#AGAIN I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG

[the-gray-ghosty]

Sam trauma fics please!!! Anything with hallucifer/lucifer/demon blood just anything lmao

Thank you bestie<3

I am SO sorry this took so long bestie!! @ghost-go-roasty-mctoasty

I have SO many sam trauma fics bookmarked, so I'm going to rec specifically some of the hallucifer/lucifer/demon blood ones for you!

Through the Devil Softly by siamesedreams, hallucifer/implied/referenced noncon (no smut), gencest samdean, dean taking care of Sam as he suffers through anxiety attacks and ptsd from hallucinations in s7

Convalescence by impravidus, post!cage sam through the eyes of outsiders. Hallucifer and very protective dean

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand by ad_castra

"5 times dean comforts sam by holding his hand (and one time he doesnt). Sam detoxing from demon blood, hallucinations, trials of hell, this fic goes through different times of sam trauma and sam having mental health issues

Leaning out for love by angelshotgun

Sam's been detoxing for years, but his powers stayed. He hid them from dean for years, but when Sam is sick dean finds out.

Help is never far away by wolfcry22

Sam gets dosed with demon blood against his will and has to detox again, but he also has the flu. Protective dean and Bobby, and ofc sam angst and pain

Through the Devil Softly by siamesedreams

Hallucifer, where Sam can't tell whats real and what's not. Sam has panic attacks and ptsd, with protective Dean and WINCEST (but no sex, just cuddling and protectivness)

Catching my death (staring out an open window) by ad_castra

Hallucifer/post cage sam and castiel, with enochian speaking sam and castiel, protective castiel and dean and unstable hurt sam

Trialculosis Sam by fogsrollingin

This is one of my favorite fanfictions of all time. The trials of hell are pretty much killing sam, and dean is trying his best (most of the time) to do his best to help sam. This has queerplatonic samdean, with hugging and comfort and lots of tears and hurt sam!

Buried at Sea by shadowhuntingdauntlessdemigod

With no leads on the darkness, sam and dean tour the queen Mary ship in long beach california. But when sam and dean are seperated, and a ghost locks sam inside an old cage elevator, post-cage hell trauma comes out. Poor sam! Lots of protective dean.

Hiraeth by inkandpaperqwerty

Season 4, when Sam and dean sre separated after dean finds out about the demon blood, sam overdoses on his antidepressants. Suicidal!Sam calls dean, and dean comes to his aid. Protective dean and very protective bobby, and a little bit anti castiel at the begining (he's kind of a jerk, but he does care about sam in his own way).

Let me know if any of the links dont work!! :)

[atlabeth]

tis the damn season part 4 - rafe cameron

part 3 | masterlist | part 5

a/n: okay so. first of all im so so SO sorry that it has literally been a year since the last part. i said it wasnt going to take a month for this to come out and i guess i was right because a year isn't a month lmao. it's not even christmas season anymore but i just could not stop thinking about this all of a sudden so here we are again. i hope you guys still want this lmao.

it was just really hard for me to get through the cameron family part, i love writing sarah but for some reason i just could not get a handle on ward and rose. not a surprise that yn and rafe meeting in the library was the part that i flew through

anyways enjoy. sorry for it being a year since the last part and it not being christmas anymore<3 im a great and responsible writer. also because it has been so long i completely understand if you dont want to be on the taglist anymore, so just lmk and ill take you off!

wc: 7k

warning(s): the dreaded parent dinner. rose and ward being judgmental and yn being insecure ya know the vibes. but also a lot of fluff too

“How drunk are you?” 

“Sober enough to get through this night,” Rafe said. “How high is your bullshit tolerance?” 

“High enough to get through this night,” you repeated, and he smiled. 

“Alright.” Rafe took a deep breath then nodded, and the two of you got out of his car. You handed him his keys and he, after putting them in his pocket, slipped his hand into yours as you started walking towards the house. The motion was starting to feel more natural than it should. “Rose’ll probably want my help setting up for dinner as an excuse to talk to me about you, but my dad will most likely be in his office until we’re done, so you don’t have to worry about another one-on-one thing.” 

“I can handle that,” you said. “It’ll be easier in front of the rest of your family. But before we go in—” you turned to look at him, a slightly teasing smile on your lips. “I think we should talk about all that stuff your friends said back there.”

Rafe sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry about that. I promise, they were just exaggerating to embarrass me.” 

“No, it’s fine,” you chuckled. “I like your friends; they were a lot different than I was expecting, but they were actually really cool. I just… well, I wanted to make sure it wouldn’t change anything with this.”

“No, no—” Rafe laughed a little as well and brushed it off with his hand. “Okay — all cards on the table, I did have a crush on you freshman year. But that was just freshman year, and now it’s gone! We’re— we’re just friends. I feel nothing for you anymore.” 

You gave him a look. “Nothing?” 

Rafe rolled his eyes playfully. “You know what I mean.” 

“Just teasing you,” you agreed with a smile. “But it’s good to know that there is absolutely nothing between us. I mean, you did promise not to fall in love with me.” 

Rafe nodded seriously. “Of course. And you promised not to fall in love with me, so you can’t falter either.” 

You placed your fist over your heart. “Hope to die.” 

He snorted a laugh and tugged on your hand to get you walking again. “You’re so lame.” 

“And you had a crush on me when I was even lamer,” you teased. But before you could do anymore, Rafe was saved by the bell as he opened the door and pulled you inside with a wink back at you. 

“Rose, we’re home!” he called as he shut the door behind you. You heard the clatter of silverware in the distance followed by clicking heels on the tiled floor, and soon enough a blonde woman with an unnaturally bright smile came around the corner.

Her eyes lit up when she saw you and she said your name. “You must be the girlfriend!”

You offered a smile of your own and nodded. “In the flesh. It’s so nice to— oh!“

You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence as she pulled you into a hug, and Rafe just gave you a knowing smile in response to your widened eyes. 

“It‘s so nice to meet you too,” she gushed, and when she finally let go she kept her hands on your shoulders. “We’ve all tried to drill Rafe for information about you these past couple days, but he refused to open up — you can imagine how happy I am to finally get to meet ‘the girlfriend’.”

You laughed a bit at her mimed quotation, nodding along to her words. If only she knew how right she really was. 

“I feel the same about meeting you all.” To drive home the point you reached for Rafe’s hand, and without hesitation he took it. “Rafe and I are really happy together, so I thought— we thought that it would be a good time for this to happen.”

Rose grinned and as she started walking, the two of you followed her. “Well, it is an absolute pleasure to have you here for the holidays. I’m sure Rafe has hardly been able to hold himself back from showing you everything Kildare has to offer.”

“Uh, yeah,” he piped in. “We just went to the country club and met up with Kelce and Topper, and we took the scenic route back. You liked it, right?”

You nodded. “It was great. Everything here is, really — your house, the beaches, the nature, the Outer Banks as a whole, it’s all beautiful. I can’t believe this is my first time visiting.” 

Her eyebrows shot up as you all finally reached the kitchen, a mess of measuring cups, bowls, and a myriad of other kitchen supplies scattered around the island table. All it took was a gesture of her head for Rafe to let go of your hand and get to work with tidying up the area. You made a mental note to ask her how to acquire that kind of power. 

“You’ve never been here?” she asked, and you shook your head. You didn’t know why that was so surprising to both his parents. “Well, that just means you have the chance to see everything with fresh eyes.” 

“I’m looking forward to it,” you smiled. 

Rafe gave you a warning look, one you knew very well that was telling you to stop talking, before he focused back on his stepmom with a smile. “We can handle the rest of this, right? Y/N can go relax a little in my room before dinner — uh, she didn’t sleep very well.” 

Rose rolled her eyes, but the amusement was clear in her expression. “Fine. I’ll save the grilling for dinner.” 

You gave her a polite nod as you turned to go, but when Rose wasn’t looking you mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Rafe that he answered with a smug smile. She was nicer than you had imagined, but you didn’t think you could handle all of her questions in addition to a family dinner. You had a feeling you were going to need every advantage you could get for tonight. 

It just so happened though, that as soon as you turned the corner, you ran into Rafe’s younger sisters. You wondered if they always traveled as a pair. 

“You guys are back already,” Sarah said with a pleasant smile, and you chuckled. 

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded. “We just went out for lunch with his friends at the country club.” 

Wheezie groaned as she leaned against the wall. “Kelce and Topper? God, they’re the worst.” 

You frowned a bit. “I actually thought they were pretty nice. They like teasing Rafe just as much as I do, so it’s a plus.” 

She shrugged. “I’m surprised they were so nice to you. A lot of people on this side of the island wouldn’t be that way towards you.” 

“Wheezie!” Sarah scolded with a jab to her shoulder, but that only knit your brows further. 

“What are you talking about?” you asked, and Sarah sighed. 

“I’m guessing Rafe hasn’t really told you about the inner workings of the Outer Banks,” she said dryly, and you nodded. “Well…” she trailed off, and then shook her head. “It’s not the right time, and I don’t really think it should come from us. I don’t really want you to get all in your head right before the big dinner interrogation.” 

“Are you always this mysterious with your brother’s girlfriends?” you asked after a beat of silence.

Sarah smiled as she started to back up. “How else am I supposed to keep my younger sister allure?”

“It’s not allure if you’re so open about it,” Wheezie said as she rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna go get some lemonade, want any?”

Sarah shook her head, and then she looked to you.

“Oh— uh, no. Thank you.”

Wheezie chuckled a bit. “Don’t act so surprised that we wanna get to know you. You’re pretty cool in terms of Rafe girlfriends.” 

As she walked off, you turned to Sarah with an amused look. “Is she always like that?”

“It just means she likes you,” Sarah said with a smile. “And for the record, I do too.”

You stood there smiling at the ground for far too long after Sarah had already gone off on her own. They were charming in a very likable way, even if they did have their quirks. 

At least your fake boyfriend’s sisters liked you — now, you just had to get his parents on your side.

-

“So…” Rose glanced over at Rafe with a smile as he mashed potatoes. “Are you gonna give me anything, or do I have to wait for dinner?” 

He chuckled. “I think we can wait for dinner. She’ll be happy to tell you all about herself then.” 

“You’ve been together for almost three years and we barely know anything about her!” she exclaimed. “What’s the reason for that kind of secrecy?” 

Rafe bit the inside of his cheek, suddenly very interested in the potato masher. “We just wanted to make sure that we were solid before we started telling people outside of our friend group,” he said. “I… I really like her, so I wanted it all to go well.” 

She raised her eyebrows. “You both wanted to keep it a secret, or just she did?” 

He frowned. “We both did. Why does it matter?” 

“She’s not like us,” Rose said after a moment of hesitation, and Rafe’s grip tightened against the handle. “How do you know she’s not just using you for your money?”

“Excuse me?” He turned to her with an incredulous expression, the thought so ridiculous to him that he could hardly even deal with it. “You’re not seriously calling my girlfriend a gold digger, are you?” 

“It is a valid concern!” she defended, her voice becoming slightly higher from his reaction. “You’ve seen the way she looks at the house, the way she marvels at everything down here — for god’s sake Rafe, she’s never even been to the Outer Banks and she lives a couple hours away. Why else would she want to keep the two of you a secret?” 

“Okay,” he said with a dry laugh, setting down the masher and walking over to the sink to wash his hands off. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Just because she’s not crazy rich like every other person on Figure Eight doesn’t mean she’s after me for money. We’ve been friends even longer than we’ve been dating— I was the one who asked her out first. She’s actually a good person, Rose—and no matter what, you can’t insult her like that. She’s,” he swallowed and turned away for a second, “she’s my girlfriend. So you can’t say this kinda stuff about her.” 

Rose stared at him for a moment before she sighed. “Okay. At least you actually care about her.”

“Of course I do,” he scoffed.

“I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into,” she said, once again on the defensive. “You’ve always been hasty—”

“Do you want my help with this or do you just want to keep talking shit about her?” Rafe interrupted, his voice rising out of frustration. “Because if you keep this up you’re gonna be doing it alone.”

“Watch your mouth, Rafe,” she said, though mostly for virtue’s sake. “You just can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“There’s nothing to warn me about,” he said sharply. “She’s a great person, and she’s one of my best friends. So lay off.”

She raised her hands, finally conceding. “Okay. You win.” 

Rafe rolled his eyes, but he still moved onto his next job. That didn’t change the fact that the rest of their preparations were done in silence. 

-

You spent your time alone in Rafe’s room very valuably — after relaxing for a little, you found Topper and Kelce’s instagrams and immediately started stalking them. 

It was valuable, to be fair — you got to see pictures of Rafe when he was in high school, and some videos of him being the idiot he’d warned you about when you went through their pinned stories. They made you smile, seeing him like that — just from the pictures you could tell that he was a frat boy in training, but he was charming in a boyish sort of way. You also knew you would’ve completely fallen for high school Rafe if the two of you met at that age.

You cleared your throat as you shut off your phone and put it face down on the bed. Thank god for the distance between you then, because thoughts like that were definitely off limits. 

It was just in time, because you heard a knock on the door and Rafe saying your name. 

“Uh, come in!” you responded, and he came in the door as you sat up. 

“Dinner’s all ready, if you’re ready.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, and you stood up from his bed as you smoothed out your dress. “This is fine for the first dinner with your family, right? How do I look?” 

Rafe looked you up and down, his eyes raking across your body in the most exaggerated way possible as he whistled. “Babe, you look great. Super hot.” 

You burst out into laughter at that, and he even cracked a smile. “You are completely ridiculous, Rafe. You cannot act this way in front of your parents.” 

He brushed his hand through the air. “They can deal with it. My fake girlfriend’s only getting the best.” 

You shook your head, a smile of your own growing. “Like I said: completely ridiculous.” 

“I try.” Rafe’s grin faded a bit as he looked back at the door, and after a moment he shut it. He then turned back to you, his expression completely sobered. “I’m gonna be completely honest with you. This might be rough.” 

You frowned a bit. “Rough in what kind of way?” 

“Rough in a ‘making you doubt everything about yourself’ kinda way,” he said, and he sighed as shook his head. “Rose and I—we talked while we were setting everything up, and she thinks you’re some kind of golddigger. And,” Rafe huffed a dry laugh, “my dad’ll probably think the same thing. He’ll be a lot more covert with it, though.” 

“Great,” you muttered, and you suddenly felt very self-conscious as you wrapped your arms around yourself. A part of you itched to put Rafe’s sweatshirt back on, the familiarity of it a comfort you were suddenly aching for. But you remained in place, letting out a deep sigh instead. “I thought you said that both of them were from blue collars before they ended up with all this.” 

“They were,” Rafe confirmed, “but they’ve gone full kook over the years. They look down on the very same people they used to be, and… they’re probably gonna look down on you too.” 

“Great!” you repeated, and you felt the heat rush to your cheeks. You and Rafe weren’t together so it shouldn’t have bothered you, the thought of not having his parents’ approval, but it was just the opposite. “That’s— that’s just great, Rafe.” 

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer, “hey, it’s okay. I don’t want you to worry about them. Just— just be yourself, and we will make them like you. And if they say any out of pocket shit, don’t just take it, call them out on it. And if you don’t want to, I will.” Rafe gave you a genuine look. “I won’t let them do what they do to everyone else.” 

You recalled your conversation with Ward earlier in the morning, when he, out of nowhere, told you that he didn’t think you were a good fit in Rafe’s life. The man barely knew you and he was already trying to scare you out of it. 

And for some reason, just the thought of that brought your resolve back. If there was one thing you had in spades, it was spite.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded, offering a smile that you hoped was convincing. “Right. We got this.” 

“We got this,” he agreed, and he offered his hand. “You ready, fake girlfriend?” 

You nodded again and took his hand, reveling in the warmth it provided as he squeezed your hand. “Ready, fake boyfriend.” 

-

“There you two are,” Rose joked as you and Rafe entered the dining room together. “I was beginning to think you decided to abandon us.” 

“I wouldn’t let him do that,” you said with a smile. “I’m just sorry we didn’t get to do this last night.” 

“Oh, I am too,” she agreed, and she finished setting the last platter on the table. “I’m sorry that it’s taken us three years to finally have a family dinner.” 

“Me too,” Wheezie said, looking up at you as she finished setting down the silverware. “I still don’t know what you see in him, but whatever.” 

“Louisa, be nice.” You instinctively tensed up as Ward walked in, and you returned the gesture when he smiled at you. “We’re all happy to have you here, and we’re all sorry it took so long.” He looked at Rafe pointedly. “You should’ve brought her down sooner, Rafe.” 

“We’ve already talked about this, Dad,” Rafe said. “We weren’t ready before, but now we are. You guys have to deal with that.” 

“He just didn’t want to scare her off with his crazy family,” Sarah said dryly as she walked in, a stack of plates in her hands that she placed on the table.  “Probably a good decision with all this interrogating.” 

“I don’t mind,” you said, and it wasn’t completely a lie. You and Rafe might not have been together, but you were best friends. It was probably a good thing you were meeting his family, even if it was under this sort of guise. You laughed a bit. “I’d want to know about my son’s secret girlfriend too if I were you.” 

“Well, you’re welcome here anytime you want, sweetie,” Rose said. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for.” She set the final dish on the table and held her hands out. “Feel free to help yourself.” 

“It all looks wonderful, honey,” Ward said, pecking his wife on the cheek as he took his seat at the head of the table. 

Your nerves evaporated slightly as you sat down, reveling in the silence you probably wouldn’t get much of as everyone served themselves. You were immediately proven right as Rose looked at you with a smile. 

“So,” she said your name, “Rafe tells me you’re looking to become a doctor?” 

You nodded. “I’ve been working towards it since middle school. It’s hard to believe that I’m getting so close to med school.” 

“Are you applying?” Ward asked. 

“Not yet, but I’m looking,” you said, and you chuckled. “I thought I would get a break from all the medical stuff after I took the MCAT, but between school hunting and classes, I think it’s gotten even busier.” 

“She’s amazing,” Rafe said, “seriously. She and Melanie are both on pre-med tracks, and I swear, all they do is study.” 

“Mel parties sometimes,” you joked, “but… yeah. I’ve become really well acquainted with the library.” 

“That was actually how we met,” he said, glancing at you, and a smile immediately broke out on your lips. “Freshman year, remember?” 

“How could I ever forget?” 

/ 

You let out a haggard sigh as you held your head in your hands, staring at the textbook beneath you. You had an entire spread around you—laptop and charger, nearly empty water bottle, a bag of goldfish, a whole mess of highlighters and pens, and your bio 252 textbook open in front of you. You had been trying to read the same sentence for the past ten minutes, and your brain was not cooperating. 

You screwed your eyes shut as you leaned back in your chair, pressing your hands against your forehead. At this point, you wondered if you were losing brain cells.

“Hey, uh— is this seat open?” 

You cracked your eyes open to see a guy in sweatpants and a UNC tee standing, a backpack slung over one shoulder and very pretty eyes. 

“It’s 2:35 in the morning,” you said. “Half the library is open.” 

“I know, but,” he chuckled, “you look smart. I feel like being around you will make me do my work.” 

That got a dry laugh out of you, and you just shrugged. “Sit away, I guess. As long as you’re quiet.” 

He nodded and took a seat on the other end of the table, leaving enough space to be polite. “I’m Rafe, by the way.” 

You nodded as well. “Cool.” 

“What,” he said, setting his backpack on the ground, “I don’t get a name?” 

“If I survive these midterms, you can get my name,” you said wryly, and your focus fell back to your textbook. 

Though you couldn’t see him, you heard the smile in his words, could feel his eyes on you. “Deal.” 

/

“Never thought that you would be living the rom-com life, Rafe,” Sarah said, very tongue-in-cheek. “Makes sense that she was annoyed by you at first.” 

“To be fair, I was kind of losing my mind,” you said with a laugh. “Word of advice for your freshman year, Sarah, learn the meaning of school-life balance, and learn it before you’re knee deep in midterms.” 

She chuckled, nodding sagely. “You don’t have to worry about that. I won’t be in the library that late no matter what time of year it is.” 

“Very studious of you, Rafe,” Rose said, and she smiled. “What were you doing in there anyways?” 

He shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep, so I went to the library. Maybe it was fate.”

“I think it was just persistence,” you said dryly. “Because you came in every single night after that.” 

/

“This seat open?” 

You blinked at the voice, the words from your laptop screen swimming in the air as you looked back up. To your surprise, it was the same guy from the other day, with the same words. Rafe, if you remembered.

“Why are you here again?” 

“Because I took my econ midterm yesterday afternoon and killed it,” he said, “and I think it’s because you’re good luck.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “I’m good luck?” 

Rafe nodded. “My hypothesis is that being around you is giving me good luck, so I’m testing it by hanging around you before each of my midterms.” 

That actually got a laugh out of you. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” 

“It’s not stupid if it works, is it?” He set down his bag and shot you a grin. “Besides— I gotta make sure you get through the season alive so I can get your name.” 

You just shook your head, though you were unable to hide your own smile. “Fine. House rules still apply.” 

Rafe held up his hands. “Absolute silence. You got it.” 

Ten minutes passed in keyboard clacks and page turns before you couldn’t help yourself, and you looked back up at Rafe. 

“Are you really going to come here every night?” 

“As long as you’re here,” Rafe said, “I’m here.” 

/ 

“And he did,” you said. “He came back every night that week, sat in the same spot in complete silence, and we did our work together. At 2AM, no less.” 

“And I passed every single one of my midterms with flying colors,” he said. “I still think it’s because of you.” 

“That is so sweet,” Rose crooned. “Who knew our Rafe was such a charmer?” 

“Rose—” he started, his cheeks flushing, but you chuckled. 

“He certainly was,” you said. “Anyone else, and I think I might’ve kicked them out. But I couldn’t say no to those eyes.” 

And it’s not like you were lying—that really was how you met. It just wasn’t the love story that you were making it out to be. It was a week of the library, and then you didn’t see each other again until Melanie dragged you out to an end of the semester party—the party that Kelce mentioned, the party that you ran into Rafe again. 

That was certainly a night. And not one you could really detail at a family dinner. 

“If we have you to thank for Rafe’s performance in his freshman midterms, then I’m certainly in your debt,” Ward said with a slight smile. 

“I don’t think it was because of me,” you said. “I think it’s because he actually sat down and studied for once in his life.” 

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Say that all you want, but you’re my good luck charm. I know it.” 

“I assume that you’ve always done well in school?” Ward asked. 

“I have to,” you said honestly. “I’m on a huge scholarship at Chapel Hill, and if my grades drop below a certain point, it gets taken away. I literally can’t afford for that to happen,” you chuckled nervously, “not to mention the hit my career prospects would take.” 

“You seem really serious about all of this,” Ward said, and he clasped his hands together. “Why do you want to be a doctor so badly?” 

“It’s the only thing I can imagine myself doing,” you responded. “I’ve always loved science, and the human body has fascinated me even when I was a kid. Growing up, I’ve seen a lot of bad things happen to a lot of good people, and it’s… it’s just not fair. So I guess becoming a doctor would be my way of helping those people and putting some good back in the world.” 

“Oh, that is so sweet,” Rose said, her eyes softening. “Rafe, honey, you really picked a good one.”

Wheezie snorted a laugh. “Yeah. Now I know for a fact she’s too good for you.” 

“Louisa,” Ward admonished, and he looked back at you. “That’s a very noble goal. I can only imagine the hard work you’ve described is but a fraction of the full picture. I mean, my senior year was busy as all get-out, don’t get me wrong, but I was in business. Pre-med is a whole different thing to navigate.” 

“It is,” you agreed. “Right now I’m juggling classes and labs, an internship, a part time job, and trying to have a social life all at the same time.” You laughed a bit. “It’s a lot, and sometimes it gets overwhelming. But when that happens, I take a step back and try to remember what I’m doing all this for, and that almost always gets me back on track. And when it doesn’t—” you glanced at Rafe with a smile— “he’s always there for me.” 

Rafe returned your smile and took your hand under the table, and it filled you with some confidence. You certainly weren’t lying about the last part. 

“She’s amazing all on her own,” Rafe said. “I’m only her cheerleader.” 

“Maybe it wasn’t a good idea for you and Rafe to get together,” Sarah said, frowning. “You’re setting the bar way too high.” She looked at her parents. “I hope you don’t expect me to do all that when I get to college.” 

“You’ll do whatever you have to do, sweetie,” Rose said with a smile. “I’m sure you had to work up to all of this.” 

“Oh, definitely,” you nodded. “I applied to get into my high school’s health science specialty center in eighth grade, and it all went from there. It’s always busy, but it’s the most fulfilling work someone can do.” 

“Are you sure you can handle it?” Ward asked. His tone was noncommittal, but you knew what he was after. You weren’t going to give it to him. 

“Dad—” Rafe started, glancing at you for a second, but you spoke up. 

“I’ve been working towards this since my freshman year of high school. Everything’s gone to plan up until now, and I don’t plan for that to change.” Both your smile and your grip on Rafe’s hand tightened. “I know I can handle it.” 

“Well,” he said, his eyes far too calculating as he looked right at you, “I wish you all the best.” 

“Thank you,” you said smoothly. 

The tension at the table had been steadily rising ever since Ward looked in your direction, and it was starting to get to you. Rafe, as attentive as ever, immediately took over. 

“Dad,” he said, drawing the attention back to him, “we did an investment project in my 407 course for the final. It was actually really interesting, and my professor said that my group had one of the best projects she’s seen in her career. Do you wanna hear about it?” 

“Sure.” The smile he offered to his son was the same you’d seen since the moment of your arrival, and some of the pressure dissolved from your shoulders. You made a mental note to thank Rafe profusely at the end of the night. “Your professor was Dr. Waters, right?” 

He nodded. “She said you know each other.” 

“We do,” he said, and you felt like you could breathe again as he looked away from you. “I’d love to hear it, son.” 

Rafe wasn’t lying when he said he was skilled at navigating the waters of his family, because he kept the limelight off of you for the entire rest of the dinner. He talked about his own classes and directed it towards his sisters, and though you chimed in to answer the occasional question or add to one of his stories, you didn’t feel like your entire life was on blast. 

You and Rafe ended up helping Rose clean up, and she smiled at you as you handed her a plate. 

“Tonight was lovely, sweetie,” she said. “I can’t wait to hear about everything you accomplish in the future.” 

“You’re too kind,” you said, biting back a smile that was actually genuine. “I really enjoyed tonight.” 

“I’m glad.” She started the dishwasher and sighed as she looked at you. “I know my husband can be heavy-handed sometimes, but it’s not personal, trust me. We want the best for Rafe—Ward just has his own way of showing it.” 

“C’mon, Rose,” Rafe grumbled. “You saw what he was doing, and you went along with it. That’s not okay.” 

“He wasn’t doing anything,” she said pointedly. “He wanted to know more about Y/N, so he asked her. That’s all.” 

“You know that’s not—” 

“Rafe,” you interrupted, and you held up your phone, “Mel’s calling. C’mon, let’s go catch her up on everything.” 

He hesitated as he looked at you, but you just raised your eyebrows a little bit and gestured towards the hallway. Rafe sighed and nodded, glancing back at his step-mother. 

“Rose—” 

“You two enjoy yourself,” she said. “Cleanup’s already almost done—thank you for your help.” 

“Of course,” you said. “Have a good night, Mrs. C— Rose.” 

She smiled and nodded, waving the two of you off as you practically dragged Rafe into the hallway. 

“What was that for?” he complained once you were in the safety of his room, door shut. 

“You were about to get into a completely unnecessary argument.” 

“I was defending your honor, babe,” he said austerely. 

You laughed a bit, shaking your head as you sat down on the side of his bed, and Rafe leaned against the wall. “And I appreciate it, Sir Cameron, but I want this to be as drama-free as possible. Don’t get into arguments with your parents for me.” 

“I get into arguments with my parents all the time,” he said. “Doing it for you makes it better.” 

“Rafe.” 

He sighed and shrugged. “Fine. Drama-free break.” 

“Thank you.” 

“But not if my dad starts coming for you like that again,” he added with a pointed finger. 

You chuckled and nodded. “Fine.” 

You then looked at the clock on his bedside table and blew out a loose sigh. “God, it’s way later than I thought. You, get on my phone and call Mel. I lied about her calling, but I actually do want to talk to her tonight, and she definitely wants to catch up with you. I’m showering and getting ready for the night.” 

“Aye aye, captain,” he said, catching your phone as you tossed it to him. “But you know you don’t have to change in private. I have a very big room.” 

You gave him a look as you grabbed your bag. “Very subtle, Rafe. Behave.” 

He laughed and went back to your phone as you shut the door. 

You went through your routine as usual, the warm water helping to relieve the tension that had built up in your muscles. It was nice to have some alone time after the rollercoaster that the day had been, from Kelce’s bombshell conversation to the choppy waters of Ward Cameron—you had no idea the Outer Banks were going to be so complicated. 

It was only two weeks. Two weeks, and then you and Rafe were back to being nothing more than roommates and friends. Easy. 

You dried yourself off when you were done and slipped into a pair of shorts and an old Raleigh tee. After finishing the rest of your night routine, you opened the door again, smiling a bit to see Rafe laying upside down on his bed on the phone. 

His eyes flickered over to you and he smiled as well as he sat up. “You can ask her that yourself, actually—she just got out. You’re goin’ on speaker, Mel.” 

She cheered your name and you laughed as you settled on the bed with Rafe, picking up the phone so you could look at the little Mel on your screen. “You already look great. The OBX air is good for you, I swear.” 

“Better than city air,” you chuckled. “How have you been? Are you devastatingly bored without Rafe and I?” 

“You know I am,” she said with mock austerity. “Ayden’s already gone back to Richmond, so I’m all on my lonesome. You guys are all the worst for leaving me.” 

“Sorry,” Rafe said. “Should’ve asked you to be my girlfriend too—then we all could’ve had a great time with my parents.” 

She snorted and shook her head. “I love you Rafe, but I prefer the empty apartment.” 

He shook his head with a sigh. “So mean to me.” 

“It’s for your own good,” she chided, and she looked back at you. “How’s he treating you? Like a queen, I hope.” 

You laughed. “Mel, I am seriously living the life of luxury here. His room is the size of our freshman dorm. Honestly, it’s probably the size of my apartment back home. I would be Rafe’s permanent fake girlfriend if it meant a house like this.” 

Rafe shrugged. “We do have a couple more holidays coming up.” 

“Joking,” you said, and you sighed. “His family is… something.” 

“I told you I would fight them for you!” he defended. “I am fully ready to argue with my dad for you, but someone said she doesn’t want me to defend her honor.” 

Mel laughed, her eyes twinkling. “You beautiful knight. At least you’re trying to protect my girl.” 

“Always,” Rafe said, and then he stood up from his bed. “I’m gonna get ready—don’t gossip about me.” 

You gasped, scandalized. “We would never.” 

“Perish the thought,” Mel said simultaneously. 

Rafe rolled his eyes with a smile as he left, and you picked up the phone. “He sure is something.” 

“Yeah,” Mel said, something in her voice, “he is. And now that we’re alone, we can gossip about him.” 

You chuckled and shook your head. “There’s nothing to gossip about. What did he even talk to you about?” 

“Just basic stuff,” she said. “Told me about Kelce and Topper, and said some very choice words about his dad. But he mostly just talked about you, which is why we get to talk about him.” 

You frowned a bit—you couldn’t help but wonder what that entailed. “What did he say?” 

“Nothing important,” she said, brushing it off. “So, how’s the gig? How’re you liking the Banks?”

“This honestly isn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” you admitted. “Sure, his dad can be a lot, but Rafe is great. He’s always making sure that I’m okay, and it’s really sweet. I think that I can maybe see what all those girls see in him.” 

“Oh, wow,” she said. “You’re already in the falling in love with him stage?” 

“No!” you exclaimed, maybe a little too hastily. “No, god— where did you get that from?” 

“Someone’s a little defensive—” 

“Mel,” you said, staring at the bathroom door hoping Rafe couldn’t hear the conversation, “I’m not in love with him. We’re friends that are fake-dating each other. There’s a very big difference.” 

“If you say so,” she mused. 

“You’ve been watching too many rom-coms,” you said dryly. “Enough about me—how’s holding down the fort?” 

“I already told you that it’s boring,” Mel said. “I’m going back to Charlotte in a couple days, but that is also boring, which is why I want to talk about you!” 

“And I already told you, there’s nothing to talk about!” you defended. “We had a chill night yesterday, I hung out with his friends this morning, and we had dinner tonight. Standard girlfriend stuff—nothing to worry about.” 

“Fine,” she relented, and she laid back on the sofa. “But you have to keep me updated on everything.” 

“Of course. Now, I know you were talking to some guy in November. How’s that going?” 

Mel went on for a while about the guy—his name is Paolo, he’s an engineering major, he’s the hottest man she’s ever seen, but she’s definitely not interested in him, along with a lot of other things—and while you were about to ask something else in a rare pause, you lost your chance when Rafe came out of the bathroom. 

Wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants with his hair still wet and messy in just the right way, you just stared at him. It was embarrassing how speechless you were.

“You good?” Mel asked, and that snapped you out of your reverie, but not before Rafe noticed you looking. 

He just shook his head. “Can’t compliment you but you can objectify me. Your hypocrisy is insulting, babe.” 

“I’m so sorry Rafe,” you said austerely. “I can hardly control myself around you, you’ve got to understand.” 

He sighed as he pulled a shirt on. “It’s a burden I’ve got to bear, unfortunately. But I’m strong enough to do it.” 

“Okay, you two are gross,” Mel said. “I would say get a room, but you have one, and I’m clearly overstaying my welcome. So I’m just gonna hang up. Have fun, lovebirds!” 

“Mel—” you started, but she was gone before you could continue. You laughed as you turned your phone off, glancing at Rafe. “Uh, sorry. You didn’t miss much, just her talking about some guy.” 

“Oh, Paolo!” Rafe nodded. “I introduced those two, actually. He was in my finance class last semester, and he talked about her a lot. I hope they work out.” He smiled a bit as he sat down next to you. “Mel and her dream guy aside, what d’you wanna do for the rest of the night? After the dinner you sat through, I think you deserve a break.” 

“How do you feel about watching TV and doing nothing?” you asked. 

“Sounds perfect.” Rafe leaned over and picked up the remote from the side table, flipping it over in his hands as he talked. “What are you feeling? Grey’s Anatomy?” 

“God, no. It’s not accurate, and I need at least one second where I’m not thinking about school.” 

He chuckled. “Then what d’you suggest?” 

“Law and Order,” you said, “but we pick a random season and start halfway through it.” 

“You know that’s not accurate either?” 

“I haven’t spent years going over the law,” you said, “therefore it’s accurate to me.” 

Rafe laughed and handed you the remote, shaking his head. “Sounds perfect. Want some popcorn?” 

“Nothing I love more than lawyers and popcorn,” you said. “Except for you, fake boyfriend.” 

Rafe pressed his hand to his heart as he went over to the door. “I feel the same way, fake girlfriend.” 

You started cracking up, and Rafe’s small smile sent heat rushing to your cheeks. “Oh, and the second drawer on my dresser has a bunch of sweatshirts in case you want one.” 

You frowned. “Why would I need one of your hoodies?” 

He shrugged. “You’ve been shivering this whole time.”

And he walked off, wholly nonchalant, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. 

Apparently, Rafe paid more attention than you thought. Even when there wasn’t an audience. 

You snapped yourself out of your reverie, wandering over to said drawer, and you rifled through until you found a suitable one. Nothing like being a walking advertisement for the Kenan-Flagler school. 

You pulled it on then settled against the pillows as you picked up the remote again. After a bit of scrolling you decided on season 13, episode 11, and Rafe came back in with a big bowl of popcorn right when the title card played. 

“Perfect timing,” you smiled. 

“I try,” he said, and he shut the door behind him as he sat down next to you. His gaze moved to your sweatshirt and he grinned. “Nice choice. I’ll make a business major of you yet.” 

“God, no,” you muttered, and he just laughed. 

The two of you settled in and got comfortable for a night of lawyers and detectives and murder and popcorn, fought over through swatted hands and playful shoves, and maybe it was something about the day that just had you not thinking clearly. 

Because you didn’t mind when your hands touched in the popcorn bowl, and you didn’t mind when he slung his arm over your shoulder, and you didn’t mind when you fell asleep on Rafe’s shoulder 23 minutes into episode 15. 

And Rafe didn’t really mind either.  

-

rafe does mind that it took a year for him to be seen again though. sorry man

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator

obx tags: @milkiane @lilgoddesshines @sexytholland

ttds tags: @aaleksmorozova @everyonesannoyedwithme @sunnysidee-up @onlygetaway @itsalexwin @hanniebee33 @grimesrheee @lurkymurker

[quixoticprince]

When your medic leaves to go pocket another man or something

[cobaltfluff]

suuuuper late pocky day akeshus ;w;

[doomedclockworkdotmp3]

heeyyy gaaanggg

the pose and the background of the album version (left) are based on oingo boingos only a lad album art. not cause i think he has anything to do with it but just cause ive been wantin to draw that pose for like. weeks and i didnt know who to put there. so why not my latest bug man.

[rox-of-iu]

my old blorbos are back in my brain

heart pirates my absolute beloved. shame theyre chillin somewhere in the ocean lol (do not mention the pre-time skip hats of penguin and shachi I'm still attached even tho its already been a million years since then)

anyway every time i remember that Law and Kid are assigned german and Scottish by Oda i gain one hundred years

[jokzs]

ough

[robinniko]

Have you done a follow forever? If not can you make a list? I am totally curious now after your tags. Also love that your blog is a mix of everything.

I have not done a follow forever!!! I am so excited you sent this bc I really wanted to do one!!!!!

@h-isforhome @coffeeisaritual @28cum @cantchangemypast @lamefights @bloodonthedrums @amsterdamlouie @louisarmpits @tommos @kieumy @officialghost @tryhoney @stoned-styles @ashleyyroses @munsonsuccubus @anchorandrope @crimsonfated @goldplated-disaster @stripesysheaven @dahliaaz @graveyarrdshift @srldesigns6277 @theeliampayne @nouies @enigmaticpink @enchantedlandcoffee @muppet4muppett @loverrrrrr17 @superscut @goodriddancegracie @maryoliveoil @taylorswiftaylor @aintmyjewelry @columbusswift @verdantsecretgardens @auswiftic @runwayblues @louisthiccsexyglitteryass @frolencewelch @whenyouvequitefinished @matrixrry @the-girl-almighty @abba-enthusiast @nicogayngelo @hazlouquitefinished @notsomeholylight @slutdick @sunflowerwemadeit @cuzimablogger @bloodmoonlich

i'm very sorry because I definitely forgot people but i love all my mutuals very much!!!! <3

[fernifox]

Could you sum up each of the strawhats' characters in one picture? Not symbolism or anything, just one frame of them being their glorious goofy selves, pretty please?

Hi! Sorry this took so long! They all care for each other so much, luffy causing problems by jumping on Zoro, Zoro and Sanji arguing, Sanji bringing snacks to the girls, Nami and Robin chatting away about whatever comes to mind, Usopp and franky tinkering on new tools for the crew, chopper tending to everyone’s health and playing with them, Brook playing soothing songs as they all enjoy the warmth of the sun, and Jinbe still learning the dynamics of the crew, watching over everyone like a doting dad.

I wanna color this eventually,,, I finished the background ages ago but it burnt me out so it took a bit before I got everyone lined properly.

[jazzzzzzhands]

Skating into the Groovy AU, Here Comes Julie!! Also known as WildFlower!! Oh she has skates, so she is so much more chaotic! She has boundless energy and loves dragging all of her friends onto the rollerblading rink for a very fun game!! (and the most wild of dancing!) Catch her and Groovy doing a lil hip bump as they pass eachother! Ty to my partner in crime for helping me to develop her design!! @sketchy-tour <3333 I would not have had such a vision without their help!

Ty ty for making me learn how to draw a braid because i am falling in love with drawing hair so muchhh OHH OHHH!! the only reason Julie is not in a dress, is because ! i already crossed her legs and i struggle to convey that under a dress ahahahaha! BUT Julie ABSOLUTELY goes into dress mode!!! She also has these

Oh she has such a wardrobe, I am sure of it!!

[zecoritheweirdone]

eyyyy,, guess who's been drawing more of that hc x msa au?

been making a lot of scene redraws/edits for the past few days,, buuut i'm not quite done with them yet,, so i'll prolly share them another time. until then- here's a lil pearl design! mostly made these to finalize her design,, since the next scene i'm doing involves lewis,, sksnsks.

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

if your still doing the prompt thing how about 17, 23, 25, 29 with power!bottom claire being stressed and intern!reader offering to help but don't have any sexual experience so claire teaches them

Thank you so much for sending this in! I'm so sorry it took so long to complete, life got very hectic, but I have it for you now! I hope I've done this request justice <3

Afterhours

Ship: Claire Debella x Reader

Summary: When you, an intern working at the governor's office, offer to stay with the governor while she works late into the night, you find yourself in a situation you have only ever fantasized of.

Word Count: 5.8k

Disclaimer: 18+ ONLY, minors dni

Warnings: smut, hints at dark!Claire, pet-names, praise kink, degradation kink, fingering, oral, first time, virgin reader, legal age gap, power imbalance, mommy kink, begging, implied subspace

It's an open secret at the office that Governor Debella is paranoid.

If the extreme vetting process to just simply become an intern is anything to go by, the woman could use some relaxation time.

After all, a single intern hardly would have the ability to take down the political powerhouse that Governor Debella is.

Or, that's what you think anyhow.

You knew you had been lucky to land the job, the experience and credentials that will pad up your resume and qualifications that will come from working here, but some days, all you can think about is how stressed the top boss constantly is.

Being a people pleaser, being a people fixer, you started to stay late, wanting to get as much work done as possible.

Sure, you're only a low level entry personnel, but what you do helps free up time for those above you to focus on more important things.

After a few weeks of being the last one in the office, Governor Debella notices.

“Don't you have someone to get home to? A boyfriend, or a pet, or something?”

You nearly topple back in your seat, startled by your boss’s boss’s boss’s boss (seriously there's a chain of command here, and you're merely a bottom feeder) not having heard her approach from behind.

“Governor!” You gasp, trying to recover. “Uh- I don't- I live with a few roommates, but they never care if I'm there or not. We're all very busy.”

Governor Debella frowns, and crosses her arms.

“There's no reason for you to be staying so late. You're an intern. You don't get paid overtime.”

You shrug.

“I don't have much else to do. Call it volunteer hours.”

(And god, doesn't that sound pathetic, especially because it's true.)

Her frown deepens.

“It's illegal for you to stay and work without pay.”

“Are you telling me I need to start going home at quitting time?”

The words spill from your mouth before you can think them through.

There's a moment of silence, and for a second you could swear it's hesitation on Governor Debella’s face.

“No.” She says, after a beat too long.

There's another, much longer silence.

You hate the quiet, and you find yourself breaking it.

“Then, er, what do you want me to do?”

Governor Debella blinks, and it draws your attention to the dark bags underneath her tired silvery-blue eyes, her makeup must having had rubbed off enough for it to begin to show.

You suddenly realize that perhaps it's just as exhausting for her as it is for everyone else to deal with her stress and paranoia.

“Would you like some company while you work?” You offer, a gentleness in your tone that you hadn't made the decision to speak with. “I could clock out and then just… Sit in your office with you if you'd like. I know how empty the building feels when everyone has left.”

This time, you know you haven't imagined her hesitation.

“I'm under contract, anyhow, Governor. If there's an additional paper you need me to sign, for security reasons, well.” You shrug. “What's one more?”

Again, there's silence, and then…

“Call me Claire, if you're really willing to sit and do nothing for hours besides for staring at my office walls.”

You're a bit shocked she's accepted your offer, and you stumble over your response.

“I- oh. Uh… Okay, um. Claire.”

The governor’s lips twitch, as if she's hiding a smile.

“But not tonight. I was just about to head out, which means you definitely should too. Security won't stick around once I leave, and the night shift…” Claire scowls. “I need to remember to get them replaced.”

It's the most you've ever heard her talk without snapping at someone to do something, let alone to you.

“Isn't that what your assistant is for? To remind you or to arrange that on your behalf?”

“That's only if I remember to tell him.” Claire mutters, before shaking her head. “Shut your computer down, you're not staying if I'm not in the building.”

She waits, hovering over your shoulder as you listen, and she walks with you out to the front of the building.

“You didn't park in the lot?” She asks, when you start to head towards home.

You can feel your face flush.

“I uh… I don't exactly get paid enough to own a car.” You refuse to look at the older woman. “Usually I just walk back.”

“It's two in the morning.” Claire sounds incredulous.

“I have pepper spray.”

“No. You're not walking home anymore.”

Claire has her arms crossed again, and an all too familiar glare is being leveled at you.

Before now, you always thought it was an angry expression.

You're beginning to wonder if maybe it's a stubborn one instead.

You sigh.

“Well short of driving me home yoursel-”

“That's exactly what I'm going to do.”

You barely manage to keep your jaw from dropping as Claire turns, clearly expecting you to follow her.

You suppose if you don't, you won't get too far before she can find you walking.

Or if not, possibly fire you over it tomorrow.

You push down your anxiety.

Don't worse case scenario. You scold yourself.

Claire drives a nondescript silver minivan.

“I have custody every other month.” She explains your unanswered question.

Ah, right.

Sometimes you forget that Claire just recently went through divorce, that she has two little ones to care for.

You remember how the media had dug it all up, how they aired her very private life for the public.

For a minivan, it's pretty nice.

When Claire turns on the car, a few loud notes play, before she quickly slams her palm against the knob that turns the car music on and off.

You raise an eyebrow, but don't say anything about it.

Instead you ask, “how are they?”

“My kids?”

She sounds mildly surprised as she reaches for her seatbelt.

“Yeah.”

You click yours in as she replies.

“They're… They're okay, all things considered.”

She puts the car in reverse, and you rattle off your address so she knows where she's headed.

Her nose wrinkles, and you're willing to bet it's because you don't live in a particularly nice area.

“You had to hire shadows- uh, bodyguards for them, right?”

Claire's hands clench the wheel, turning her knuckles white.

“I don't know of any other governor who's had their children's lives threatened.” She practically growls. “It scares them, but they won't say anything.”

“I'm sorry.” You murmur.

Claire glances at your pale face, and she takes a breath, forcing her body to relax.

“It's not your fault.” She shakes her head. “They're my kids. I'm their mother. I'm bound to be a bit overprotective.”

You choke back an unamused laugh.

“You would hope.”

Claire gives you a quick look, before returning her full attention to the road.

“What makes you say that?”

Oh crap, you didn't mean to invite Claire to dig into your life.

“Er… My parents… They weren't the best.” You mumble.

Claire frowns, eyes still looking forward.

“How old are you again?”

“Twenty-three.”

Claire hums.

“And how much are we paying you again?”

You rattle off the salary.

Claire hums again, and then there's silence for the rest of the short drive.

When she pulls up in front of your apartment, you say, “this is it.”

You undo your seatbelt and open the door, moving to leave.

“I'll have the paperwork ready for you on your desk by lunch.” Claire says.

At your confused look she huffs.

“For your extended night hours.”

Oh!

“Right, thank you. And thank you for the lift.”

Claire nods.

“If you don't have those papers past lunch break, hound my assistant. Don't take no for an answer, I might not remember to let Brian know to expect you to be a bother.”

The word bother echoes around your head, and you swallow down sudden anxiety.

“Sure thing. Good night, Governor-er- Claire.”

“Good night.” The other woman says, and you shut the passenger door firmly behind you as you sprint into your building.

—»•«—

You do have to bother her assistant the next day, and the stack of papers Claire presents you with is frankly ridiculous, but you pull out a notepad, read them through, and write bullet points of what you're agreeing to.

You sign, and initial, and date.

And then you binder clip it all together and drop it with a fairly solid thud onto Brian’s desk.

“Governor Debella will want these to be scanned and filed.” You say, even as an intern knowing the procedure for important documentation.

The man frowns at you.

“You're not done.” Brain says, and then seemingly out of nowhere, produces another stack of papers.

You groan, but your impatience quickly disappears as you stare at the sheet of paper, towards the end of the stack, that says how much of a raise you're receiving for signing on to be Claire’s personal intern.

Claire's personal intern.

$47,000

That was $15k more than what you had been making.

What the fuck.

You sign the papers, and don't say a word.

Slowly, as the day progresses, people trickle out, until you're the last one in the main office.

Brain looks at you as he leaves, and nearly walks into a wall trying to maintain his stare.

You head towards Claire's office and knock on her door.

“Come in.”

She sounds frazzled, and you realize you haven't seen her flying around the office today as you normally do.

“Everything alright?” You ask, taking note of Claire's disheveled state.

“No.” Is the simple answer you get, and you don't push as Claire continues to frantically scribble something out.

You glance around, familiarizing yourself with the private office you so rarely see the inside of, and take notice of a little seating area, with two arm chairs and a very comfortable looking couch.

In addition, there's what appears to be a bar cart, but it's filled with bottled water and sports drinks instead of alcohol, as well as a giant TV screen and what looks like a game console hooked up to it.

Somehow, you can't quite picture Claire playing video games while at work, and you have to wonder if perhaps she has ever been forced to watch one or both of her kids while working.

You don't want to become an annoyance, so instead of pacing the space, you choose to settle into one of the armchairs, curling up with one knee to your chest, the other dangling off the side of the chair.

You stare at the ceiling and let your mind wander as you examine the embedded ceiling lights.

“This is fucking bullshit.” Claire suddenly growls, and the sound of a pen clattering against the plastic wood of her desk sounds through the room.

“What is?” You ask.

Claire’s head jerks up, and for a moment, she looks surprised.

“You're so quiet.” She says. “I forgot you were here.”

You shrug, and don't say I’m good at that, I've had a lot of practice growing up.

You do say, “I didn't want to be a distraction.”

Claire hums.

She does that a lot, you realize.

“Well, maybe instead I can bounce this off of you.”

She gestures for you to come around to her side of the desk, and you quickly skim over what appears to be a proposal for a bill.

“Is it even legal for me to be doing this?” You ask.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Claire shrugging.

“You work for the government office this will be coming out from. It's not illegal, just out of the norm.”

You make a noise of understanding, going over the contents of it, frowning.

“What’s the problem with this?” You ask once you're finished giving the proposal a once-over.

Claire viciously stabs a single digit at some handwritten notes laying next to her keyboard.

“This section, this sentence, this paragraph, this fucking word is wrong, but the thesaurus is being useless-”

“Whoa, whoa.” You slow down what was sure to be Claire spiraling into more stress. “What's the most important thing to fix here?”

Claire blinks, pauses, frowns, then flips through her notes.

“Here.” She finally decides. “This entire section needs to be completely rewritten.”

You scroll to the right place on the computer screen and read it over more carefully.

“I'm pretty sure we can bullshit what you want to say here.” You murmur half to yourself. “It shouldn't be too difficult, most of the framework is here, it's just about closing the loopholes and rewording things to be less polarizing.”

“You make it sound so simple.” Claire grumps, leaning back in her chair and frowning as she crosses her arms.

You shrug.

“I bullshitted my fair share of essays, the difficult part to it is having a decent outline, which you already have.”

The other woman grumbles something under her breath before sitting up, shooing you away with a flick of her hand.

“Alright, well if it's that easy.” Her tone is disgruntled, but her fingers are already clacking against the keyboard, and you take that as your signal to return to the armchair you had been lazing about in.

At the end of the night, she drives you home again.

It becomes a routine.

For the next few months, Claire uses you as a sound board during the late hours, and you've taken to bringing either a book to read or an adult coloring book to do while you sit with her.

And then something big must have happened in her private life, because Claire is an absolute menace even to you one Monday, tearing through the office morale like a hot knife to butter.

You don't dare say a thing, even when she snaps at you later that night for being incompetent, and you just sit and take it.

She doesn't mean it personally.

You know that.

But by the time Thursday rolls around, her attitude hasn't changed, and you've found yourself retreating, becoming as small and invisible as possible in an attempt to spare yourself from Claire’s wrath.

You hear shuffling from where you're curled up on the couch, and you look up, and find Claire downing a shot, a bottle of amber liquid sitting on her desk.

“I know I've been an ass.” She says when she catches your eye.

“You've been stressed.” You excuse.

Claire shakes her head.

“There are better ways of releasing steam.”

“Well what do you usually do?”

You think this must be the first conversation all week that Claire is having civilly.

“Get high. Or have sex.”

Your mouth drops open at her blasé answer.

“And I haven't been able to do either.” She complains.

“Well, er. I could- I could help. If you wanted. To- um. To destress, I- I mean.”

You don't know why those words left your mouth, and the moment they do, you can feel your face heat up.

Sure, you've begun to have the occasional fantasy or wet dream about your boss, but that wasn't the same thing as implying you'd have sex with her.

HR is going to have a field day with you.

You're going to be fired.

You bury your face into your hands, and when Claire gently brushes her fingers against your back, you jump.

You hadn't heard her move.

“Look at me.” She softly says, and you shiver at how low her voice is pitched.

“There's a good girl.” She smiles as you listen, and the pulse of heat that shoots down your spine makes you feel dizzy.

Her hand comes up to cup your face, angling it upwards and forcing you to meet her eyes.

“Do you mean it, baby?” She asks, and you shiver at the pet-name, biting your lip as you grow more aroused. “You'll help mommy destress?”

Your eyes widen at the title Claire has bestowed upon herself, and you flush with embarrassment as the whine you've been fighting to keep down slips out through your mouth and escapes.

Your boss chuckles.

“Such a sweet thing. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into, offering to stay so late with me, did you?”

You frown, confused, despite your ever growing arousal.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Claire smiles, but it's a sharp thing that causes gooseflesh to erupt along your arms.

“Please, doll. I've seen the way you look at me. And we both know how aware you are of how… Lonely, I have been.”

Her hand reaches out, and she brushes her knuckles gently against your cheek.

“Say yes.”

Her voice is pitched low, and it makes you shiver.

“Say yes to mommy, and I promise, you'll never have to worry about a thing again.”

Perhaps it should be your sign to leave right now, the possessiveness that practically drips from the governor's tone, but all it does is empty your head of thought.

“Yes.” You breathlessly say. “Yes, I'll help mommy destress.”

“Good girl.” She purrs, and when your lips part to allow a moan to tumble out, Claire gently presses against your tongue with two fingers.

When you stay still, frozen and unsure of what the older woman wants you to do, she furrows her brow and withdraws her fingers.

“Have you ever had sex before, honey?”

Immediately you can feel heat rise to your cheeks as you shake your head, shame rising in your throat.

“I- I'm a virgin.” You whisper, tripping over your words. “This is my first time…”

You trail off, embarrassed.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Claire coos, her eyes sparking with something that makes you feel a bit like her prey. “Budge over.” She says.

Mindlessly, you obey, scooting all the way down, and Claire settles back against the arm of the couch, and she lazily smiles at you as she slowly, tantalizingly spreads her legs.

You had no idea a suit skirt could stretch so much.

You had no idea how well it could hide the fact that Claire wasn't wearing any underwear either.

“Teach me how to make you feel good.” You're flooded by a sudden need to please this woman spread out before you, a sudden desire to watch her come undone because of you. “Show me how to touch you.” You beg. “Please.”

Claire chuckles deeply.

“You're going to be so perfect for me, baby.” She husks out, and you can feel how your pussy pulses, leaking wetness against the material of your underwear.

Unlike Claire, you're wearing a pair.

A niggling feeling of regret bothers you.

You wish you were easily accessible for your boss.

You want her to ruin you.

“Come here, honey.” Claire beckons you with a single finger, and you're obedient, crawling until you hover over her.

She reaches her hands up, and oh so gently cups your face with her hands, guiding your head downwards until your lips are just millimeters apart.

One of her thumbs softly brushes over your cheek, moving back and forth in a soothing sweeping motion, and her silvery-blue eyes gaze deep into your own.

The moment stretches, and you grow impatient of waiting, and despite your heart hammering against your ribcage, you close the miniscule gap between your lips and hers.

They're so fucking soft.

Claire isn't your first kiss by any means, but you deeply wish it were.

You're moaning into her mouth like you're a slut, and when Claire enters your own with her tongue, it's all you can do to keep yourself from falling atop of her as your limbs go weak.

Languidly, you make out with your boss, and as you do so, one of her knees makes its way between the apex of your thighs.

When you instinctively buck into the touch, Claire pulls away, and breathlessly laughs at you.

“Remember, doll. This is about mommy, not about you.”

Your head is spinning from the lack of oxygen.

You whimper, and bite your lip.

Her expression softens, and she reaches up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear.

“Didn't mommy say that as long as you're with me, I'll see to all your needs? Make me feel good, and I promise, you'll get a reward, sweet thing.”

You drop your head against her shoulder, and the whine that escapes you causes Claire to reach up and stroke at your hair.

“Let me show you how to touch mommy, baby. Let me show you how she likes to be pleasured.”

It's not fair, you think. No one woman should have the right to say things like that in such a husky sounding voice.

Your pussy throbs.

You lift your head up, and shift your weight, settling back so that you're straddling Claire.

“Please mommy, teach me.” You beg, and the older woman groans at the plain desperation that drips from your tone. “Teach me how to make you scream for your baby.”

At the word ‘scream’, Claire's eyes light up, something that simultaneously sends a shiver of fear through your body, but also a shiver of anticipation.

“You want to make mommy scream, doll? Get off, and I'll show you how.”

Gracelessly you tumble off of Claire and onto the floor, and she shakes her head as she laughs.

“You’re adorable, sweetheart.”

She stands, and as she walks back to her desk, she strips, carelessly leaving her clothes crumbled on the floor.

As she settles back into her leather seat, she spreads her legs wide in a clear order.

Her gaze feels intense as she watches you wobble over to her, before you collapse, dropping to your knees, your legs unable to continue to support your weight.

Your head spins as the scent of Claire’s arousal overwhelms you, and you look up at your boss with wide, pleading eyes.

She chuckles, and her hand comes down to pet your hair, before they tangle and tug at you.

“M-mommy!” You protest. “I still don't know what to do!”

Claire groans, but she doesn't stop guiding you forward.

“You're smart, doll. I'm sure you can figure it out.”

You whimper, but don't protest further, and then the older woman's cunt is directly in your face, and you're powerless as you stick your tongue out hesitantly.

You give her a taste test.

The wetness that is slowly dripping from Claire is a bit salty, but mostly, it just tastes musky.

It isn't bad.

It's just… New.

You give Claire’s pussy a few more tiny little licks, trying to acclimate to her taste, and she tightens her hold on your hair.

“I thought you wanted to make mommy scream.” She bites out, yanking you flush against her pulsing center. “So do it. Mommy needs to relax, and you're going to help.”

Helplessly, you do as Claire commands, and you start lapping at her earnestly.

When she lets out an unrestrained moan above you, you can't help but moan in return, and Claire gasps.

She yanks your head back, her chest heaving slightly, pupils blown wide.

“I never thought you could make such sweet noises, baby.” She breathlessly says.

You feel heat rushing to your face, and Claire's free hand grips your chin when you try to look away.

“Neither did I.” You whisper, ashamed.

Claire tsks.

“None of that now, honey, mommy wants to hear you again. Moan for me.”

Your mouth drops open, and your mind goes blank as you try to process your boss’s demand.

Her grip tightens.

“I said moan for me, bitch.”

It tumbles involuntarily from your mouth, loud and uncontrolled, and Claire's grip on your chin turns painfully.

“Does that turn you on? For mommy to degrade you like the little fucking slut you are?”

The noise you make in response causes Claire’s eyes to glint as she smirks.

“Who knew beneath all that innocence was a whore.” She coos, before jerking your head forward in a clear demand.

You eat her out for what feels like ages, the taste of Claire filling your senses, and you grow progressively lightheaded.

You find your thoughts slipping away as you become utterly focused on not letting one drop of your boss’s wetness to escape your tongue, and you find your hands keeping her legs spread apart as you become more eager in your ministrations.

You feel drunk as Claire begins to make higher and higher pitched noises until finally, she goes so high, it's a shrill thing that your ears can barely withstand, and there's a wetness soaking your face that isn't from how vigorously you had been pleasuring her.

She hasn't told you to stop, though, and you find yourself not wanting to regardless, so you continue to lap at her until she harshly jerks your head away.

“Enough.” She pants, eyes closed, chest heaving. “Enough.”

Your head spins, and you feel dizzy as you stare, memorized by the woman above you.

You open your mouth, aware there's something you want to ask, but you can't seem to conjure enough words in your mind to even speak them aloud.

Silvery-blue eyes open, and the most self satisfied smirk you have ever seen curls at the edges of Claire’s lips.

“How precious.” She murmurs, before sticking her heeled foot out.

You hadn't noticed that despite shedding her clothes, the older woman had kept her shoewear on.

“Why don't you make yourself feel good, and put on a pretty show for mommy, hm?”

You slowly close your mouth, becoming aware it's been hanging open, and give your boss a confused look.

Claire sighs.

“That's right, you really don't have any experience. Could have fooled me, with how well you've made me cum, doll.”

You flush, uncertain if it's from the praise or from the degradation.

You watch as Claire carefully stands, and you're startled when she hisses, her left leg buckling from how loose and relaxed her muscles have become.

“Strip.” Claire orders, her knuckles white from how hard she's clutching at her desk. “And then lay back on the couch.”

You scramble, tugging your shirt off as you simultaneously attempt to undo the button of your pants, and you wind up tripping, falling to the floor.

Claire's laughter causes your face to heat up.

“Looks like my baby needs my help, hm?” She giggles, toeing off her heels so that she can walk properly.

You whine, and can feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes with embarrassment.

“Aw, sweetheart.” Claire pouts. “Mommy thinks you're cute for being so eager. No need to be so sad over it.”

You whine again, but slowly force yourself to sit up.

“Mommy.” You whimper. “Jus’ wanted to feel good.”

The older woman’s amused expression visibly softens, and warm hands reach for you.

You stand with Claire's help, and she almost reverently helps you undress, gently kissing each newly revealed piece of skin.

“Look at this beautiful body, honey. Just so perfect for me.”

Unable to bear the compliment, you choose instead to bury your head against the upper part of Claire's chest.

She coos, and runs her fingers through your hair.

“Oh, sweet thing. Is my baby feeling shy?”

You nod against her, noticing the soft smell of vanilla.

You've never noticed it before.

You had thought it was maybe the air refresher in Claire's office, but no.

It's her.

Your head spins.

And you're so wet.

Claire's laugh rumbles against you, and she easily guides you towards the couch.

You only grow steadily redder as she pulls your legs apart, kissing her way up from one ankle, and then kisses her way back down the other, over and over until you're squirming with your need.

“Mommy, please!” You cry.

Claire groans, eyes fluttering shut for a few moments, before she pulls you close, hooking your legs over her shoulders.

When she noses at your clit, your hands find her hair, and she tsks.

“No, doll. I won't reward you if you pull at my hair.”

Reluctantly, you release your grip, and bury your fingers against the cushion of the couch instead.

“Good girl.” Claire praises, and you moan softly in response.

When her tongue presses against you, you shudder at the new sensation.

It's wet and warm and slightly rough, and–

“Oh, fuck!” You cry out. “Fuck, mommy!”

Claire's hands harshly grip at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making you whimper, but she continues to lavish her tongue over your clit, and you begin to squirm in earnest.

You've masterbated plenty of times, and have a few toys in your bedside drawer, but that is nothing compared to the older woman’s touch.

Within a few minutes, you're already near orgasm, and you chase the release, fighting the urge to bring your hands back up to tangle into Claire's hair.

And then right when you're about to reach that high, the moment before the waves of pleasure can overwhelm you, she pulls away, and you loudly sob.

“No, please.” You gasp.

Claire smirks, and you whimper at how lustful her gaze is, at how your wetness glistens on the bottom half of her face.

“You want to cum, baby?” She mocks you, pouting. “You want mommy to let you feel good? Then beg for it. I need to hear my cute little doll ask for permission first.”

You whimper.

“Please, mommy.” You can feel tears start to gather with how badly you want this. “Please let your baby cum, I wanna cum for you, I wanna feel good, please, please, please!”

“Hm…” Claire hums.

“Please.” The tears start to roll down your cheeks. “I wanna to cum, mommy. I want you to make me cum, please.”

You let out a sob of desperation when a single digit finds your swollen clit, and lightly begins to circle it.

“Please.” You whisper, your voice getting caught in your throat.

For a moment, you think your boss is going to deny you, and you open your mouth to continue to beg, when instead you gasp, two of Claire’s fingers suddenly stretching you open.

You let out a high pitch noise when she curls the digits, pleasure burning through you, and you buck your hips.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!” You chant, unable to form any other thought, let alone words.

“Cum for me, princess.” Claire softly orders, and as if your body was designed to obey her every desire, you convulse, a scream tearing it's way from your throat as she continues to finger fuck you, the gushing wetness weeping from your pussy causing a squelching noise, and you writhe as you ride the high.

“Fuck, baby.” Claire groans. “I want you to come for me again.”

You squirm desperately, the aftershocks still pulsing through you, but Claire is stronger than your now limp body, and she thumbs at your clit, sending electric waves up your spine, causing your back to arch painfully.

“FUCK!” You cry out, unable to control your volume, and you can barely hear Claire's responding moan over the static in your ears as a new wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

You're gasping for air with how it steals your breath away, and when Claire collapses on top of you, you gladly welcome it, despite how it further suffocates your lungs of oxygen.

She smells so good. You think as you start to come back to your senses.

The scent of vanilla is still prominent, but it's now mixed with the smell of Claire’s sweat.

Somehow, it's more appealing.

The smell of sex still hangs heavy in the air, and you throb as your body unfairly grows more aroused again.

“Mommy.” You whisper.

Claire groans, burying her head further against your neck.

“You smell so good, princess.” She says. “And you look so beautiful when I fuck your brains out.”

A whimper catches in the back of your throat.

Claire finally moves, shifting until she's sitting upright, and you don't think she's ever looked as enthralling as does now.

Her cheeks are flushed, and you can clearly see faint freckles that are usually hidden under a layer of makeup that Claire must have sweated off, and her hair has gone from stick straight to gentle waves, a halo of frizz framing her face.

You lose yourself in her eyes, at how she smiles so tenderly as she helps you up and to the private attached bathroom in her office.

“Let's get cleaned up, doll.” She says, and you grin goofily at her.

Your head is still spinning.

She giggles, a light sound that makes you join in once a light snort causes her to double over.

“You're so cute.” She smiles, and you obediently spread your legs when she taps your thigh.

She gently runs the wash cloth in her hand over the sticky residue of your arousal, and you flinch every time she passes over your clit.

“You’re still so sensitive.” She breathes out. “Did mommy not satisfy you, doll? Do you want mommy to keep going until it hurts for me to?”

“I- ah!” You cry out when Claire firmly swipes the cloth over your swollen bud. “I just want to be good.”

Claire peers up at you, and you hold your breath as she weighs your words.

“Next time then, maybe.” She decides, and you aren't sure if your shoulders slump with relief or disappointment.

She finishes cleaning you up, before moving on to herself, telling you to wait as she does so.

You watch as her back muscles move with her motions, and you can't resist the urge to kiss them, to nip at them.

Who knew the governor would have such fairly well defined muscles?

“Baby.” Claire warns.

“Mmm… Mommy.” You reply, before darting the tip of your tongue out against her warm skin.

“Baby, if you want to go home, you'll stop.”

“But you're so pretty. I can't help it.”

Claire turns around, shaking her head.

“You're adorable, honey. Come on, let's get dressed so we can head home.”

Claire has to help you into your shirt and pants, and you don't notice when she pockets your underwear instead of giving it back to you when she spots it under the couch.

Before you leave, your boss insists on watching you drink a glass of water, predicting you'll be too tired to do so once she drops you off at home, expressing how important it is to her that you take care of yourself.

By the time you get to her car, you're stumbling with exhaustion, beginning to crash as the endorphin high wears off.

You can't keep your eyes open once she starts driving, and when you let out a huge yawn, Claire glances at you.

“Go to sleep, baby.” She soothingly says. “I'll wake you up when we get home.”

You're used to listening when she asks you of something, and so you don't think twice as you finally allow your eyes to stay close, and you drift off, Claire's warm hand on your thigh.

[deoidesign]

Hello! I just discovered your blog and I immediately became captivated by your webcomic, but I'm unsure where to read all of it. I know it's on Webtoons, but I can see it hasn't been updated for a while, and you still post about it.

Are your physical novels just prints of the webcomic? Are they a continuation? Is the story complete? Thanks in advance!

Hi there!

Glad you found me and are enjoying my comic!

It's only on webtoons, and the story is not complete yet! We're 2/3 of the way through right now. It's currently on hiatus, and it's scheduled to come back in about 2 months!

I'll explain why it's been so long if you're curious, but also for my followers who might also be wondering about it under the cut. Sorry, it's pretty much just me complaining haha

I took a month off I took 2 months to get the books printed I took a month to prepare my next comic and I took 2 months to write the rest of the series (I knew the character arcs I wanted, but not the time periods or mysteries!!!) I've been working on actual episodes since then

I had to take some time off because of some pretty extreme burnout due to the sheer amount of work it was to draw over 800 pages and write 6 complete stories in a year and a half... I was getting sick almost weekly due to the overwork, it was really really bad honestly. I was having to work 60+ hours every week just to keep up...

The nature of the comic itself is also difficult... Each of the arcs is a complete, self contained story which can be read (ideally) without context, and my arcs need to be about 10-13 episodes each... And since I have an exact number of episodes to work with, it's even harder.

It takes a ton of planning and a ton of refinement, and working week to week with no breaks I was forced to put out second or even first drafts, so I just wasn't happy with the work I was doing... And to do that for the rest of the series? I wouldn't be proud of the work I did.

Plus... To be entirely honest, webtoon has treated me quite badly IN MY OPINION... They deprioritized me before I launched (I had to beg for more promotion, I'm not exaggerating), they outright denied me the opportunity to even ask for a raise, I don't make any money on fast pass and they pay me less than my partner makes working at trader joes. My first editor left me completely hanging, my second editor (who I loved) was fired... And they told me I wouldn't get a third season before my first season even finished. So it was just repeatedly completely demoralizing.

I'm sorry it has taken so long, it'll have been 10 months by the time I come back. But I realized... I won't get promotion either way. I won't get more episodes either way. I won't get more money either way. So to finish everything, to make it feel good, to make it something I'm proud of, I chose to take longer to make it better.

I am fully aware I will lose a significant amount of my readership for this and it might genuinely affect my career moving forward. But it's what I had to do! So I'm sticking to my guns on it, and I'm confident long term it'll be worth it. It never could have been this good if I didn't take this much time.

[damnation-if]

hey!! can i ask for a color palatte description for the ro's? like what their hair/eye colors are?

hope you're having a good week 💙💙💙

Hi!

I spent a long time putting together a graphic for this before I realised that you asked for just a description haha... oops. well. here is the graphic anyway XD

If you're looking for a link to the page with more general descriptions, there are some on the RO's page.

Very sorry for the delay in replying! My life is. hectic. smdnfgbsfgf

[tes-trash-blog]

Full Falmer translation of @king-minyard's Ode to Snow Elves (thank you thank you THANK YOUUUU for giving me your blessing!)

For a less-blurry version, open in a new tab; Common transcription and translator notes below the cut!

This one was a challenge! Two complete overhauls of syntax, thirty new words by my count (I definitely lost count), and a new method of expressing determiners went into making this adaptation. I wanted to treat this as a translation in either way, so keeping the original syllabic count was important, especially as it was in eights. I dunno, that number seems important to the Falmer, who likely engaged in numerology like their Altmeric cousins.

Highlights from this translation include Farligandra, "greet-grace" i.e. welcome and hospitality, Laivan, "to grant, to offer reprieve", Banhe, an outsider-friendly term for "home" (was this meant to be heard by others, perhaps?), and two of my personal favorites, Maethan, "to embrace" and naerth, "soul-rending grief", here translated as "gnashing grief" to provide a more visceral tone and to imply just what became of the Snow Elves.

The complete, side by side translation, is as follows!

[the-broken-pen]

could you write a snippet where hero and villain both show up at the same time to rescue civilian from supervillain please?

The hero’s pulse pounded in their ears, panicked and so loud–there was so much blood, oh god, they couldn’t tell where it was coming from–that they didn’t hear the villain behind them until they were slamming their elbow back into their ribcage. The villain caught it with one hand, running their gaze over the hero and their blood slicked hands as if assessing for injuries. When they did the same to the civilian, the villain went so still the hero wasn’t sure they were breathing.

The hero felt a little dizzy, actually, and they were trying incredibly hard not to cry, because that was their friend on the floor and they were never supposed to be involved in this–

“Hero,” the villain’s voice was stern, but not unkind. “Breathe.”

They choked on their next inhale, and the villain pressed against their chest with one hand until they breathed out again. There was something about the villain’s face, smooth and unyielding like stone, that pulled the hero into focus enough for them to suck in another breath.

“They need help,” they managed to gasp. The villain gave them a singular nod in confirmation.

“Yes. They do.”

“We need to–”

“You,” the villain interrupted, “need to calm down.”

“They’re dying.”

“And that’s not going to change if you’re too panicked to see straight. So take. A deep. Breath.”

Miraculously, the hero did. It was easier on the next breath, and the next, until their vision was clear and they could see the horror in front of them with all too much clarity.

The civilian was still breathing.

The villain released the hero’s elbow as soon as they realized the hero wasn’t about to panic again, grazing their fingers over the civilian’s tattered clothing in search of the worst wounds. They prodded something and the civilian winced, face bruised and entirely, blessedly, unconscious. “Pressure,” the villain gestured, and the hero. complied.

The hero knew better than to let up when the civilian, abruptly half-lucid from pain, tried to bat their hand away, but bile still rose in their throat.

“How are you so calm,” they said, and even they could tell their voice was slightly too close to hysterical. The villain glanced over at them, eyes dark, before ripping a makeshift tourniquet to tie around the civilian’s leg.

“I panicked once,” some memory, deep and dark and full of pain, flashed through the villain’s eyes. “I promised I wouldn’t do it again.”

The hero took the wad of cloth the villain handed to them, pressing it back down over the civilian’s stomach. It turned red under the hero’s fingers far faster than they would ever have wanted it to. Not that they would ever want it to, but if someone was bleeding they would at least want it to be slow–

“Oh,” they managed, voice strangled, and the villain took a moment to assess them once more. 

“Breathe,” the villain reminded. “They’re not dying. They’re beat up, but they’re stable. Emergency services are already on their way.”

The hero watched more blood well up around their hands. Pressed harder.

They would be digging red flakes out from under their nails for weeks.

“You’re normally calmer,” the villain remarked casually. If the hero’s brain wasn’t so stuck on the image of their friend bleeding below them, they would have recognized this for the distraction that it was.

“They didn’t choose this,” they whispered, throat raw. The civilian didn’t have powers, and they hadn’t chosen to use them for good or evil. They just lived, so kind and so normal.

“Neither does any other bystander,” the villain said.

“They’re my friend,” the hero willed the villain to understand, somehow, the enormity of this. The pain of knowing that it should have been them on the floor, that supervillain had done this because the civilian had been there and the hero had not.

A mistake of epic proportions. The biggest failure of their life. Not being there.

“So?”

“So it's my fault,” the hero’s voice broke, and they ducked their head down to hide the tears as they welled in their eyes. Distantly, they could pick up the barest trace of sirens, almost out of reach of their enhanced senses.

“Hero,” the villain said, voice gentle. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

The hero shook their head–

“No, listen to me,” the villain’s voice gained an edge to it. “It’s not your fault. I pissed supervillain off this week. They know the civilian is my friend. This was deliberate to hurt me, and I need you to get it through your thick skull that there was nothing you could have done to stop this.”

The hero wasn’t sure who the villain was truly saying this to–the hero, themself, or the version of the villain that had panicked so long ago, and suffered for it.

“I could have–”

“You couldn’t.” The villain’s stare was all encompassing. The hero wanted to believe them. “Stop blaming yourself for the pain other people are causing.”

“That’s kind of my whole thing,” the hero tried for something light, airy. The both of them watched it fall flat off their tongue.

“No, it’s not. Your thing is saving people, not beating yourself up over everything you think you could have done better.”

The hero didn’t have a response to that. Just stayed staring at the villain as the ambulance skidded to a stop, the red lights flashing off the villain’s hair and eyes.

Someone reached for the hero’s hands, still pressed tightly to the wound, and they flinched away, gritting their teeth. 

The paramedic raised their gloved hands as if comforting an animal. “I’m here to help,” they said slowly. 

It felt terrible unclenching their hands, letting the paramedic take their place, sliding the civilian onto a stretcher an unending minute later.

The hero swallowed hard, knees numb against the pavement, and let the villain hook their arms under the hero’s armpits to haul the upright.

“Alright, there we go,” the villain murmured easily. The hero tracked the paramedics as they closed the doors of the ambulance. 

“I should–”

“No,” the villain interrupted. They seemed to be doing that more often than usual, the hero thought slowly. “You need to get cleaned up, and eat something.”

“I need to go to the hospital, I can’t just leave them alone,” the hero argued. They tried to jerk themself from the villain’s steadying hold, and failed.

“Trust me, they’ve got a whole team keeping them alive. They’re in good company.”

“I’m failing them.” It was an entirely irrational thought, but it stung in the hero’s chest, burning its way into their ribs as an ‘almost’ truth.

“You’re taking care of yourself so that you are able to take care of them. You can’t pour from an empty cup, and you're at empty. So, we’re going to get you some clothes that aren’t covered in blood, a sandwich, and go from there.”

The hero realized between one blink and the next that they were exhausted–bones aching and made of stone, dragging them down further with every second. By the time they reached the villain’s car, the only thing that was holding them up was the villain; the weight of panic and a too long day spent trying to save the entire city pressing down on them.

They were dumped into the passenger seat without fanfare, and if they weren’t so tired, they would have protested about the blood, or question how the villain had gotten their car here.

The villain slammed the door, settling themself into the driver’s seat a moment later. They dug through the center console, too dark for the hero to make out what they were grabbing, before they scrubbed the hero’s hands with a baby wipe. 

They had the engine started before the hero had a chance to look down at their own–now clean–hands.

“It’s not your fault,” the villain said again. Their tone left no room for argument.

“You keep saying that,” they watched as the city lights flickered through the car windows. “Why?”

The villain’s jaw clenched in the periphery of their vision. When they answered, it was so soft and quiet the hero almost didn’t catch it.

“Because nobody said it to me.”

The hero let their head slump against the window, half-asleep as they watched the roads vanish behind them.

“Hey,” they said quietly. They didn’t have to look up to know the villain’s attention was solely on them.

Sleep pulled on them until their voice was little more than an exhaled breath. 

“It wasn’t your fault.”

The villain sucked in a shuddering breath.

“It isn’t your fault.”

Before sleep managed to swallow them whole, the hero swore they caught a single tear streaking down the villain’s cheek.