was your friend’s ex-husband, after all. toji had never looked at you twice before, and now, he suddenly had lustful eyes for you? 

you eventually conceded because you wanted to be there for him, giving him the benefit of the doubt that he had no ulterior motives. but one way or another, every conversation at dinner circled back to her. 

“oh she loved mashed potatoes.” 

“fun fact, she had a strawberry allergy.” 

“did you know this brand of vanilla ice cream was her favorite?”

and as much as it pained you, you became a reliant ear for him — someone who would listen to all the little details he swore he had forgotten the day she divorced him. even if every bone in your body wanted to run in the opposite direction, far, far away from him, you stayed. 

maybe all he needs is time, you told yourself.

right?

Now I know that you love me. You don't need to remind me. I should put it all behind me, shouldn't I? ⋆࿐

your affection always remained a constant in my turbulent world, like a gentle rain that falls softly even amidst the storm. but the longer the internal storm went on, the more ravenous the regret and guilt raged on. i found myself unable to fully comprehend the depth of your love for me, but deep down, i knew that your love was unwavering. 

i knew that in order to truly move on, i had to let go of the past and embrace the present; you represented that fresh start i so urgently needed. but the thought of her still lingered, a constant reminder of what once was but should no longer be. it was as if i was being consumed by my own memories, unable to break free. as if a part of me still longed for the past. 

the weight of my conflicting emotions burdened my every waking moment, leading me to push you away with no explanation. feelings for the both of you coexisted, and i couldn't fully commit to one without betraying the other. every time i looked at you, guilt would wash over me for putting you through this hell.

 likewise, every time i looked at her picture, i felt like a traitor for ever moving on as soon as i did.

But I see her in the back of my mind all the time. Just like a fever, like I’m burning alive, like a sign. ⋆࿐

beneath the mask of indifference, i was plagued by shame. it was hard to accept that the girl who once consumed my thoughts was no longer part of my life, and looking at you, i realized that your love knew no bounds; that wasn’t enough for me. 

i hadn’t stopped loving her. 

it felt like a fever that never broke. an unrelenting heat that burned deep inside me, reminding me of the girl who dwelled in the back of my mind all those years ago.

every word about my past, every little detail about my ex, felt like a confession at church – a church where my sins would be revealed to the world. 

talking about my past wouldn’t magically absolve me of my past, now would it? redemption was never an option for me, and i wasn’t asking for it. instead of trying to cleanse myself of my history, i decided to leave it all behind like a forgotten box in an attic. 

𓂃 ོ𓂃 Well, good things don't last, and life moves so fast. I'd never ask who was better 'cause she couldn't be more different from me.

he told you to let it go — to let it die like she did that fateful day. it was no use keeping her memory alive, he said, but if that was the case, why did he take her last name months later? 

not to mention they spent years together — even conceived a child together; a child he named after her, but that detail never seemed to make its way to you. 

everyone told you to stop comparing yourself, but how could you not? she was everything you weren’t even after death: soft spoken, graceful, gentle, patient, loving. 

you didn’t dare ask such a redundant question so you didn’t voice it, but your continuous comparison to her was eating you alive; toji noticed it. you hadn’t slept with him in almost a month, internally afraid he’ll blurt out her name instead of yours.

𓂃 ོ𓂃 And I know that you love me. you don't need to remind me.

he went out of his way to send more ‘i love u’ messages than before; they seemed forced, just like your relationship. 

she had previously informed you of things that found their way to the most profound recesses of your mind. you didn’t flinch at the time, because you were mesmerized that he did such things for her, but it affected you later on. 

you learned bitter truths that made you doubt his love for you. and when you finally realized he didn’t do any of the things she spoke of, it dawned on you; toji didn’t love you. 

not like he loved her. 

𓂃 ོ𓂃 You say no one knows you so well but every time you touch me, I just wonder how she felt.

you’d stay up late at night countless times wondering what toji’s affectionate touch actually felt like. it was something only she ever knew, and you’d do anything to get a semblance of that feeling. 

but it was obvious no one knows the real him — not like she did.

despite everything, you decided to give this relationship one last try by booking a hotel for the both of you. everything inside you screamed that it was a horrible idea, but you did it anyway.

𓂃 ོ𓂃 Valentine's Day, cryin’ in the hotel. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, so I kept it to myself.

and he finally did it. he mistakenly blurted out her name on the most romantic day of the year. 

“i-i’m sorry.” toji rushed to apologize, grabbing a hold of your arm so you wouldn’t walk out the door.

“I wonder, do you see HER in the back of your mind, in my eyes!?” was the only thing you could force yourself to reply in that moment, breaking away from his grip in the process.  

“i do,” toji dejectedly admits with a hint of sorrow behind his voice. or was it indignity?

he pauses, absentmindedly digging his nails into the tender flesh of his balled up fist as he grapples with his conscience. all along, he knew the day to finally hold himself accountable would come, but he didn’t think it would’ve been like this. 

his mind involuntarily wandered, and in the depths of your gaze, he saw glimpses of his deceased wife — a ghost that lingered in the back of his subconscious even after all this time.  

memories of her flood his mind, and for a brief moment, the both of you merge into one — his past and present colliding into one. the familiar shade of your irises, the identical shine behind them, the bright glimmer of light behind them when you smiled — all of it brought a pang of bittersweet nostalgia to him. 

silence overtook the room like a storm, and with it, your heart. so he does see a reflection of his dead wife when he stares into your eyes — the eyes he promised captivated him to no bounds. 

“was all of it a lie, then?” 

“no.” 

“how was it not a lie, toji?”

“it wasn’t a lie, doll-“ 

“don’t call me that.” you interrupt him with words almost sharp enough to cut him, a slight tremble behind your voice. 

tears immediately welled up in the delicate corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. his expression softened at the sight; however, his reluctance to approach you remained. he knew he was the reason behind your hurt, just like he was the cause of hers all that time ago. history does indeed repeat itself, doesn’t it? 

he wished he could find the words that would help ease your pain — the exhaustion and heartache you felt. to take it all away with a mere sentence, that would be quite incredible. but that’s not how life works.

“okay.” he finally whispered, inhaling a deep breath in a mix of defeat and remorse before continuing. “i promise none of it was a lie; i meant every word. i really meant it when i said i adored your eyes…” 

he dry swallows a couple of times, as if doing so would suppress the sorrow lodged in his throat. his eyes darted around the room, as to not meet your own out of the unbearable guilt that simply refused to be consumed. 

the hesitation behind his subtle actions was a telltale that there was a ‘but’ hidden underneath the surface-level flattery. and with an equal amount of incertitude and delay behind your own words, alongside with a hoarse voice, you brace yourself for the moment he finally admits this so-called love of yours was nothing but an illusion.

“but?” 

“…but they’re not her eyes.” 

part 2 here.

[w1shfullthink1ng]

Waiting for the sports car x nika fic 😛😛😛

“NO YOU AIN’T GOT NO MRS, OH BUT YOU GOT A SPORTS CAR”

nika mühl x fem!reader

DESCRIPTION/ after a messy breakup you where off in the night, when someone caught your eye..and was giving you just the right amount of attention. They did say the only person who knows how to treat a woman is a woman so…guess that’s how you got into a car with The Nika Mühl…

WARNINGS/ cursing, drinking, talks of sexuality & relationship status, talks of cheating & toxic men, suggestive, cocky nika, illegal car sex, f!ngering (reader receiving), p eating (nika receiving), minor choking, switch dynamics? (kinda)

THINK THATS IT…buckle up. (see what i did there)

VIBES UP, LIGHTS LOW…you had just gotten out of a toxic relationship with your ex boyfriend. It was a messy breakup & it was hard on you but you knew it was the right decision.

You didn’t miss no ex & you didn’t text him cuz you’re better than that. duh. Even though you weren’t wrong to end things, he wasn’t all bad, however you missed the good memories. Definitely not him.

Your friends decided they’ve had enough of this back & forth feeling, they allowed you to be like this for a little & let you process but now it was time to live it up. You were a free woman now, you needed to get up & remember who the fuck you where.

So that’s exactly what you did, you got up, got dressed & went out with your girls. After living in Seattle for 3 years now you’ve become familiar with the hot spots. The club you where at now was pretty popular. You danced around with your friends & let the night take you away.

You went to the bar to get another drink, sitting on a stool when you felt a presence. You turned and that’s when you saw her…Nika Mühl. Seattle takes pride in their teams especially “Seattle Storms”. “This isn’t real..” you thought to yourself. You’ve always been a pretty big basketball fan, your ex boyfriend was REALLY into basketball, he was even a fan of the storms so when you laid your eyes on seattle storms point guard you could only imagine the look on his face.

You were trying your hardest not to stare but i mean come on. it’s Nika Mühl, she was even more beautiful in person. “Need something pretty girl?” she said with a soft smile teasing you a little about the staring. “Just admiring the view” you said with a smile trying to remain casual but you where lowkey weak in the knees. “Big fan…sorry about your knee miss secretary of defense” she laughs “ah thank you i really appreciate it” she takes a sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving yours

“You from seattle?” she tilts her head a little, looking you up & down, taking you in like her pretty brown eyes could see your soul “Moved here 3 years ago for college” she nods her gaze still intense “You always been a storms fan?” “honestly? I’ve always been more of a liberty girl i mean sabrina ionescu? straight shooter” she shakes her head unable to argue with your statement “I don’t blame you she’s a beast” “I’ve always been a uconn fan tho, so when i saw you got drafted that’s when i got into the whole seattle spirit”

she smiles nudging your shoulder “Became a fan just for me? I must say i’m honored” she winks, she was a menace on & off court. You roll your eyes playfully. She buys you drinks, yall talk, get acquainted “You gotta boyfriend? girlfriend?” you laugh softly at her bluntness “I could ask you the same thing” “I asked first” “I uh….just broke up with my boyfriend about a month ago, he cheated & just wasn’t a great guy so yeah..”

she scoffed “men suck i’m sorry bebo you’re gorgeous he’s an absolute idiot for cheating on you” you smile softly “So whats up with you cuz come on…i know you’re fruity.” you state trying to lighten the mood she laughs shaking her head “yeah so what” she shrugs “i knew it!” “It’s not public information or anything cuz yk how people are but yeah…swing both ways, what can I say if you fine you fine” you nod in agreement “I know that’s right”

after some more light hearted conversation, talking comes to touching when y’all dance together. This was the most alive you’ve felt in awhile, being with nika was so easy. conversation flowed it wasn’t awkward she was just so real & genuine it was a breath of fresh air. Her hands found their way to your hips pulling you closer, your hands drape behind her neck.

She started to get a little handsy her natural confidence mixed with the alcohol made her feel unstoppable. “Aw come on now nika whats this?” you tease her about how handsy she’s getting “I think you know what this is, i think you want me” she whispers in your ear making your breathing get a little uneven “What makes you so sure? you seem awfully confident” you shot back “You think i don’t notice how you’ve eye fucking since you saw me?…tsk tsk tsk come on lijepa djevojka you’re a smart girl yeah? I know you’ve noticed I want you too” her voice was low her croatian accent a little heavier she moved some hair out of your face as she spoke, her hand on your chin making you look at her

“I don’t think I fully believe you” you run your hands through her hair tugging it slightly face to face with her making her bring her tongue to her cheek “you don’t believe me?” you shake your head, her grip on your waist get tighter as she brings you closer to her, chest to chest “I can show you better than i can tell you bebo…I can show you in the alley in the back, the center of this room…in my car with the window rolled down, it’s all up to you”

So that’s how you ended up here, in Nikas car sharing one seat, straddling her, her arms gripping your thighs making y’all as close as humanly possible. You smashed your lips onto hers, it was messy, the taste of cherry, alcohol & greed on her lips. Your hands in her hair as she her hands felt up on your body. “Need you so bad” you whispered in her ear kissing behind it where her tattoo is

Her hands gripped your ass moving up to your hips pushing your back against her steering wheel making you whine, she scrunched your dress up making it pool at your waist, her hands caressing your thighs aching closer to where you need her most “fuck nika please” it came out more whiny then you intended but you where desperate & didn’t care at that point, she smirked laughing a little “so fucking needy, who got you this needy hm?” she asks taking one of her hands to move your panties to the side

“you nika” you whimper out, she plunges two of her fingers in you making you moan, a low chuckle leaves her lips at how easily they slipped in from how soaked you where “it’s too easy you’re so wet, who got you like this?” she asked you, her free hand coming to snake around your neck as her fingers went deeper thrusting in & out making you lose any other thought besides her “you!” you whined answering her question.

her mouth was nasty, just dirty talk, cursing in croatian you couldn’t understand but anything coming out her mouth was so insanely hot it was unreal. Her pace quickens she finds that spot that made you dumb she kept hitting it over & over & over again making you moan out, back arching off the steering wheel as her lips latched onto your neck & chest

“so pretty, taking it so well” she praised she was so gentle yet rough at the same time, perfectly mixing praise & bullying. You where gone no thoughts just how good her fingers felt as she destroyed you so beautifully. She was making you go stupid , you clenched around her fingers you where so close & she wasn’t stopping

you kept moaning her name unable to think of anything else “fuck nika i can’t-“ “yes you can. come on slatka djevojko give it to me, let go” the knot in your stomach busting, you crash into her, head on her shoulder, breathing heavy as she rode you out of it giving your neck, shoulders & cheek sweet kisses as she praised you “there we go that’s it, so good for me yeah…you did so good”

She smiled moving some hair out of your face “you okay pretty girl?” her tone half concerned half teasing, you nod. She gives you a few minutes to collect yourself while she strokes your hair & scratches your back gently. You pull her back in it started off soft & sweet then got hungry & sloppy. You slip your tongue in her mouth a little fight for dominance

You move your mouth down her jaw, neck, & chest, hands moving up & down her body “Gonna show me how good your mouth is or you gonna keep teasing me?” you shake your head smiling against her chest “depends…you gonna beg a little?” “I don’t beg” she rolls her eyes playfully, you took this as a challenge “we’ll see about that” you smirked, she moved the seat back as you maneuvered yourself to your knees on the car floor (knee deep in the passenger seat & you’re eating me out is it causal now?🗣️)

You move her dress up, she lifts her hips helping you, you kiss up on her thighs building up a little tension & savoring her “Come on bebo, you don’t wanna waste my time.” you giggle against her thigh leave a little mark before slipping her panties off, keeping eye contact with the gorgeous girl in front of you

You bring her thighs to rest on your shoulders as you finally give her what she wanted, her hands in your hair tugging & pulling, pushing your head exactly where she wanted you. “fuck yeah just like that”, she squirmed just a little making you pin her to the car seat picking up your pace, she moan & laughs breathlessly “oh okay. yes ma’am.” she teases pulling your hair a little

You didn’t stop or slow down once. You ate her like she was your last meal, starved. Nika was letting go letting out whimpers & moans, you felt her getting close so you slowed down smiling against her making her whine “oh come on.” “told you i wanted you to beg” you mumble looking up at her. She shook her head gripping your chin “you serious?” you nod she had a bit of an ego but the ache between her legs was bigger than her ego right now

“please…” she whined a little, you put your mouth back working on her again “shit….please please please” you smirked, *I don’t beg.* my ass, picked up your pace bringing her back to that edge “keep going for me bebo” filthy croatian words leaving her mouth, the car feeling thick & foggy, her grip on your hair getting tighter as she finished, you slow down bringing her out of it, pulling your mouth away & fixing her dress, licking your lips as she wipes your chin, bringing her fingers to your mouth as you clean them

She pulls you back up into her lap, slapping your ass with a breathless laugh “ah shit…guess your more than a pretty face hmm?” she teased “oh fuck you” “I’m sure you’d like too” she winks, you shrug “already did but…we could go again like 3, 4..times” you smirk “Backseat. Now”

A/N

SPORTS CAR FIC FINALLY ARRIVEDDDD hope it was worth the wait

I have no idea what took me so long to finish this fic (yes i do i was lazy) but tates album “so close to what” is SO fire love love love, might write some more fics based on more songs from her album, i already have some cooking in the drafts😈🙏

hopefully i’m getting better with writing cuz as we know when i write smth suggestive i CANNOT take it seriously or look at again but i just have so many fic ideas where it’s fitting so bare with me PLEASE 😭

thanks for reading, love you always

wish signing off🪽

[magic-shop-stories]

Would you be able to write something ot7 based on how they would be in an arranged marriage (both consenting to the marriage but just maybe not super happy about it at first or maybe they are but are awkward or however you want to do it.) Maybe like a head cannon? I really love the ones that you’ve written. Maybe some angst, some fluff, cuteness, smut. It’s okay if you can’t. I look forward to reading your work in the future either way!

💌 Reply:

Hi there! 💜 Thank you so much for this brilliant request... OT7 arranged marriage? YES, my brain is already spinning with drama, reluctant pining, and chaotic bonding moments. I’ll dive into angsty tensions (looking at you, Yoongi), awkward fluff (Jin’s "worldwide handsome" wedding meltdowns), and eventual OT7 devotion... ahhh my head!!!. I hope you like it... it’s been a blast to write! Thank you for inspiring this chaos! 🖤

NOTE:IMPORTANT! Due to Tumblr’s persistent "processing error" (RIP my sanity), I couldn’t post the full OT7 arranged marriage headcanons in one go without the draft self-destructing, so I split it up not wanting to not post...

THIS POST = Hyung Line (Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi

Maknae Line (Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook) in extra post

Apologies for the hassle! Blame Tumblr’s coding demons, not your sleep depreeved girl that tried to get help from tumblr support for almsot three days (RIP)

LINK TO MAKNAE LINE POST

Warnings: themes of arranged/forced unions, dark political intrigue, family manipulation, heavy emotional distress/internal conflict, explicit content (light smut), subtle violence/domestic tension, corporate and academic power plays

Arranged Marriage Headcanons (AU) (Angst/Fluff/Smut Mix)

NAMJOON = RELUCTANT HEIR & HIS UNLIKELY MUSE

“You think I’m a disaster? Wait till you see my heart.”

WHY THE MARRIAGE HAPPENED

Political Context

your family owns a tech empire on the brink of collapse

Namjoon’s lineage controls a global network of libraries and academic institutions

your union merges knowledge and innovation to outmaneuver rivals

Your Reason

you agreed to protect your younger sibling from being forced into the marriage instead

Namjoon’s Reason

his father’s dying wish

“Preserve our legacy. Even if it costs you your freedom.”

THE WEDDING

= CLASH OF WORLDS

Your Attire

sleek, modern gown

holographic train (nod to your family’s tech roots)

Namjoon’s Attire

navy hanbok with a frayed hem

“It’s my grandmother’s. She… believed in love. I don’t.”

Location

library-turned-venue

books stacked into aisles

other BTS members sit in the front row:

Jin mouths “You’ll be fine!” 

discreetly flipping off a scowling uncle

Yoongi mutters, “This is dystopian.”

slips you a flask of whiskey

Jungkook frowns at his tie

Hobi adjusts it for him

Jimin squeezes your hand before you walk the aisle

Taehyung sketches the scene

captioning it “Two Strangers & A Thousand Books.”

Vows

You: “I promise not to sell your books. Even the boring ones.” Namjoon: “I… promise to try not to set the lab on fire. Again.” 

nervous smirk

crowd laughs awkwardly

Reception

you hide in a bathroom stall

Namjoon finds you

knees pulled to your chest

You: “This is a mistake. ”Namjoon: “Probably. But mistakes make the best footnotes.”

offers his hand

“Dance with me? The DJ’s playing Debussy.”

EARLY DAYS

= TENSION & TEA STAINS

Mansion

fusion of your tech (holographic walls, AI assistants)

his chaos (leaning bookshelves, half-dead bonsais)

First Fight

over the thermostat

You: “Why is it so low? Are you preserving yourself?!” Namjoon: “Cold air helps me think! And your robots keep judging me!”

glares at your hovering drone

Members’ Meddling

Jin “accidentally” sends you both to a couples’ spa

Namjoon gets mud-mask in his hair

you laugh for the first time in weeks

Yoongi leaves a playlist called “Songs for Idiots Who Can’t Communicate.”

Taehyung gifts a shared journal: 

“Write to each other. Or draw dicks. Whatever.”

Breaking Point

Namjoon works through the night, ignoring you

you snap, throwing his Plato anthology out the window

You: “Marry your books next time!” Namjoon: “I did! But they don’t yell at me!”

Silence!!!

he mumbles then

 “…But they also don’t make me want to be better.”

TURNING POINTS

= PAPERBACK ROMANCE

Storm

power outage

you find him in the dark

he's reciting Rumi to calm himself

you join in, voice shaking

he whispers: “You’re… good at this.”

Lab Incident

you collaborate on an AI project

he breaks your prototype

fixes it with a makeshift solution

it's so genius you kiss him mid-rant

Journal

you doodle a robot holding a flower

he writes back: 

“Metaphor for us? Fragile, but… growing.”

INTIMACY

= NERVOUS HANDS, BURNING PAGES

First Kiss

after he quotes Pablo Neruda at 2 a.m.

you cut him off

pressing him against a bookshelf

“Poetry later.” 

Namjoon: “I—I’ve never… I mean, I’ve read about….” You: “Let’s write about it instead.”

Smutty Moments

his clumsiness dissolves into precision when he’s focused

maps your body like a forgotten text

murmuring, “Here… you shiver. Why?”

lets you take control

surprises you with sudden confidence

pinning you to his desk, glasses askew

“I’m a quick study.”

he wraps you in his oversized sweater

reads Vonnegut aloud until you sleep

HOW IT ENDS

Five Years Later

you convert the mansion into a free tech/library hub for students

members visit often:

Jin teaches cooking classes

“Step one: don’t let Joon near the stove!”

Jungkook and Hobi build a VR poetry garden

Tae paints a mural of you and Namjoon

you as a warrior, him as a scholar, back-to-back

Namjoon’s Vows (Renewal Ceremony): “You were the footnote that became the whole story.” You: “And you’re the disaster I’d choose a thousand times.”

Final

chases your toddler through the library

both laughing

Jimin whispers: “Who knew Captain Chaos could be such a dad?”  Yoongi: “Shut up. They’re cute.”

JIN = RELUCTANT PRINCE & HIS UNEXPECTED DUET

“You think I’m just a pretty face? Sweetheart, I’m the whole damn symphony.”

WHY THE MARRIAGE HAPPENED

Political Context

your family (old-money hotel tycoons) needed Jin’s royal-blooded lineage

= a literal prince from a dissolved monarchy

needed him to revive their global reputation

his family, in turn, craved modern wealth to fund their cultural preservation projects

Your Reason

to save your father’s empire from bankruptcy

Jin’s Reason

to protect his brother from being forced into the marriage

“He’s too soft for this shit.” 

signing the contract with a flourish

“I’ll handle it. I always do.”

THE WEDDING

= SPARKLES, SARCASM, AND SECRET TEARS

Your Attire

champagne-colored gown with a 15-foot train

= your mother’s choice

feeling more like a chandelier than a bride

Jin’s Attire

custom ivory tuxedo

actual Swarovski crystals sewn into the lapels

“If I’m a pawn, I’ll be the shiniest pawn in history.”

smirks, adjusting his cufflinks

Location

historic palace ballroom

BTS members are your reluctant bridal party:

Yoongi as the “flower guy”

chucks petals like baseballs

Hobi accidentally trips the DJ’s cord

switching the march song to “Dynamite”

Jungkook spills wine on your toxic aunt

“Oops. Gravity’s a bitch.”

Namjoon gives a rambling speech about “love as a societal construct” 

Jimin steals the mic

Taehyung photobombs every picture

Vows

You: “I vow not to murder you in your sleep. Even if you deserve it.” Jin: “I vow to keep my handsomeness at a manageable level… which is impossible, but I’ll try.” 

crowd groans

he winks

Reception

Jin drags you onto the balcony

both suffocating from the fakeness

You: “This is hell.” Jin: “Hell has a open bar and a photo booth. Lighten up.” 

plucks a rose from a centerpiece

tucking it behind your ear

“You look better when you’re not pretending to smile.”

EARLY DAYS

= EGO CLASHES & EMOTIONAL ESPRESSO MACHINES

Penthouse

luxury high-rise with floor-to-ceiling windows

Jin’s side is spotless

yours looks like a tornado hit a tech conference

First Fight

over his “no carbs after 8 PM” rule

You: “You’re not my personal trainer!” Jin: “And you’re not my wife! Oh wait...”

he freezes

you slam the door

he spends the night serenading your locked room with “Epiphany” until security is called

Members’ Meddling:

Hobi forces you both into couple’s karaoke

Jin belts “Yours” with dramatic vibrato

you accidentally harmonize

Jimin gifts matching pajamas

“Argue in style, losers.”

Yoongi sends a text

“Just bang it out. Literally.”

Breaking Point

Jin hosts a lavish dinner to impress your parents

you catch him re-plating your homemade dumplings into fancy china

You: “Why? My cooking not good enough for Prince Perfect?” Jin: “No! I just… didn’t want them to criticize you.” 

his voice cracks

“I know what that feels like.”

TURNING POINTS

= FROM PAGEANTRY TO PARTNERS

Midnight Kitchen

you find him stress-baking at 3 a.m.

flour in his hair

“I… don’t know how to be real with you." 

you help him fold dumplings

hands brushing

“Start here."

Scandal

Paparazzi photos of him clubbing surface

he panics

you shut it down

“We were both there. Dancing badly. Next question.” 

he stares

“Why defend me?”  “Because you’re mine to tease. Not theirs.”

Gift

buys you a vintage gaming console after overhearing you rant about childhood nostalgia

“I’m not trying to be sweet. It was on sale.”

INTIMACY

= VANITY MELTED INTO VULNERABILITY

First Kiss

after he wins a gaming battle

gloating: “Bow to your king.” 

you yank his collar

silencing him

he melts

whispering: “Okay, you win. But I’m still prettier.”

Smutty Moments

his confidence is infuriatingly hot

undoes his shirt one button at a time

smirk never fading

“Like what you see? It’s a limited edition.”

when you trace the scar on his hip (a childhood accident), he flinches

“I don’t… show people that.” 

you kiss it

“Now it’s my favorite part.”

morning after:

cooks pancakes shaped like his face

“So you never forget who’s really in charge.”

HOW IT ENDS

Five Years Later

you co-own a Michelin-starred restaurant

him in the kitchen

you handling tech

members are “taste-testers”:

Jungkook challenges Jin to eat a ghost pepper

Jin win

then cries into your shoulder

Taehyung paints a mural of Jin as a “Grecian God of Noodles.”

Yoongi invests

muttering: “Only because the kimchi pancakes are decent.”

Jin’s Vows (Renewal Ceremony)

“I used to think love was a performance. You taught me it’s… a really messy duet.” 

slips a ring made from a broken crystal off his wedding tux

“Perfectly imperfect. Like us.”

You: “Still a drama king.” Jin: “And you’re still my favorite audience.”

Final

carries your toddler on his shoulders through the restaurant

both wearing mini chef hats

Jimin snaps a pic for Instagram: 

“Worldwide Handsomest Appa 💜.”

YOONGI =  BROKEN MAESTRO & HIS UNLIKELY SYMPHONY

“You want my heart? Dig through the rubble first.”

WHY THE MARRIAGE HAPPENED

Political Context

merger between Seoul’s oldest underground music empire (Yoongi’s family, the Min Syndicate)

your family’s cutting-edge tech conglomerate

alliance ensures dominance over rival factions trying to monopolize the city’s cultural soul

your family gets street cred

his gets financial leverage

Your Reason

to protect your startup from being crushed by corporate sharks

Yoongi’s Reason

to shield hisolder brother and girlfriend from a life of debt and danger

“He’s a pianist, not a pawn,” 

Yoongi growls signing the contract

cigarette dangling from his lips

“I’ll be the villain. Always am.”

WEDDING

= SMOKE, SILENCE, AND A SCAR

Your Attire

black velvet gown with a high collar

designed to hide the mic transmitter sewn into the hem

= wedding gift from your engineers

Yoongi’s Attire

charcoal suit, no tie, sleeves rolled to his elbows

later (after unbuttoning his shirt) revealing a scar on his shoulder

when you ask about it, he snaps

“None of your business.”

Location

renovated warehouse in Mapo-gu

chains hang from the ceiling

draped with fairy lights

BTS members linger like shadows:

Jin heckles Yoongi: 

“You look constipated. Smile, Your Grumpiness!”

Hobi nervously rearranges the altar candles

Jimin stops him

“Hyung, they’re not Lego.”

Taehyung scribbles lyrics on the program

Jungkook pockets a steak knife (just in case)

Namjoon gives a speech quoting Kierkegaard: 

“Life isn’t a problem to be solved, but..” 

Yoongi cuts him off: 

“Save it, Plato.”

Vows

You: “I vow not to hack your studio. Unless you deserve it.” Yoongi: “I vow to… exist. That’s all you’re getting.”

Reception

he disappears

you find him on the rooftop, nursing a flask

staring at the scarred skyline

You: “Regretting this already?” Yoongi: “Regret implies I had a choice.” 

offers the flask

Yoongi: “Whiskey?” You: “I prefer soju.” Yoongi (smirking): “Figures. You’re trouble.”

EARLY DAYS

= WAR ZONE WITH A SOUNDTRACK

Loft

concrete bunker with a studio booth, neon signs

your tech sprawled across a steel desk

his side smells like smoke and espresso

yours like solder and ambition

First Fight

over noise complaints

You: “Your bass shakes the damn walls at 3 a.m.!” Yoongi: “Your robots sound like dying cats. Fix them.”

Compromise

he produces a track titled “STFU (Sweetheart, This Frequency)” 

he blasts it

you retaliate by hacking his speakers to play “Nyan Cat” on loop

Members’ Meddling

Jimin leaves a “Romance for Dummies” playlist:

Track 1: “I Need U” (acoustic)

Yoongi deletes it

you recover it

Jin sends a “Couples’ Survival Kit”

= bandaids, earplugs, and a “Worldwide Handsome” facemask

Yoongi burns the mask

Taehyung paints a mural of you both as rival superheroes

Yoongi begrudgingly hangs it in the hallway

Breaking Point

you overhear him arguing with a loan shark on the phone

“Touch my brother and I’ll end you.” 

later, he works until his hands bleed

you storm in

slamming a first-aid kit on his desk

You: “You’re not a martyr. Stop acting like one.” Yoongi: “What do you care?” You (yanking his chair around): “Because I hate wasted potential. Even yours.”

TURNING POINTS

= CRACKS IN THE ARMOR

Scar Story

comes home shirtless

fresh from a fight

shoulder scar raw

you clean his wounds silently

he finally confesses

“I got it at 19. Accident, later took a knife for my brother. Worth it.”

Collab

you design a synth program for his mixtape

he grumbles: “Don’t fuck it up." 

stays up with you for 48 hours

when it’s done, he mutters, “…Not bad.” 

high praise

Nightmare

wakes screaming from a panic attack

you don’t ask

just hold him

he tenses

then collapses into your arms

“Don’t… tell anyone.” 

INTIMACY

= ROUGH EDGES, HIDDEN TENDERNESS

First Kiss

you beat him at Mario Kart

he slams his controller

“Bullshit. You cheated.”

you lean in

“Cry about it.” 

he kisses you like a man starved

all teeth and desperation

“Happy?”  “Getting there.” 

you smirk

Smutty Moments

his touch is intense

almost angry

bites your lip

grips your hips hard enough to bruise

when you trace his scar, he stills

whispering: “Careful. That’s… my weak spot.”

mornings after

= he’s gone before dawn

but leaves a coffee on your desk (creamer ratio perfect)

catches you humming his melody

“You… like it?” 

you shrug

“It’s okay.” 

he hides a smile

“Yeah. Okay.”

HOW IT ENDS

Five Years Later

you co-found SugaTech

= hybrid music-tech empire

loft is now a studio where street kids learn production

members are regulars:

Hobi teaches dance breaks

Jin judges ramen cook-offs

Jungkook films a docu-series: 

“Min Yoongi: Grump with a Gold Heart.” 

Yoongi threatens to sue

Namjoon hosts poetry slams

Yoongi “accidentally” plays trap beats over them

Yoongi’s Vows (Renewal Ceremony): 

“I don’t believe in fate. But you? You’re a glitch in the system I can’t delete.”

You: “Still a romantic, I see.” Yoongi: “Shut up. And… thanks. For not giving up.”

Final

cradles your newborn daughter

her tiny fist gripping his pinky

Jimin coos: “Uncle Yoongi’s a softie!” 

Yoongi flips him off

but kisses her forehead

“Don’t tell anyone, kid.”

J-HOPE = SUNSHINE WARRIOR & HIS SHADOWED HEART

“You want the real me? Brace yourself, it’s not all confetti and glitter.”

WHY THE MARRIAGE HAPPENED

Political Context

your family (philanthropists rebuilding war-torn regions) needed Hobi’s family

= a dynasty of cultural ambassadors

to legitimize their global outreach

his clan was drowning in debt from funding art festivals

the marriage merges hope and hustle

Your Reason

to shield your NGO from being dismantled by corrupt officials

Hobi’s Reason

to protect his family’s dance studio from foreclosure

“We'd rather die than lose it.” 

signing the papers with a too-bright smile

“So… let’s dance through hell together, yeah?”

WEDDING

= PERFORMANCE WITH CRACKED MASK

Your Attire

fiery red gown with a detachable skirt

for “emergency escapes.”

you joke about it

Hobi’s Attire

gold-tailored suit, sequined gloves

shoes that click when he walks

“Gotta shine, even in the dark.”

his knuckles whiten around a stress ball

Location

renovated theater in Busan

BTS members are co-conspirators:

Jin hijacks the DJ booth

blasting “Chicken Noodle Soup” and "Super Tuna"

Yoongi mans the bar

slipping extra shots into Hobi’s lemonade

“Liquid courage”

Jimin choreographs the bridal party’s entranc

Taehyung trips

Jungkook backflips to cover it

Namjoon accidentally sets the floral arch on fire

“Symbolic… of passion?” 

Vows

You: “I vow to never dull your sparkle. Even when it’s blinding.” Hobi: “I vow to… keep smiling. For both of us.” 

his voice wavers

Reception

drags you into a storage closet

collapsing against the wall

You: “You’re shaking.”Hobi: “Adrenaline. I’m fine.”

he laughs, hollow

“Always fine.” 

you press a hand to his chest

his heartbeat races

“…Liar.”

EARLY DAYS

= SUNSHINE STORMS

Penthouse

minimalist space splashed with neon art

his dance studio takes up half the living room

your NGO blueprints cover the kitchen table

First Fight

over his relentless optimism

You: “Stop saying ‘It’ll work out!’ when it won’t!” Hobi: “What do you want me to do? Cry? Scream? Would that make you feel better?!”

slams the door

then returns with tea

“…Sorry. Habit.”

Members’ Meddling

Jimin signs you up for salsa classes

Hobi’s grin slips when you stumble

J-Hope: “You’re… not a dancer, huh?”  You: “Not everyone’s a prodigy.” 

you snap

he freezes

Taehyung paints a mural of you both as sun and storm clouds

Hobi stares at it for hours.

Jin sends a “Fight Clean!” kit

= boxing gloves and herbal tea

“Hit each other safely!”

Breaking Point

you find him practicing a routine at 3 a.m.

shirt soaked, eyes bloodshot

You: “You’ll collapse.” Hobi: “I have to be perfect. For Army, for the family, for y..." You (grabbing his wrists): “For who? Me? I didn’t marry perfection. I married you.” 

he crumples

TURNING POINTS

= RAINBOWS AFTER RAIN

Panic Attack

he hyperventilates before a charity gala

you drag him to a bathroom

wiping his smudged eyeliner

“Breathe. Just… be Hoseok tonight.”

Dance

teaches you a simple waltz

“Stop counting steps. Feel the music.” 

you sway, foreheads touching

“See? You’re a natural.”

Truth

confesses his family’s debts

“I’m not the hero they think I am.” 

you show him your NGO’s failures

“We’re both faking it. Let’s… fake it together.”

INTIMACY

= FIERY RHYTHMS, QUIET TRUTHS

First Kiss

after he wins an award for his charity work

he’s mid-speech, voice cracking

you pull him backstage and kiss him fiercely

“You don’t have to perform for me.”

Smutty Moments

his passion is electric

hands gripping your waist

hips moving like he’s choreographing your bodies

“Keep up” 

he smirks, but his eyes beg "Don’t let go"

he traces your scars (physical, emotional)

“Beautiful.The cracks… they let the light in.”

catches you dancing badly to his playlist

“Cute.” 

he teases you

later joining in

“But here... let me lead.”

HOW IT ENDS

Five Years Later

you co-run a community center

dance classes upstairs

crisis counseling downstairs

members are family:

Jungkook teaches parkour

Yoongi funds music therapy

Jimin and Tae host monthly “Dance Away the Pain” nights

Namjoon writes grants

Jin cooks endless kimchi stew for everyone for free

Hobi’s Vows (Renewal Ceremony)

“I used to think love was a performance. You taught me it’s… a freestyle. Messy. Real.” 

slips a ring made from his familys old studio key

“Home is wherever we’re both… us.”

You: “Still cheesy.” Hobi (grinning through tears): “But you love it.”

Final

he spins your daughter in the studio

her giggles echoing

Jimin films it

Hobi posts it with “#DaddyHobi”

then immediately deletes it

he's blushing

“That stays in the vault!”

JIMIN/TAEHYUNG/JUNGKOOK in extra post

[raayllum]

Why Callum Made His Choice (7x02)

Or choices, and why I think each of them were a long time coming. The according choices down below:

Defending Runaan

Betraying his brother

Leaving with Rayla

Resigning as High Mage

Let's go, because sections of this have been sitting in my drafts since the season aired because I thought it'd be fun, but now it's been long enough that now there's Dreaded Discourse (???) over the topic; this meta is not mean to be a rebuttal to any version of critique of events, merely an explanation behind Callum's actions/characterization, and why he did like... absolutely everything in the exact manner I'd always thought ahead of time that he would with his reasonings, processing, framing, and actions. Okay? Okay.

Just a warning: this got really long, do not read it in one sitting, there are sections for a reason. Or if you are, grab a snack and a drink first. Stay hydrated.

Okay now we can go.

Why does Callum defend Runaan?

This one is, I think, the simplest to answer in some ways, purely because 3x06 gave us the answer a long time ago.

I hate him. He's the one who took my mother. Looking at him, seeing him... It makes me sad, and angry, and... confused. See that spear? It was her spear, my mom's, and my stepdad put it into his heart. How am I supposed to feel about that? Glad? Happy that we got revenge? Or maybe regretful, and sad, because... Because that was Zym's dad. I feel so sorry that this all happened.

Callum is a deeply relational person. He aligns himself with Rayla in 1x03 because of Ezran and then trusts her because she's willing to lose a hand for his little brother. He does dark magic to save Rayla and free the dragon because he knows she won't leave without it. He forgives and works/trusts Soren in 3x08 because the man helped save his little brother. While Runaan's bow initially throws him, it ultimately does not matter to him because that's Rayla's dad and she loves him, and that's enough for Callum. His extreme relational viewpoint is also why he's so loyal to Ezran and to Rayla, and why crossing/putting either of them at risk (hi Viren, hi Claudia) cause those relationships to continually and rapidly deteriorate without looking back.

Callum has also had practice with Avizandum and Zubeia. As he points out to Ezran:

You forgave Zubeia. Who did you think gave the order for Runaan to kill Dad? But somehow you got past that. You forgave her, because everything was complicated. Humans, dragons, elves. We've all made mistakes. That doesn't mean we have to keep making them.

Callum also cares a lot about fairness. At first, he defends Runaan because he's being blamed, in Callum's eyes, for something he didn't directly do (destroying Katolis). Then they discuss things more directly, and Callum says the above. And while Ezran isn't wrong that killing Harrow would be enough on its own, I think we can clearly see that Ezran's anger and despair at feeling wildly out of control needs somewhere to go. He's not angry at Runaan solely because of the destruction of Katolis, but the destruction of his home is absolutely a contributing factor.

He wanted to kill/destroy Sol Regem in order to let out anger and exert control, but couldn't because the dragon was already dead. He was so focused on forgiving Zubeia and putting his feelings aside regarding Avizandum ("Everything Avizandum did was to protect Xadia" including murdering your mother) that the majority of his anger got channeled at a safer target: the assassin who directly did the deed (because Rayla defected, and Zubeia changed her mind). Who was already dead.

Basically: Callum points out that Ezran is holding Runaan uniquely responsible, and in a way that isn't particularly helpful or in line with Ezran's previous values: "This is exactly the cycle of violence you worked so hard to end." The cycle they both worked to end. If Callum had any complicated feelings about Runaan (as indicated in TTM) or about Zubeia / Avizandum, he worked through them a while ago, and given that Ez had done the same for 2/3, it's not an unreasonable expectation that Ezran would do the same. Harrow was Callum's dad too, after all.

Furthermore, Ezran is so angry that, according to Callum (who in many ways knows Ezran best), he isn't himself right now, either. Punishing Runaan by imprisoning him is not what Harrow would want and only serves to exacerbate Ezran's own worsening mental state and Rayla's to boot.

It's also not like Callum says that what Runaan did was okay, but that the situation was complicated, and Callum has faith that Ezran will do the right thing eventually in letting Runaan go. Literally, Callum just wants the man to not die and for Rayla's family to be together again because they can be. Especially in 7x02. He's not going to let Runaan die (because it'd hurt Rayla) anymore than he'd let Zym (because it'd hurt Ezran).

This is especially true given that the first shows of loyalty Rayla ever displayed towards either of them was 1) turning on her family (father) in order to protect him and Ezran, and 2) offering to fight against her family/people in order to save Harrow when she had literally only known these boys for a few hours, AND Callum's statement from 2x07 of "If we really want to change things, we can't just keep watching while humans and Xadia hurt each other." (More on 2x07 and 7x02 parallels here.)

If Callum (and Ezran) had chosen in 1x03 the way Ez is choosing in 7x02, they never would've left to return Zym to Xadia, period. After all, "why is there any moral confusion at all" about reuniting a family, a parent and child and allowing them to live their lives, when the parent has committed such terrible acts that took your father away from you? Kids shouldn't have to pay for "the choices their father made" (3x02) but "a life for a life"—one dead and one in jail forever while the person who ordered him to never faced any of your ire—is just "justice" after all.

That said, the slightly thornier decision (especially to Callum emotionally), I think, is his choice to betray Ezran as a result of defending Runaan, so let's get into it.

Betraying his brother

While on a certain level betraying Ezran means siding with Rayla, I do think that's a simplification. It's one both Ezran and Rayla tug at ("So you're on Ezran's side now" / "High Mage. We need you at this council meeting") with poor Callum in the middle, but I don't think it's a good reflection of the situation on either end because it's too simple, and both Ez and Rayla's framing/judgements are heavily clouded at first by their emotions.

I think Callum coming to bail Rayla and Runaan out, and offering to help her on the bridge, is far less about choosing sides as it is about Callum's fixer tendencies, which I've discussed before (in Nov 2021, christ it's been a while).

He is very solution oriented, sometimes to the point of obsession (leaping after Ezran in 1x06 and 4x01; forgetting Sol Regem is there in 3x01 in running to Rayla) and his anger most commonly comes out directed at the person he perceives as being an obstacle to Fixing the problem for himself/his friends. This fixer tendency is is also why he's such a caring considerate guy most of the time, manifesting in his desire to nurture and care for those around him, and closely tied to his pursuit of magic (so he can have agency/the ability to help).

He's devoted himself since learning about the coins to giving Rayla back her family, regardless of who that family includes, and regardless of what else is on the line. We see this repeatedly in 5x04 wherein he risks all of their lives to stay at the Great Bookery because once he gets fixated on finding a solution, he does not have an off switch, regardless — just like in 7x02 — of whether Rayla is asking him (never mind directly telling him not to) to help her.

Now, Runaan is trapped again, but it's not at Viren's hand (though Ezran, snapping at Soren to arrest someone despite the crownguard's hesitation, and his focus on security/power, isn't not acting like the former high mage) but his brother's. That's no good. And Rayla is more likely to fumble the bag without his help; this, plus the fact that Callum does agree with Rayla that Runaan deserves to be free, is why he willingly offers aid even before the situation escalates. It is also a parallel to Claudia ("You do anything for family." "It's too much to ask" "It's love" / "You don't have to ask. I would do anything for you") so no, I don't think it's meant to be entirely healthy either, because Callum's intensity often times gets people into more trouble, not less, but I digress.

As for the escalation itself: he can't just let get Rayla and Runaan on the boat, when the crownguard plus Soren and Corvus are actively chasing after them, and neither Rayla nor Runaan know sky/ocean magic or how to wield it, which is the only reason they get successfully away at all. He had to go with them to ensure their escape, for more reason than one.

But as stated: He is always going to pick the thing that gives him a solution to a Problem, and therefore pick the person with the problem that he thinks he can solve. And he tries, with Ezran to be clear, though more on that in a bit.

This fixer tendency is also why he's willing to repeatedly do dark magic, and why he's willing to sacrifice the simple quiet life that he wants if it means his loved ones get to live ("If you love them, Rayla, Ezran, all of them, you'll do anything to save them [...] It's not about you, is it?"). Rayla needed saving in 7x02, she was the one at physical risk, Ezran was not. Rayla was the one with an emotional problem Callum could easily solve (free Runaan = happy Rayla) and Ezran's was not (because it was more complicated).

And this is also why even once Ezran comes in with the Nova Blade in 7x09, presenting another way to defeat Aaravos, Callum is willing to through with doing dark magic even though he no longer needs to in the same manner, because if Ezran kills Aaravos, then:

AARAVOS: Your window is closing, dark mage. Act quickly, or the brave king and Dragon Prince will seal my fate, and set the world on fire. (7x09)

AARAVOS: Very soon, your brother will embrace dark magic to save those he loves. [...] I have seen it written in his eyes. (7x07)

This is also why he picks going to Ezran over trying to save Harrow in 1x03 ("I'm coming, Ezran!"—book 1 novelization), because he had no skills at the time to use to save Harrow, but he could get Ezran out safely.

He will always pick the person he can physically save, who needs saving in that moment, with whatever tools he has at his disposal, in whatever way he thinks is most likely to work. And no one comes above Rayla or Ezran to him. It's that simple.

Callum is also incredibly personal; he is rarely truly politically motivated. Ezran constructing the betrayal as "he betrayed all of Katolis" I can guarantee is not something that heavily factored into Callum's headspace as a concept, but he does frame it as a political betrayal (hence his resignation) rather than a personal one:

I'm sorry, Ezran. I can't be your High Mage anymore. But I'll always be your brother.

Whether that framing is correct is debatable, but given him and Ezran's talk at the end, I do think Callum comes to conceptualize/understand it as both. That said, Callum isn't the first one to disavow their 'brotherly' bond; in some ways, Ezran is, because he says that he needs his High Mage, not his brother. This is an important sticking point in some ways because Ezran and Karim are also being deliberately paralleled, and have been for seasons:

EZRAN: Sometimes it's hard, but when I struggle, I think about the people I love who are counting on me to do the right thing. Not the harsh thing, not the strong thing. The right thing. Do you love your sister, Prince Karim? KARIM: Wha-? I... Of course. She is leading our people down the wrong path, but she will always be my sister. EZRAN: Then you can still choose love. It's not too late. (6x07)

It's also worth noting that Ezran offers Karim and his people—blatant traitors to the crown of Lux Aurea and people who have tried to kill Janai multiple times—the option to "leave, and build your own future far away from here," which is what Runaan was planning to do befor he got arrested. That Ezran "looks into the face and hears the words of those he judges" (7x07) for Aaravos before he gives Runaan the same opportunity.

Furthermore, Karim is someone who completely disavows the personal to only focus on the political. His sister becomes a traitorous queen who he looks at only with contempt, despite stating "I love you sister, I always will"; his baby is not his child, but his heir. Ezran is not acting like himself/Callum's brother, but as his king, and that includes reaffirming/pulling rank ("I have to stop you. I'm sworn to King Ezran" / "Well, King Ezran, how determined are you to stop me?").

But Callum always treats Ezran like his brother, and does try to fix things, on Ezran's side. He goes to him in 7x02 and advocates for setting Runaan free and—as the person who first identifies the cycle in the series (1x02)—if Callum says something is perpetuating the cycle, he's probably 99% right. He is there to understand, accepts Ezran's anger, but also challenges it. It seems like maybe Callum is getting through to him (with Callum and Zym's framing being paralleled like, so incredibly on the nose) but then Runaan and Rayla are caught.

Ezran has the chance to do what Callum considers "the right thing" (and what Ezran does throughout all prior seasons) and let them go. He doesn't. Instead, he moves to arrest Runaan and Rayla and drag them back to the Banther Lodge by force... for what? Would that actually make him feel better? Or is it just giving him the means to feel control after feeling wildly out of control? He doesn't even go down to see Runaan at any point to see him suffer; he just wants to know Runaan is in jail and separated from his family.

Ezran is then also paralleled to Claudia further, specifically when Callum betrayed her by immobilizing her, because she didn't want her prisoner (the egg) to be taken and reunited with its family, either.

CLAUDIA: Callum, what are you doing? CALLUM: The right thing, I hope. I'm sorry Claudia. (1x03)

EZRAN: Callum, what are you doing? CALLUM: The right thing, I hope. (7x02)

Then Ezran threatens to kill him / risk killing him if Callum doesn't move out of the way, in an even more direct Janai-Karim and Soren-Claudia parallel. (Claudia's rage in the finale also lampshades this with Soren attempting it even less tbh, with "Were you really going to go through with it? Kill me, your sister? I could kill you both!"). The background guard lady even looks surprised after Ezran raises his hand, so the threat is more than apparent even to the characters within the setting.

AANYA: My next shot will be more than a warning.

But Ezran decides trying to kill/wrangle back Runaan is not worth killing or possibly his brother, and Callum reaffirms they are brothers and always will be, and leaves it at that.

This shift from political "king and high mage" to "we're brothers" is also directly stated/reaffirmed in their reconciliation scene as being the most important thing: "Because we're brothers." "Brothers," leaving whether Callum will be high mage again up in the air, but his place as Ezran's brother—and Ezran as his—is not. Callum is wiling to betray Ezran on one front, but refuses flat out to entirely relinquish the bond on any other. He hopes he's doing the right thing, and he hopes that even in doing so ("I know it was hard, but it was the right thing. You know that. I know you do") they can reconcile.

EZRAN: Callum. High Mage. We need you at this council meeting. (7x02)

CALLUM: It was okay to be angry, but I couldn't let the bad feelings stick. Because we were going to need each other. Because we're brothers. I still need you, Ezran. I know it's been a hard time, but I really hope— EZRAN: I need you, too. (7x09)

We also do see Callum support Ezran throughout both 7x01 and 7x02 (until he can't/won't)—embracing him (which Ez, in shock, does not return), following his orders to investigate with Corvus, explaining his side to Rayla, attending the entire meeting even after Rayla leaves, though he regrets it. What Callum is doing, therefore, is living in the moral confusion — the complicated nature of their complex lives of hurt and breaking the cycle — that Ezran is refusing to now that he's been set with a new challenge, willing to inflict pain on others because of the pain and loss Runaan had inflicted on him, and Callum knows this.

EZRAN: Violence, loss, pain. More violence. Stop! Stop. I just want to yell stop. But that’s not enough. It won’t work. I think about a positive vision, a faith we can all share, that we might build a future together in hope. A future where we can be safe with each other.  But… It’s not that easy or simple. Because people are still hurting and they are still angry. We can’t ignore that, or pretend it will go away. Somehow, we have to hold it all in our hearts at the same time. We have to acknowledge the weight of the pain and loss, but open up our eyes and allow ourselves to hope and maybe forgive and love again.

CALLUM: No, that's not what I'm saying. It's just... It's complicated. (7x02)

CALLUM: The three of us have been through a lot together. We'll get through this too... right? [...] Give Ezran a bit of time to process all this. [...] Ezran will do the right thing. He just needs a bit of time to get there. (7x02).

CALLUM: You forgave Zubeia. Who do you think ordered Runaan to kill Dad? But somehow, you got past that. You forgave her, because everything was complicated.

AARAVOS: Childhood innocence gives way to something complicated. (7x02) / I have seen generations of humans and elves accept the darkness that lurks in all of us beside the light. There is no black or white, only shades of gray. We must all carry complexity. (7x04)

CALLUM: Dear Ezran. A few days ago, I started writing you a letter about how sorry I am that I hurt you, about how sad I am that there's a rift between us, and about how certain I am that somehow we'll find a way to repair things. (7x07)

EZRAN: I'm going to forgive you. I don't know how, but I have to try. (7x09)

So yes, Callum betrays his brother to protect their father's killer — the same way Callum betrayed his friend to reunite the person who ordered the hit with her child; the same way Ezran defended the murderer and explicit murder of his mother — because that killer is person is your best friend's father.

REX IGNEOUS: Or is the Dragon King too busy picking fights with little humans at the border? That was always his favourite sport: stomping on ants and calling himself a conqueror.

EZRAN: Everything Avizandum did was to protect Xadia! (4x08)

So just to sum up, Callum betrays Ezran for 4 main reasons:

If he didn't help Rayla break Runaan out, it was more likely something was going to go wrong (and he was right). If he didn't save her with the ice spell, she and Runaan were going to end up hurt and/or arrested or worse.

Callum is determined to treat her like family (even if Ez is not) and to break the cycle as they were instructed by Harrow, and as Ezran has done himself many times.

Rayla had an emotional and then physical problem that Callum Fixer McGee could fix; Ezran had an emotional problem that he was basically stonewalling Callum on.

Ezran had numerous other people in his corner to rely on (Zym, Aanya, Opeli, Soren, Corvus, Barius, his general guards, etc). Rayla had literally no one but her imprisoned father, all of her former friends and allies (Soren and Corvus) turning on her without question because the boy she was willing to lose a hand for told them to.

Rayla had greater need of Callum in the situation and in the moment, so his loyalty to her won out; if her and Ezran's situations had been reversed, Callum would've picked Ezran in that moment and situation without question, because that who he is. He picks whoever he thinks needs him more—over others, and over his own potentially hurt feelings.

None of this means, however, that Ezran didn't need his brother in S7. So let's talk about:

Why did Callum leave with Rayla?

There's the practical and the emotional ones, I think.

Practical:

As discussed, Rayla and Runaan wouldn't have made it in the boat without him. There is no way anything other than magic would've made it move fast enough to get away, and neither elf is inclined or aware enough of sky or ocean magic to make the boat go that way. Callum literally had to go with them.

If Callum had stayed, he would've likely been arrested himself, putting Rayla in a difficult situation of either sending Runaan off on his own to then bail Callum out, or leaving without him when he was in a bad situation. He wasn't going to do that.

If Ezran had arrested Callum, it also wouldn't have made him much happier or actually fixed anything. Callum might've (as in canon) apologized for hurting him, but Callum wasn't going to take back what he'd done, and this was probably just going to exacerbate Ezran's issues further.

At the time Callum left, Ezran wasn't focused on rebuilding Katolis and had made this plain. He was instead focused on collecting weapons, travelling to Duren and back to do so, and we only see him return to the castle's immediate surroundings when Aaravos shows up.

The emotional ones:

After 2 years of separation, and the only times they are separated usually being when Rayla is the most in danger, yeah, Callum doesn't want to be separated from her. She's his best friend and his life partner, and he and Ez have willingly & happily led far more separate lives for a while now (more on that in the next section). He wants to go with her. Sue him.

Callum believes that Ezran needs time to process his anger. He knew he wasn't able to get through to Ez, and that the betrayal would hurt him. It's not unlikely, then, that Callum thought time and distance would help, and that they could try to mend things later.

Katolis did not factor in (but I'll get to that in a bit).

Callum rarely experiences regret unless it puts the life of someone he loves directly in danger, and rarely questions the validity of his actions, especially when he think someone is wrong. (This is also why he'll never regret using the torture spell on Claudia, for example.)

Callum also knows Rayla and we see that, without him, Rayla would've dropped Runaan off at the Silvergrove and then immediately dipped. He wanted to go with her to emotionally support her and also knew that Rayla would let him vs not letting anyone helping her. Until Rayla is reunited with her family and let back into the Silvergrove, she does not have a support system outside of him; Ezran does.

As for having a good time at the Silvergrove... We see Callum's first day there, whereupon he's mostly focused on what Rayla and her family's situation is going to be. Runaan and Ethari make up for failing Rayla by giving her unconditional support and forgiveness, literally binding their fates to hers for the trial and supporting her when it doesn't go well and they think they'll be banished too. Callum has come all this way to reunite her with her village/family and considers her his family; yes, he's going to join in on the group hug and be happy when he's encouraged to. The next time we see them in the Silvergrove, it's been 2 weeks, and Callum is still a little awkward/nervous, but again, mostly focused on giving the family time to spend together and wanting to be integrated, because well...

CALLUM: Be with you. [Kisses her] Yup, I could do this. Pretty nice life. (7x05)

He wants a life with her; he likely has plans to marry and have children with her. It'd be like if Ezran wanted to have Zym around always and had issues with Zubeia constantly; it wouldn't exactly jive. Secondly, Callum's feelings about Runaan were always something I'd figure he wouldn't deal with directly right away, instead focusing on peace/Rayla, and then it would sneak up on him that it bothered him / was something he had to confront ("I just hoped, if I didn't think about it, maybe it wouldn't be true"). Less than one month passing in-show time with no real issues, especially with an entirely repentant Runaan? Yeah that's completely on brand to not be on screen because it'd only happen later.

In regards to Callum making peace and engaging more happily with Runaan... He's definitely not going to do anything else when 1) Runaan's not provoking him first and 2) in front of Rayla. Callum needing to adjust in the fic cited below (written by me and thosefiveadoraburrs in January 2020) semi-early into his relationship with Runaan is exclusively because Runaan is being a prickly asshole. Barring that, and even with that, the integration going smoothly is pretty easy for Callum at first because he's so focused/driven by his love for Rayla. Period.

"The point is that while I don’t care what you say about me, as I’ve heard far worse from other elves like you, Rayla does and you are still her father and she deserves to have you in her life and to have a good relationship with you. So when she’s not around, you can say whatever you want, even to my face. I don’t care and I don’t plan on rising to it anyway. But when she is around, you keep that shit to yourself, because it’s only going to upset her, and she’s been through more than enough.” [...] "You were so young," Rayla said, "so young, when you lost your family. And even if you’d been older, I don’t think their absence would hurt less, but I’m not surprised you notice it more because of how you had to grow up largely without them." [...] "It’s just… on any side," Callum said, "I can never just move on from what I’ve done, or what people think I’ve done, and I wish they would just let us be , sometimes. Without knowing that people think I should be regretting whatever decisions I’ve made, because they’re wrong. I never regret what they think I do.” 

Furthermore, from my pre-S6 fic:

Halfway through [their chess game], though, Ez rubbed at his temples again, and this time Callum asked about it. “You okay?” “Yeah.” Ez frowned as he surveyed the board and then moved his rook. “It’s just Zym. Normally when we’re far away, our emotions don’t blur too much... But because we’re both stressed about the same thing...” “It’s a lot?” Ez nodded, picking up a pawn and then setting it down on the same square, considering. “There is one thing you and Rayla could do to help, maybe.” Callum thought of the Summit that would be a few days’ long trip to Duren and tried not to squirm in his seat. “Oh?” Please not... “Well, we finally got the go ahead for the Summit next week. And the rest of the Pentarchy might take the urgency of hiding the prison more seriously if you and Rayla came along,” Ez said. “Since you’re High Mage, and Rayla’s Xadian. Since we don’t have Zubeia to rely on.”  “Yeah.” Callum focused on the board rather than Ezran’s expectant face, waiting for a yes he didn’t want to give. And what excuse could he offer, really?  Ez would probably pushback if he just thought they wanted to make a beeline for the Starscraper because of the Nova Blade. Ugh. Two secrets at the same time was the worst. And he wasn’t about to drag Rayla out to Duren just to be a token Xadian when he’d spent that morning trying to convince her that putting her parents above other missions that weren’t hers was actually okay for her to do. “Well, let’s see,” he said, hoping that’d be enough. “Don’t have to rush into anything.”

“He saw the egg and he would’ve still killed both of us!” “You think I don’t know that?” “Then how you can not care?” Ezran cried, voice cracking. His nose was runny, eyes stinging again. He bit something back. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t lose this argument just because he was crying. There was a fire in his chest that couldn’t be doused. “I do care, but I also care—I care more about Rayla,” Callum countered, because of course that’s what he’d fucking say. Ezran turned away from him, rolling his eyes and not in the mood to see Callum gesture at him. “She’s our family, why isn’t that—” [...] “You had Opeli and the rest of the council,” Callum said. “Don’t you get it? We’re all she has, we have to be on her side, she doesn’t have—she loves him. And that's enough for me."

“[About betraying and abandoning Ezran to free Runaan] What’s done can’t be undone. We can’t take it back.” Rayla chanced resting a hand on his shoulder. She had to accept his honesty if she was going to ask the question. “Do you wish you could?” “No.” He finally looked at her. “But I wish it could’ve gone differently, I...” Softening, he took her hand from his shoulder, running his thumb over her knuckles. “You’re family,” he said resolutely. “I won’t forget that, even if Ez has.” [...] “So you think it was the right thing?” she prompted more softly. Callum sighed, angry again—but not at her. “I don’t know if there’s always a right thing to do, anymore,” he muttered, sitting in the spot she’d vacated on the bed. “You just... make the choices you can in the situations you’re in, because the alternatives are so much worse. Other paths that you won’t—that you can’t live with.” 

But the big thing, I think, is that in Callum's head... nothing is more important than your closest interpersonal relationships. He's devastated by the loss of Katolis in general, yes—"Katolis was destroyed and that... that is devastating" and his sobbing before Soren finds him—because it was home, even if it was a home he never felt entirely at home in, due to his uncertainty with Harrow and place as a prince. But Callum also cries in 7x01 when he sees the king's tower has collapsed, and thinks he's lost Ezran.

In 1x06, Rayla gives her reason for travelling with the boys, yes, citing:

RAYLA: I could take it any time I want to. CALLUM: Then what's stopping you? RAYLA: Cause it as to come from you. Human princes returning the egg of the Dragon Prince, that's the gesture that matters. That's what could stop the war and change the world.

And it's not good enough for him (hence his angry little face persisting even after she explains) because that's not the reason he wants to hear. He wants to hear that she cares about them. That they're her friends, which is why that's precisely what he says to her on the ice before handing over the egg: "We're lucky to have you as our friend. I do trust you" even before he knows the truth about her binding. He wants the personal. Needs the personal. That's what matters. But that's not what Ezran draws on for any of their interactions. And if it's unfathomable to understand how or why Callum could walk away, then the good news is that said perspective ALSO made it into the fanon s6 fic through Corvus:

Corvus pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can understand why the assassin would want to be free. I understand why Rayla would want him to be, too, and she loves the boys immensely. But I cannot understand Callum’s hand in it, the lengths he’s willing to go to. It is not as though he is the only one who could ever free the man. And Ezran is his brother and his king. His baby brother. [...] His responsiblity. It’s our duty as older siblings. He’s a sorry excuse for an older brother to just walk away like and abandon Ezran like that.” 

Because in the "family member picks breaking the cycle even if that means leaving their younger sibling / more emotionally distressed family member behind (often with others to support them): The Show", such as Janai marrying a human + sparing the architect who had every opportunity to think about the pain she'd cause by putting out the soul flame of Yonnis' parent even when Karim thinks she's not focused enough on the destruction of their home; Soren leaving his abusive warmongering father and killing him even if it devastates Claudia; Astrid abandoning her brother/family to warn everyone about Aaravos; Rayla fighting Runaan on the battlements; Viren leaving Claudia on the beach show, surprisingly, there's going to be patterns that Callum and co. will fall into.

If you're interested more in Ezran's side of things, his emotional processing throughout the season / construction of his identity, and how/why he was perpetuating the cycle, you can check out this meta here.

For now, let's finally talk about the final real section of our meta, which is

Why did Callum resign as High Mage?

On the one hand, Callum's resignation shows that he does conceptualize what he's doing as a betrayal, as noted, and as something that would cause a rift, as verbally stated in 7x07. He "knew my leaving would hurt you" just the way that Rayla leaving him did so. He also knew that at this time, to him, it was necessary. He knows that he can't do this and stay on as High Mage. He also knows, at this point, that he doesn't want to be high mage.

Because "that was devastating, but that wasn't Runaan." Because Callum doesn't personally care about Katolis as a kingdom/castle, and quite honestly, he never has. Post-S3, when things would've been politically terse, as shown in Through the Moon, he was willing to leave Ezran in Katolis on one day notice to go have a vacation exploring Xadia.

And it's not the first time he's left Katolis on short notice with zero concern, doing so in 4x03 (whereas Soren goes as Ezran's sworn crownguard, and Ezran hesitates) solely because Ezran is leaving. It happens again in 5x01 when Ez is away with Soren and Corvus on his dragon diplomatic mission, with Callum making the plan to leave for the Great Bookery the night before and leaving very early in the morning, even though he's currently the highest ranking person at court. We see Callum's discomfort at court first hand in his opening scene in 4x01, showing immediate wariness about his position as High Mage and his lack of mind to political matters:

GUARD: High Mage Callum, the King's council is assembling in the throne room. CALLUM: Oh, pfft, you don't need to call me that. I-I know it's my official title but all that high mage stuff is so... stuffy. Just call me my normal name, Prince Callum. Or just, y'know, just regular Callum. [...] Okay, I'm sorry, now I don't remember what you came here to tell me.

After which he immediately delays going to the meeting to check in on his magic book coming in from Xadia, though it hasn't arrived yet. Rayla's arrival causes Callum to oversleep and be MIA for Zubeia's greeting, leaving Ezran to momentarily flounder till Soren steps in, though no one seems surprised or concerned that Callum isn't there, just awkward. He doesn't go with Ezran to deal diplomatically with any of the dragons either, leaving it entirely in Soren and Corvus' hands, and he has no concern over leaving in 6x01 either, while Ezran hides his sadness about all his friends leaving to go elsewhere (Soren and Zym for Zubeia, and Callum and Rayla for the Starscraper). He and Rayla go rogue over Janai's orders as well, leaving Janai to reflect, "I may be queen, but even I don't have the power to stop those two once they set their mind on something," which is such blatant foreshadowing it felt like neon lights were flashing in my face.

We see this thread steadily even from 1x01, whereupon Callum only reaffirms Harrow is the king as a wall up to thinking of himself as his son. Harrow being royalty was a hindrance to Callum being comfortable of thinking about him on an interpersonal level, not a help:

EZRAN: Why don't you just call him Dad? CALLUM: Because he's the king. And I'm his stepson.

which is also why Ezran talking about the burden of kingship with him in 7x02 goes over Callum's head, because Ezran isn't actually focusing on the fact their father is dead; he's focusing on how it forced Ezran to be king, and being king is so the opposite to how Callum operates, it was never going to click.

EZRAN: Our king. Our father. [Takes off his crown] I never asked for this. I wasn't ready to be a king. I'm just a kid.

And one of the reasons I say the opposite is because of everything laid out above, patterns wise, but also because of his Tales of Xadia bio, which states:

I'm beholden to my inner circle, not some silly kingdom.

There are also scenes from Dreamer's Nightmare which help reaffirm this, where Ezran states that "As princes of Katolis, it's our duty to put you all [citizens of the town] first," only for Callum 1-3 pages later argue for the complete opposite, because:

EZRAN: [When Callum wants to wait for their dad / the adults to wake up and solve things for the town] I'm going either way, but I'd really like to have someone come with me. Someone who's good at solving mysteries. CALLUM: Fine, I'll go. But only because I'm your big brother.

EZRAN: The whole town is in danger, Callum! Let me go! CALLUM: No! I have to keep you safe! I promised King Harrow [...] but I keep failing, and I'm just so scared you'll get hurt.

I don't think either of these supplementary materials are necessary though, to get this aspect of his across, given that scenes like this were written well before the latter came out, and Callum's entire Tales of Xadia bio just reaffirmed exactly how I and many others have seen him since S1 came out:

"And Ez doesn’t need my help,” Callum added more cheerfully. “If he needed me, he’d say so.” He said it with so much confidence it took Soren a second to tell if it was a joke or not, but no. The young mage honestly believed it. How was a good question, and the answer would’ve been more so, given everything. Those first few months after the war were crystal clear in Soren’s mind: Ez weathering the political waves alone, wearily drafting peace treaties and legislations while Callum scoured Xadia, searching for Rayla and growing more and more irate every time he returned home empty handed. The way Ezran had single handedly held him together, Callum unable or unwilling to truly confide in anyone but his brother. How Ezran had let Callum hole up with that stupid mirror for hours on end rather than eliciting magical solutions to everyday problems, because at least he was focusing on something other than heartbreak. How many council meetings Callum had skipped or been late to, never operating as acting-king when Ezran was away on diplomatic business. Callum’s temper on his 16th birthday reigning summer storms down on the castle for weeks straight. His lateness to Ezran’s meeting with Zubeia that Soren had stepped in for; the way it had been him and Corvus, not Callum, accompanying the young king to his entreatment of the dragons and Domina Profundis. Ezran’s steady, strong nature, the way he could be so silent and quiet it was easy to forget how young he was sometimes and how much he’d been through, how much he’d missed their friend and father and his childhood. It’s not fair you have to struggle through this alone.  “Yeah,” Soren said quietly. “Sure.” 

Callum does not care about being crown prince or high mage. He isn't focused on supporting Ezran as king; he's focused on supporting Ezran as Ez, as his brother. Those are separate things from being Harrow's son and Ezran's brother, even if they can overlap. He cares about Katolis on a certain level, yes, but not on a big one; he cares about it because he cares about Ezran. And Ezran asking Callum to stay in the meeting as High Mage was never going to work. If Ezran had asked him to stay as his brother, maybe — but Ezran doesn't.

CALLUM: I'm sorry, Ezran. I can't be your High Mage anymore. But I'll always be your brother.

And in typical Callum fashion, whether he goes back to being high mage remains to be seen, but he does put in the majority of the effort in their actual reconciliation. He approaches Ezran first, he's the one walking over, and the one who speaks first.

CALLUM: Hey. EZRAN: [Uncertainly] Hi. CALLUM: So I've been thinking about this toy banther I had when you were just a baby. I loved it more than anything in the world, and you broke it. EZRAN: And... you're bringing this up now? CALLUM: I was so mad. I said I hated you, and I would hate you forever. And Mom said that it was okay to be angry, but I couldn't let the bad feelings stick. Because we were going to need each other. Because we're brothers. I still need you, Ezran. I know it's been a hard time, but I really hope—

Callum loved that toy more than anything, and Ezran broke it, and he got over it, because he loves Ezran more. He's saying it's okay for Ezran to be angry (x2) and it's okay if Ezran hates him. Just that even if Ezran is, and even if Ezran does, Callum still loves him and needs him and considers him his brother. That he hopes they can reconcile.

And Ezran accepts it—much to Callum's surprise and then relief— because he never needed his high mage. He needed his brother, and that's what Callum still is—what they'll always be.

EZRAN: I need you, too. CALLUM: Brothers. EZRAN: Brothers.

Conclusion

Back when they were both children, Callum and Ezran didn't have anything to put above each other and the immediate proximity of their bond. However, the events in the first 3 seasons change this forever. Callum finds magic and falls in love, and Ezran returns home to be king, and gains Zym and his council as constant supports.

Ezran puts going home to be king above continuing to travel to Xadia. From there, they spend more and more time and seasons apart. This is similar to Soren and Claudia, who have an increasingly fractured bond, but who also know aren't doomed to be miserable because of their separation or betrayal; they forge new friendships, bonds, and sources of laughter. But neither set of siblings ever forget their love for each other, even if they grow and their priorities expand to include other things. For Ezran, Zym and his kingdom are incredibly important to him; for Callum, Rayla and the life they're building together, as well as stopping Ezran (or anyone) from causing permanent unnecessary harm to one another in their little family is also a priority.

None of this is to say that Callum's way of dealing with things is flawless, or that they won't have more conflict again in the future (I'd love it, although I expect there to be more of a focus on Ezran-Zym conflict going forward) but being a little flaky/unreliable in a political sense is just who Callum is, even if he will always come through on the personal manner in the end.

Sibling relationships are complicated, and they can both mutually fail each other and Rayla, and then still come back together in the end. And I'm very glad that they do.

Other fun details:

Callum's letter refers to the dragons as big help, a gentle nod to how Ezran described them in 3x08

Callum confirming that he babysat Ezran regularly growing up, which fits with Callum's tug of war between being a parentified older brother with his own immature / peer adjacent sides

Callum sits closer to Ezran at the council table once he's no longer high mage, whereas before he always sat further apart

Ezran is symbolically embroiled with fire throughout the season (king of ashes, the fire ruby plan, the Nova Blade having the risk of setting the world on fire, the fire in his eyes that are meant to parallel Aaravos' etc). Callum is associated with water, nabbing Rayla's water reflection motif in later episodes, and with greater emphasis on his connection to the ocean arcanum in spell usage and its links in dark magic. The two then meeting in the middle is interesting symbolically, to say the least.

[fandomtrash-whataboutit]

Gonna draft this as I go through The Golden Raven today as I don’t want to make twenty million posts

Major the Golden Raven Spoilers ahead (obviously)

He’s dead!! Thank the lord, he’s dead

Jean is a Trojannnnnn i love seeing the babes take care of him

I want to know what ‘incident’ made Jeremy’s siblings resent him so much. Obviously they’re all just unrepentant narcissists, but like holy fuck

Every time Jean’s thoughts stray even slightly toward Neil, you know something hilarious is about to happen

Someone finally said it ,there is no more perfect court!!

‘You’re Jean Moreau. Perfect freaking court. What do you mean it’s not fun?’

You can’t just drop this shit in Nora i dont need reminders that Jean thinks Jeremy is super hot (i love every second of it)

Im sorry the confirmation that moriyama BEAT a freshman to DEATH holy fuckkkk

But also please give Jean a baby. He needs a baby. If you wont give me vice-captain Neil then give me this

Derek and Derrick my beloveds

“Sometimes they brought us fruit” i need to hunt down every adult involved in the Ravens for sport

Oh i didn’t even THINK of Jean saying Jeremy’s voice all French-like (‘I bet he hit his knees the first time you said it’ oh my goddddd Cody)

Jean Moreau bisexual icon??? WE WIN THESE

Oh god please tell me Jeremy wasn’t a witness to his brother’s death or something i couldn’t bear that being the reason

“Jean looked baffled as Xavier tried to explain top surgery to him”

AARON MINYARD IS CLEARED OF ALL CHARGES

ANDREWWWWWWWWWW

Kevin knows exactly what Neil did and he’s SO tired (also ‘the freshman have united against him’ is AMAZING)

Jean & Cat hug just put me in the grounddddddd

Nooooo tell me Jeremy’s brother didn’t KILL himself and now his family BLAMES him for not fucking stoping him AHHHHHJ

Oh god oh shit i just Jeremy’s backstory AUGHHH

And jean’s reaction after whatever the guy’s name was and Jeremy im screaming crying throwing up and not in a good way

Don’t tell me its always been Jeremy! Do NOT tell me that Jean’s been enamored with him from the start and it’s just one more thing Riki punished him for!! I wouldn’t be able to take it if you told me that!! NO WAIT ITS KEVIN DONT GIVE ME KEVJEAN AnGST PLEASEEEEE

But Jean realizing with startling clarity why the Trojans play the way they do might heal me. Just pls let it be enough to heal him

JEAN IS PLAYING LIKE A TROJAN

(|_> HAVE A WINNING DAY BITCH)

RHEMANN FOR THE WINNNNNN HE FUCKING DECKED ZANE BEFORE HE COULD EVEN SAY IT HOLY SHIT THIS IS AMAZING

HE FINALY BROKE DOWN!! I’m heartbroken for sure but this is always what’s needed, he needed to break. I underestimated Rhemann’s importance here it’s nice to see a consistent adult presence in Jean’s life be positive for the first time ever

Oh Jean needs to be a farmer

“Better to be reckless fools than Ravens” YEEEEESSSSSSS

“I Deserve to get better” YES YES YES YES YESSSSSSSSSSS HOLY SIHT LETS GOOOOOOO

confidence and security look so good on Neil by the way. Im so damn happy for him.

Okay Nora knows her audience she out here giving us MULTIPLE ‘the master’ reveals (it means jean is closer with his teammmm)

Ohhhhhh Foxes and Ravens brawl I LOVE to see andreil backing each other up. And ofc Dan Wilds, the woman herself, attempting murder. As she should.

Jean thinks of himself as a broken monster but to Jeremy he is nothing but a kind heart. That’s it. Someone end me.

Jean now being offended at how empty the lofts feel…

JAB MOREAU

THE RULES HAVEE CHANGED

I’m coming down from an insane high because I;m lucky that my strongest hyper fixation in years hit me a week before a new book came out and now i can’t process that it’s over and it’ll prolly be 1-2 years before the next book but regardless… @korakos thank you for everything, these books and Neil and Jean and all the foxes and Trojans mean so much to me

(I’ll be posting way more tomorrow but im liegit tweaking out right now so no coherent thoughts for you)

[blightbright]

Solas fandom and "genAI"

I recently came back to Tumblr 99.9% because life is stressful and I'm autistic and special interesting about Solas, but I never could keep my mouth shut so... re: so-called "genAI" in fandom spaces:

I say so-called because it is neither truly generative nor intelligent, and it is not really artificial: it is created with the real stolen efforts of living people and real environmental exploitation

I have little interest in blaming everyday individuals (except CEOs, political leaders, billionaires, etc) for the harms of the most popular "genAI" tech, because it's a systemic problem

"genAI" is intentionally confusing and it's ok if people are genuinely ignorant, at first, of how it works or the harm

I also have loved ones who disagree with me

THAT SAID, I urge people to learn more about and consider the harms to society, other people, and one's own process of self-expression, learning, and creativity from the use of "genAI"

I can't control your behavior but I can tell you that your messiest, most "OOC," error-ridden rough draft, or your most wonky-proportioned stick figure fan art is infinitely more precious, valuable, and emotionally, culturally, and spiritually significant than an unintelligent plagiarism algorithm doing it for you, even if it gets less hits/kudos at first. don't give up hope: your own art means something. I encourage you to make fandom a heartfelt space of resistance!

it is important for communities to define boundaries of unacceptable behavior (i.e. use of non-gen AI spellcheck, Google Translate, "genAI" rewrite functions, character "chats," plot/outline "generation," full-blown "generated" pieces... IMO, I'm fine with the first, uneasy but ok with the second, and the rest I actively oppose)

in the absence of clear boundaries, transparency is key! please publicly and clearly disclose ANY use of "genAI" at ANY stage of the process for fan works, because concealment of this is disrespectful and hurtful. if you didn't know before, such is life. now you know.

avoid all bad faith arguments about shipping wars and witch hunts. you have nothing to fear from posts uncovering AI if you do not use undisclosed "genAI": the two works in question did. you have many things to fear from unchecked "genAI" use if you are a writer, artist, or someone who needs our planet to stay alive

the work @durgeapologist, @fangbanger3000, and others have done to raise awareness about "genAI" use in popular fan works is extremely valuable, difficult work, and does not need to be perfectly worded to be earnest, meaningful, and ultimately beneficial for fan communities

bonus point, sponsored by autism: Solas as a character draws on figures from Norse lore including Loki, god of many things including callouts and criticism of powerful systems; Odin, god of words, wisdom, poets, and uncontrollable creative inspiration; and Fenrir, wolfpup god of surviving trauma, seeking praise and social approval from the powerful only for it to result in pain, raging against the system, and freedom. IMO, if I want any character to rally people together for the sake of resisting billionaire tech companies when possible and celebrating old-fashioned creativity, it's Solas. it's in his story's DNA. whoever we want him to smooch.