#I have more opinions on him; but if I said how I really feel right now I think it would get me put on a list

[sharkboywrites]

My perspective on Curly as a victim of abuse

Tw for abuse (physical and sexual)

Hey mouthwashing fandom, so this is kind of a hard topic for me to tackle, but recently with seeing people’s opinions in the fandom on Curly as a character, I want to put in my own two cents as a victim of abuse.

I want to clarify before I start that I am not a victim of sexual abuse specifically. The abuse I faced was physical that bordered on sexual, but I was never sexually assaulted. That’s why this analysis isn’t about the sexual assault aspects of Anya’s abuse, like her relationship with Jimmy, but rather on the aftermath of the abuse on how the people she trusted (specifically Curly) interact with Jimmy after they know.

For context so people can understand my situation: I was in a very physically abusive friendship that bordered on sexual abuse in my freshman year of high school. Now, through my sophomore to senior year, I was forced to be in the same school as this person. In the same classes, in the same clubs, in the same events, and the same friend group as my abuser.

This is why I relate to Anya so heavily. I understand being forced to stay in situations with the person who abused you and being around people who either don’t know or do know and haven’t done anything/hold them accountable.

Now onto the main topic of my rant: Curly. So far from what I’ve seen, Curly is a hot topic for debate on the morality of his character. Anya confided to Curly about the abuse, and Curly, as far as we can see, didn’t do much. This makes it really easy for people to point fingers at Curly and call him an awful person and say that he is just as bad as Jimmy.

This is where I disagree. I don’t think Curly is a bad person.

Again, I understand the pain of having people do nothing. I have watched people I confided in about the abuse I face completely ignore what I have said and continue to be friends with them. I have had people say that I was lying. I have had people defend them right to my face because “They look like they’re getting better” or “But they seem like such a good partner to their (current) girlfriend!”

I get how frustrating that is. I understand the level of hurt that brings and how unsafe that can make someone feel. But once again, this is something the fandom immediately jumps on Curly for without really looking any further into it.

The thing is, these are people I know at school. These are people who can actively control their situations. These people can stop talking to them, stop giving them rides, etc. to stop interacting with them.

This is not the case for Curly and Jimmy. The most obvious thing being: they’re literally on a ship in space. They are all in a confined space and forced to be together for months on end. On top of that, Jimmy is a very unstable person, and Curly probably knows that. A lot of people like to characterize Curly as the “Oh, but he’s my friend, he wouldn’t do that” guy, but that’s not what happened. He listened to Anya, and while he definitely been more empathetic and done a bit more, he still didn’t deny it.

I personally feel like Curly specifically not denying it means he knows that Jimmy did it, and that he knows Jimmy is a bad person.

All of these are faults of Curly’s. He let someone he knew onto was dangerous onto the ship, and when he did something bad, he didn’t do enough to help despite being the captain.

But one thing we do know is that Jimmy is a manipulator. He will manipulate or threaten anyone to get what he wants. First off, we don’t know if Jimmy manipulated Curly to give him the job in the first place, which could have very much happened. Second, he was seen manipulating Curly AGAIN in the psych evaluation scene, the birthday party scene, and near the end of the game when Curly confronts him after talking with Anya.

Every single thing Curly falls short on is a direct effect of Jimmy’s manipulation in the first place. Yes, he absolutely could have done more in both situations, but Jimmy manipulated into him into letting him off easy.

On top of being manipulated by Jimmy, there wasn’t much Curly could do. He can’t just throw Jimmy out into space and he couldn’t let Anya have the gun because he can’t have his crew killing each other obviously (even if Jimmy is a threat).

The only critique I have of Curly at this point is doing more to protect Anya. He could have made a better effort to keep Anya safe from Jimmy and really put his foot down when confronting him.

Although again with all of this, it just boils down to Jimmy. If manipulation doesn’t work with Jimmy, then he uses threats or brute force. Curly probably knows that Jimmy is unstable, and probably didn’t know what he would do if he had been firm with him or done literally anything that could be seen as against him, evidence being the birthday scene. Everything that happened and everything Curly fell flat on was becuase of Jimmy’s manipulation and unpredictability tendencies, so really, it’s not 100% his fault.

Tldr; While Curly could have done a little more and should be critiqued, all of the stuff he falls flat on is because of Jimmy just like everything else in the story, so people should stop treating him like he’s a bad person or could keep Jimmy in control because he was a victim too.

[highfantasy-soul]

omg this tension with Evan and his character arc this season is sooo juicy!!!!

spoilers for episode 9 of mismag season 2

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

At some point, the tension is going to break and I really really hope the entire pilot program sits Evan on his ass and, since he's so concerned about people being plain with their speech, gives it to him like it is. How he's being so SHIT to his friends and at every opportunity spitting in their faces and calling them liars.

My jaw was on the GROUND when they went back to piss-berg and he accused the Quoli (spelling - who knows spelling??) of being purposefully obtuse about why he gave Evan the book and what his sad expression meant. Evan took it as "Evan's life will permanently be so sad and pathetic" and when confronted, the Quoli explained that wasn't the reason, Evan wanted answers and the book has what Evan had wanted when last he came to the island - but the whole reason the Quoli looked sad was inappropriate to tell Evan.

Like, the Quoli straight up said 'Evan, your emotional healing and self-realization has got to come from you - you can't get that shit handed to you by an outside force' and Evan threw a little tantrum.

What really made my jaw drop was when in response to Evan claiming the Quoli thought his life was all super sad and pathetic, the Quoli LOOKED TO THE OTHERS to ask if they thought Evan's depiction of his life was accurate. The others staunchly and firmly said 'no, we don't see Evan's life as just a sad, pathetic never ending cycle of depression - that's not who he is' - the Quoli looked to Evan and asked 'Do you really need ME to explain to you what your friends already know? (and just told you) or do you trust that with more time, you'll understand it for yourself?' (again, telling him - yo, you can't fast track emotional healing, but you got a whole ass support system here for you. To quote Bo Burnham: the love has got to come from YOU)

And EVAN'S RESPONSE WAS: "I don't like you. There could be clarity here and there's not. I'm not sure if that's your fault or just the nature of the world but either way, I don't have to be in a good mood about the imposition of mystery on someone who's just looking for answers."

My jaw DROPPED

Evan just heard his friends give clear and direct answers to the question he was asking and he TOLD THEM TO SHUT THE FUCK UP - THEIR THOUGHTS MEAN NOTHING, THEY DON'T KNOW SHIT AND HE WANTS A GOAT TO TELL HIM WHAT TO FEEL!!!!!!

He's claiming there's mystery and a lack of clarity but EVAN IS THE ONLY ONE OBSCURING HIS VISION!!!!

You can bring a horse to water but you for sure can't make him listen to his friends when they tell him point blank the answer to his question!

If I was Jammer, I wouldn't have just asked Evan if he was ready to go, I would have grabbed that motherfucker by the collar and drug his ass out of there and he'd be getting the cold shoulder for A WHILE

I really hope that's where his character arc is going because I get heated every time Evan insists his friends are shit and liars and 'no, no, they don't understand, I'm the most specialist boy in the whole wide world and my sadness is everything that defines and and I'm going to pretend to hate it, but every time my friends counter it, I'll ignore them and tell them they're stupid liars and retreat back into my comfortable sad boi aura that makes me feel special.'

Like, at some point, something's gotta break, right? I know K has the most to lay out for Evan in that department, but I kinda hope Jammer is right there with them because I don't think Evan will listen to K at all - he'll dismiss her as just a jilted lover who's opinion is the least among the group.

I know it's an improv show and there's no guarantee everything will pay off, but I think it'll be really good if they're able to fit it in.

---

Obviously, this isn't me dogging on Brennan and his choices while playing the game - it's a very VERY compelling and realistic look at the difficult healing journey that people who have gone through (or gone through similar) what Evan has might take.

What I will say though, on a serious note, is that if you find yourself in a relationship with someone who behaves the way Evan does, take care of yourself. Just because they've suffered unimaginable trauma doesn't mean it's ok for them to abuse you. Even if that abuse stems from their trauma, you do not have to accept being treated like that.

You cannot help someone who doesn't want to be helped. You cannot force them to drink the tonic you offer them, accept the help you give, or believe what reassurances you give them.

You cannot tell them how to view themselves - even if you think it's helping them see themselves how you believe they truly are. The belief HAS to come from them, you can't do their emotional labor for them (though many will try to make you and then have you blame yourself when it doesn't work).

Of course leave room for love and meeting people where they are, but trauma does not excuse abuse - you are not a bad person for stepping away from someone who is hurting you even if they're hurting, too.

[anomaliex]

Kind of a weird one, but I think it'd be cute if Zayn instructed Adaine on how to put on nail polish.

It just doesn't seem like a thing she got to play around with much, not even because the Abernants would be against it or anything but just because that poor girl was so repressed and uncomfortable in that house at all times. I think it just didn't even occur to her to play around with her appearance? She probably didn't get into makeup in the sense of self expression either, I just think it would've been expected of her to know how to "look presentable" (like cover up imperfections but never do anything too bold or unnatural). By fifteen a lot of teenage girls do makeup right? Idk, never got into it. But yeah Adaine was very stiff and always looked a certain way and never really personally decided what to look like until Highschool.

Then her friends help her pick out clothes, and I like to think Fig and Fabian cut her hair at some point. (And it's not even that big of a difference, but it just feels good to have a haircut that she herself asked for specifically, if that makes sense?) And then when she befriends Zayn, and maybe probably when they're in Mordred, it's just like hey yeah Zayn bedazzled himself he knows this stuff. Sitting in her wizard tower with him hovering next to her, being her second opinion on colours and "oh it's okay, don't worry too much about getting it on your skin it's easy to scrub off after it's dried". Reassurance and the occasional tip as teenage girl kind of anxiously sits in her room free (in a sense) of her shitty parents for the first time and feeling kind of euphoric about getting to be "normal" and silly?

I imagine if Adaine got comfortable enough in her own skin and processed some more of her trauma between junior and senior year and like, started being interested in other people she'd confide in Zayn about crushes and they'd be stupid highschoolers talking about cute people. I don't know if I think Adaine gets to that point?? But it's a cute hypothetical haha. For what it's worth I think Oisin (post rage crystal and very ashamed) has a crush on her and when she notices and tells Zayn he's like girl ew. Kill him?? He's very dramatic in my head. Or, I guess he's dramatic canonically lol. But I think he's more petty. He's funnier if he's petty.

Zayn isn't that important anymore when he stops being plot relevant so their friendship isn't expanded on a lot, but from what we've seen it's very dear to me. Cute wizard friends with shitty parents (and a big part of said shittiness is caused by conservative elven values) to bond over :)

[a-writing-otter]

WIP Wednesday - Chapter 10 of The Redemption and Subsequent Death of Bill Cipher

Bill is drinking tea as he looks down at Dipper’s journal. The most recent pages are several detailed descriptions and theories revolving the entity known as Copernicus (Less of an “entity” and more of a “pain in the ass” in Bill’s opinion, but tom-may-to, to-mah-to). After wading through what memories he’s got, Bill has divulged everything he can come up with on both the demon himself and incubi in general.

“So, they’re only as strong as who they’re feeding off of?” Dipper asks, scribbling something down.

Bill makes a halfway gesture.

“They’re only as strong as the strength they’ve accumulated and the realm that they’re rooted to. Copernicus feeds on this realm, most incubi do because it’s a plane rife with people who all hate their lives and are willing to indulge in anything to escape it. The goal is to feed here and tear it up in another dimension, usually the Nightmare Realm. Copernicus wants to feed and tear it up here, so he needs to bring his roots into this realm. If he does that, he doesn’t need Dottie Gleeful anymore and can just walk around and cause indiscriminate chaos.”

“Which is why he needs the rift opened—“

“So he can squeeze his scrawny ass through,” Bill mutters into the tea before taking a sip.

“How do we avoid doing that while getting him out of a person?”

Bill comes a little closer over Dipper’s shoulder.

“Your uncle’s working on that right now,” Bill mumbles before pointing at the book and the drawing that Dipper has rendered of Copernicus’ previous demon form, per Bill’s description. “Good sketch, kid.”

Dipper smiles up at him before turning back to it.

“What does he look like normally?”

Bill sighs at that.

“Well, it’s… a little more complicated.” He stares down into the cup for a second. “I always knew him like that, as a diamond with three eyes, similar to the way I used to look, but a different shape, color, and eyes set-up. He also likes neck-ties and bowler hats.”

“But?”

“But incubi are a lot more fluid with their form,” Bill explains. “He put that form on to appease me. To… To make me feel less alone.”

Copernicus, once upon a time, had been very good at that. Up until a couple of months prior, he hadn’t remembered their time together unfondly. Copernicus had been a pretty good boyfriend, all things considered. They’d drifted the Nightmare Realm together, caused undue chaos, and when Bill had told him about the things he heard, the things he saw, Copernicus believed him.

Another universe, they might have ruled this stupid planet together.

But now Bill wants to “protect it” and that kind of throws a wrench in everything else.

Not to mention his current “boyfriend” situation which is less of a “boyfriend” situation and a “maybe-not-also-kind-of-yes-boyfriend-situation”. Which, like, now isn’t exactly the time to quantify that just because they slept together.

And Bill said that he loves him.

And neither of them have commented on it in the few days since.

It’s fine. It’s good. All fine. Time to figure this stuff out once they dealt with everything else.

Right.

“What’s he look like when he’s normal?”

It takes a second for Bill to conjure the image, thinking back to the dream he’d had before they exorcised him.

“Kind of… amorphous. A cloud, grey-purple in color. Lots of hands and eyes. God, Cooper’s really just eyes. Incubi tend to have very fluid forms, lets them adapt to different forms with ease.”

“So if he is able to get the rift open—“

“No, he won’t just turn into anyone.” Bill lets out an almost bitter laugh. “He’s vain as anything, you saw the way he was with Dottie. He’s got forms he favors and he’ll turn into one of those. But, we’re not opening the rift, so it’s not really an issue that we—“

“We’re going to open the rift,” Ford announces as he walks into the kitchen.

“Oh, look,” Bill glances to Dipper, “your uncle’s gone crazy.”

[actualclownfucker]

i really like the idea of bcsr being suuuuuper pro-muggle. so like, barty would be raised with a muggle and wizarding education (he is a math nerd and you cannot, will not convince me otherwise LOL) and bcsr always had muggle technology, muggle and wizarding books and literature around the house

so bcj read call of cthulhu and said “i am gonna get me some of THAT” he goes to hogwarts and sees the giant squid and he fckin cums

(sometimes i wonder why regulus tolerates him, it’s def for the dick tho)

and yes, i believe voldemort was hot during the first war, at first. it wasn’t until he had all his horcruxes that he started to look “waxy”

but i mean, i am basing it off the opinion of harry and by god. he sees any dark haired man at all and he just goes “smash.” big reason why he didn’t like bcj (apart from his wormface), he’s a blond!

ohhhh, i have a lot of thoughts about bcj humanizing voldemort, actually. i know it would be easy to jump to the conclusion that voldemort didn’t like it, but i actually think he did

(i’d even say he let bcj call him “tom” when they were alone, if bcj could say anything other than daddy”)

i feel like, in a way, voldemort is a lot more human than some people give him credit for

yes, he’s cold and heartless and tried to get rid of his past. but at the same time, he’s sort of… not that cold

he likes jokes, he gets angry, he laughs, he resents his family and has his own surplus amount of daddy issues and all of this makes it easy for me to see the human in him

and i think bcj looking at him, talking to him, like yes he’s he’s the greatest dark wizard of all time and bcj worships him, but he can still just talk to him like a person, would be something voldemort actually loves. he doesn’t need bcj to be scared of him, there’s no point in that

the way to get bcj under his thumb is, oddly enough, with kindness and appreciation of his intellect, which voldemort would be happy to do. he would be thrilled to have intelligent conversation with bcj

it’s that exact right amount of worship and still being able to talk to him that voldemort would make bcj tolerable

barty has always wanted to be someone’s favorite. being voldemort’s bitch, the only one with that title, being preferred over everyone (except maybe snape, wtf voldy, that was stupid) it’s his way of being special

him finding out about what voldemort’s told harry in the graveyard scene could go one of two ways IMO, he was either devastated that someone else mattered to voldemort as much as him, had convinced himself to be delusional enough to believe he’s the only one that mattered

OR because he’s gotten to know voldemort so well, it doesn’t come as a surprise to him at all about harry. he knows how valuable and connected he and voldemort are, it’s okay. because voldemort still needs him too. he wouldn’t kill him like he’s going to kill harry anyways~!

LOL! voldemort would’ve gotten such a kick out of humiliating bcj and i think bcj hates being embarrassed. which is unfortunate being as his entire personality is nothing but embarrassing. when he’s embarrassed, he cries (as usual) and then he’s even more embarrassed for crying about it

(people don’t like when i say this, but if they’re going to characterize the marauders as these “pranksters,” he would’ve made an easy target for them and they’d have laughed at him and all the others in that friend group (pandora, evan, just not regulus because yk, they ignore his presence entirely). i’m not anti-marauders btw obviously, i love them and don’t think they’re much of “pranksters” as much as they are just kids who like to joke around, them planning out these elaborate pranks and stuff, i don’t think that has any basis in canon? correct me if i’m wrong tho)

anyways! yes, bcsr is oddly happy to talk down to barty as well. i can especially see him doing this to sirius when bcj is around or mentioned (i think most of the time, he goes out of his way to pretend barty doesn’t exist). however, i believe bcsr also brags about barty’s intelligence. the reason we know bcj got twelve owls is because when bcsr was outside hogwarts grounds, trying to get to dumbledore, he seems to be convinced that he’s talking to someone in the past saying, “oh, yes, barty got twelve owls and we’re very proud” gives me the impression of a man who doesn’t want people to know what goes on behind closed doors

“my shirt got wet” aww, my baby. someone hit him, quick! not only is it raining but you were already sobbing before that, the shirt was already wet with your fucking tears, idiot!

every few minutes or so, someone has to look at him and be like, “oh my GOD. what is it NOW?!”

post azzie, i think he’s more cold tho. it kinda chills out once he gets daddymort’s attention, but sirius tells us bcj spent his first few days in azkaban screaming for his mother (this is why i think him making a scene in the courtroom wasn’t an act, because what’s the point of keeping up the act for the dementors and other prisoners?) and then he went completely silent. and i don’t think he was ever the same after that

honestly, in a way, sirius has good reason for not wanting to open up to anyone - even james. deep down, he knows what bcsr does to him is wrong, but on the surface level, he won’t admit it. and he knows james is going to say all the things that he knows deep down to tell him that bcsr is wrong and the idea of him actually starting to admit to himself is terrifying so he lashes out. it’s all he knows.

it hurts james, james takes it to his parents and i wonder if sirius would almost even see that as a breach of their trust? like, “well that’s the last time i tell you anything, james” if he’s just going to tell other people. even if those people are his parents. sirius being uncomfortable with the potters and feeling like a burden there is such an important thing to me. he doesn’t want to make his problems, their problems, he wants to stay out of their way and not cause them any issues or make them regret taking him in

ouch, you’re so right. attacking bcsr = attacking sirius, calling him stupid and it’s trying to make decisions for him. he’s perfectly capable of deciding things for himself, he’s perfectly capable of being on control of himself and he doesn’t NOT need james to control him and tell him what to do.

needing people is terrifying for him, but i think the least terrifying one for him to need is bcsr. because, in sirius’s head, bcsr will tell him when he’s wrong and he’ll correct his behaviors. james, the potters, they’re too nice about it, that’s not what he needs. he feels so much more validated by bcsr and i definitely do think he could misread the potter’s concern as pity

but then, bcsr insulting james back to him, sirius feels like he’s in the crossfire of people who are supposed to care about him, but suddenly, it seems like no one does and he feels more alone than ever

but sirius feeling guilty is exactly what bcsr wanted. i like the idea of it ending abruptly too, like bcsr sends sirius a letter saying he’s disappointed in him and expected sirius to do better, maybe even tells sirius how much he’s missed him lately, sirius writes back and bcsr just doesn’t respond. sirius should’ve made more of an effort with him

i think bcsr definitely took sirius to some educational things. museums, exhibits and (idk about timeline or if there was anything like this: but i think parents taking their smart kids to watch a rocket launch is fun) things like this, to both teach sirius about art and history, but also to hear what sirius thinks of it, because even as a child he was very, very bright. not unlike his own son, who would’ve been desperate to learn from his father and desperately begged to ask his dad if he’d take him to an exhibit nearby one day, bcsr said “no, i’m busy, stay at home with your mother”

wouldn’t even allow mrs crouch to take bcj, because he didn’t earn it. so mrs crouch stays at home with bcj to look at books on whatever it was about. bcsr shows up early from work, bcj thinks maybe he changed his mind and is going to take him after all?! haha, you thought, kid.

sirius honestly probably looks at bcj and just thinks, well, he can go another time. who cares anyways?? i love a chill sirius

mrs crouch and her husband scream at each other that night (which also makes bcj cry, what doesn’t tho?)

i think bcj is similar at school to sirius how he is at home, just more calm. he doesn’t follow him around, and bcj is a few years under him, but whenever they’re in the great hall or the library together, sirius can feel barty’s eyes on him. can feel himself being stared at and he knows exactly who it is.

bcj might take to trying to trip sirius in halls and other things like this, but sirius just evades it and looks at him like “ok dude. you tried again. you done yet?”

the crouches making the blacks seem normal is WILD. but yeah, like, walburga would never grab sirius by the hair and repeatedly smash his face into the table. honestly, bcj probably only shuts up because he passes out or gets a concussion LOL

i think walburga isn’t against physical punishment at all, but maybe she wouldn’t do it the “muggle” way, you feel me? i could see her not wanting to scar him too, because she wouldn’t want a tainted heir (bruising however? she’s just fine with that). i think it happens mostly too because she and sirius get into fights and she gets so frustrated with him that she casts a spell without even thinking about it. and well, it works. she wins and he shuts up (you can’t tell me mrs black likes to lose) and there’s no guilt in her at all about it. she doesn’t apologize, which is why bcsr saying “i’m sorry for hitting you sirius” is so okay to him. plus, what’s being hit versus being crucio’d?

bcj said mama/mommy and daddy until he took the dark mark. so at least until he was 16, maybe even a little after that. but then he got pompous and switched to “mother” and “father” maybe still mama sometimes when he was alone with her tho (let me have this)

love!! sirius getting triggered by bcsr telling mrs crouch not heal bcj because walburga does the same thing? how bad are we talking? like he has a panic attack bad? because mmmm bcsr seeing sirius having a panic attack is a delicious thought

and another thought i’ve always liked, i don’t know what this does to bcj’s pureblood status, but squib mrs crouch is such an interesting concept to me. she can still give bcj potions to heal him, but can’t perform any healing spells. can’t pull her son out of spells bcsr puts him under, cant help him and even more so can’t stop bcsr

oh, no. bcsr hates bcj trying to emulate sirius. which doesn’t make sense, because doesn’t bcsr always say “be more like sirius” to him??? he’s trying! he wants to be him, be in his skin, have his dick in sirius’s ass too! what he really hates is the way bcj is going about it. wearing his clothes, taking on his hobbies, maybe even his speech pattern, rather than being quiet and obedient (and pretty) like sirius is

ooooooo!!! i really like him doing that and pretending he is sirius to cry out for daddy instead. because his obsession with sirius does stem from jealousy, i think that makes perfect sense

and tbh, sirius probably does smell good, so who can even blame bcj?

do you think sirius would stop coming over if bcj drugged and raped him?? i don’t think he’d tell bcsr that it happened, because he doesn’t necessarily want to get bcj in trouble, even after he did something so horrible

but bcj would love sirius having a love potion omg! having sirius fawn over him like that would be everything to him

and this would be easily noticeable to bcsr, obviously, because sirius isn’t being himself and the obvious person to blame is bcj. he demands winky to tell him if she knows anything, she does and admits to doing it, winky gets beat, winky doesn’t follow bcj’s orders anymore. sirius just further slips in as his son to replace bcj

harry and sirius are really similar for that, actually, yeah!!

i think it’s so hard for sirius to come to terms with bcsr being awful, so not only does he justify the abuse being done to him, but he tries to justify the way bcsr treats bcj too. i would say mrs crouch as well, but i believe whenever bcj isn’t the topic of conversation and nothing is going on with him, they’re alright. bcsr still does romantic things for her, still tells her he loves her at night, even feels bad when they fight (tho does not change his behavior or feel bad for bcj, just feels bad later that he made his wife upset) and wants to take her on romantic evenings. which she accepts because fuck. at least it’s giving bcj a night away from him and then they end up having a wonderful time because bcj doesn’t come up

do you think lily would tell sirius he’s not “broken” or would she be more the type to say, “we’re both broken” in more of a solidarity type of thing??? because she believes she is too??

“he went to stay with a friend” meanwhile sirius knows bcj’s only actual friend is regulus and he’s pretty sure bcj isn’t at their house.

but yeah, we know bcsr isn’t above using the imperius curse on his son and i think it makes sense to lean into him doing things like that a little more. anytime mrs crouch is away, bcj is nothing more than a shell of a person.

when sirius is over, he’s locked in his bedroom with protections to make sure he can’t get out or make a sound, under the imperius, or just stunned. i think stunning is the best option, because i’m amazed bcsr could keep bcj under the imperius curse as long as he did in GoF and still do his job, you know? like, i have to think that made it a bit easier for bcj to break out of it (not that seeing his master wouldn’t have done it regardless, bc the hard-on in his pants seeing daddymort again would break any spell) and bcsr would want to be focused on sirius the entire time when he’s over, so stunning seems like the perfect option.

what this does to bcj tho is mean that his mind is still running, he still sees everything, all of his screaming and crying is kept entirely in his head, all the energy in his body is overwhelming and he probably feels like he’s choking the entire time, but not even winky notices that when he visits him. because he’s just sitting there in a chair, stunned

sirius would be so genuinely confused why bcj would do that, when sirius literally just got him off the hook and now, bcj about to get punished anyways (bcsr tells sirius to leave the room as he takes off his belt, bcj knows daddy isn’t about to fuck him, but he’s hopeful. no, instead he gets whacked with the belt. and those bitches hurt)

(why go for the best friend’s brother trope when regulus can just have his brother instead, right???) i love blackcest best when regulus is the seductor. when he maybe even manipulates sirius into it a bit. i feel like it’s too easy to have sirius be the creepy “older” brother that wants to fuck his sibling. plus, i think regulus would. he’s got no concept or ideas of boundaries and he doesn’t care to

my favorite thing in blackcest (whoops outing myself here) is regulus not knowing how to get off and asking sirius for help. and sirius is like “??? bro what…. uh, okay, here’s what you do” and gives him instructions not expecting regulus to just start doing it right in sirius’s bedroom, right in front of him???? regulus complains that it’s not working and asks sirius to show him and even tho sirius knows better… he does

ooo, that’s a good point!! sirius is perfectly content to just say “barty” when he and bcj are sleeping together and bcj is fucking him. and bcj likes it too, bc he can convince himself that sirius is saying it for him

(and again, by the end of it, bcj is chanting “i love you, i love you, i love you” which is what makes sirius cum bc the idea of bcsr fucking him and saying ily?? beautiful!!)

and honestly when bcj does want to get railed, he probably just goes to some shady place with a sign that says “i’m underage, please rape me”

i really just can’t help thinking about how much bcsr being attracted to sirius and sirius literally just looking for parental figure would fuck him up for life. he could so easily start believing that sex and his looks are all anyone wants from him? he knows that the potters don’t seem like some kind of freak family that would do that to him, there’s no way james would talk about them the way he does if so, right? but fleamont asks to talk to sirius alone in his office one day and sirius just Knows™️ that, that’s it. that they’re all the same and he’s never going to have anyone to love him if he doesn’t put out

and it would make sirius feel so sick everytime he lets bcsr touch him, everytime he hears bcsr whispering in his ear how good he’s being and he catches barty’s eyes from the crack in the door, where he’s just watching silently. bcj definitely wants to go inside, scream at them and demand his father fuck him instead, but he’s too entranced by actually seeing his dad that way to do it. (and he’s gotta have fodder to touch himself to later, right?)

ohhh, what does bcj think of to conjure a patronus?? he just has so many happy memories, there’s so much to choose from! after the dark mark, it’s definitely that, but before that, boy!! he’ll just think of something happy and different each time (of course, every single memory includes himself in pain)

i do think regulus would despise being called any name in bed other than his own, because he wants to be important and powerful in some regard, wants to be remembered as himself, he would not tolerate that. but bcj would be like “ok do u wanna call me sirius then?” and that might be okay with regulus

bcsr watching sirius grow into himself and deciding their relationship has to go from parental to sexual is so, so sad for sirius, he trusted bcsr so much.

yep!! and this reminds me… sirius’s replacement is obviously percy, who is PERFECT. for bcsr

i think sirius would love learning history and languages from mr crouch too, bc i mean!! that’s so many!! very much gives me pushes-his-son-to-achieve academic excellence as well, overachieving and not settling for anything below perfection

omg yes!!! bcsr giving sirius muggle things is so perfect. he doesn’t know anything much about motorcycles, but he went out of his way to find that for sirius, knowing sirius would be interested???? fuuuuuuckkkk.

also,,, MRS CROUCH, WHAT IS HAPPENING IN YOUR HOME?! THIS IS UNBELIEVABLE!!! i don’t even think she knows half of it!!!

do you mean barty crouch sr by bcsr??? because omg plz tell me what you think about sirius’s relationship w him, i find the crouches so interesting, i would love to hear about that

YESS i LOVE you !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i dont actually know how much of what i imagine for them can be fit into canon/is canon but like sglkfd.

so barty jr and sirius probably met during their childhood i think, bcjr was intelligent and well mannered and a respectable kid in sirius' age range, and ofc there's the hc that he was close friends w regulus, too. i hc he was pretty distant w bcjr himself but i just knoww sirius 'daddy issues' black needed everyone's parents' approval. orion was a negligent asshole sawr i think its a pretty valid course of action yk

and ofc bcsr loved him !! he was intelligent, he was quick, he was charming, well mannered, all the shit he wishes his bastard of a son was. and barty sr is a bit manipulative too yk he would definitely try to steal sirius away from his family and friends because he knows what sirius needs.

and like !! bcsr. he knows his son is death eater, he does use sirius as a replacement. he doesnt hide it, either, which he thinks justifies using a very obviously traumatized young boy to forget about the guilt in his heart about abusing, traumatizing and neglecting his own son. that being said, he gives sirius the watered down version of abuse his parents do - which sirius has grown comfortable enough with. that being said, the main reason sirius ran away isnt there: he's not a supporter of voldemort. he's actively fighting against him. (also hehe i hc walburga as bipolar so sirius is just happy he doesnt have a timebomb in the house 24/7) (or at least the timebomb doesnt explode around him !!). bcsr still mentions who sirius should associate himself with, still is disappointed when he doesnt get a good grade (an E instead of an O), he yells at sirius, maybe he raises a hand at him too - but at the end of the day sirius finds him justified because he's the one who took sirius under his wing, and is helping him, and is nice to him, and this is really what parents do to their children, right?

here is also when the post comes in btw: bcsr feels entitled to sirius' life, his idea of a parent/child relationship is ownership, and unfortunately that's sirius' view of it too, but bcsr is a lot calmer and quieter than walburga, he cares more than orion - to sirius its really the best of both worlds. bcsr wants sirius to go in politics which sirius does not want because he already has whatever career he's chosen for himself, and bcsr feels it necessary that sirius follow his - his own son wont.

bcsr does need sirius, he confides in him, he loves him (in his own fucked up way). sirius moves on, he runs away and gets farther and farther away from everything that reminds him of Before and feels resentment that bcsr (a man who he's considered his strongest father figure for years) doesn't even reach out to him once. bcsr feels that its a child's responsibility to reach out every time - he feels betrayed that sirius didn't runaway to him, that he didnt even know sirius had runaway till someone told him in passing. the letters they exchanged come to an abrupt end and it just feels like everything ended in the middle of it yk. barty crouch sr doesnt see sirius till sirius is arrested, soon after his own bio son is x

(also, yes sirius does still have the potters, but the potters are a completely different world to him. he's not used to that kind of completely unconditional love, he's not used to seeing how they shower their heir son in love. its a little bittersweet, it feels like a fantasy, sirius feels like he's intruding, he fills resentment to james for being raised with parents who love him and ofc he doesnt want that so he finds solace elsewhere. he thinks the potters are angels on earth, his relationship with bcsr is what the normal parent/child relationship. if walburga and orion are a 10 on the scale of what sirius considers to be 'bad parents', euphemia and fleamont are in the negative. bcsr falls somewhere in the middle, like a 2 or 3 to sirius. to bcjr, sirius can recognize, that bcsr is horrible. he yells, may hit, he's permanently disappointed when they do interact. they barely ever do - bcsr is always busy, he makes special time for sirius (which makes sirius giddy bc wowzers am i that important?) which cuts out even more time from bcsr and bcjr to interact. also, bcsr calls sirius son and he doesnt call bcjr son. sirius is lowk a homewrecker i love him.).

[sskk-manifesto]

Bungou Stray Dogs: Dead Apple and how “ability users” (opposite to “normal people”) learning to accept themselves through the acceptance of their own abilities is a queer metaphor of acceptance of own's sexual orientation and gender: an essay by me

[medicinemane]

Mike johnson has so god damn much blood on his hands, obviously Ukrainian blood, but also plenty of American blood

Refusing to renew something that helps vets exposed to atomic blast and Americans who were downwind of the fall out... it's just sick. I can't fucking stand mike johnson, he's one of the worst scum to ever be in congress, and that's fucking saying something

"Johnson refused to allow House members to vote on bipartisan legislation to renew and improve the program"

Fucking quivering little pimple seems to have a real MO for just wringing his hands while insisting it's not his fault, he just can't do the one fucking part of his job of putting shit up to a vote... oh boo hoo, so sad, he'll just have to unilaterally let funding expire on things instead of literally just putting it up to our elected representatives to see if they want to vote yay or nay

Single handedly make the choices but it's not his fault when they work out how they do

Murderer

[therevengeoffrankenstein]

openly weeping at the idea of someone genuinely hating soul punk.

[denkies]

🐈 clan-confessions  Follow

i'll never say this publicly but honestly i think tigerstar had some valid ideas about having one big clan. obviously he was super wrong with all the violence and force, but one big clan could solve a lot of issues. No more border patrol fighting, more food for everyone during leaf-bare season, no drama involving cross-clan mates, etc etc. a lot of deaths could be avoided if we all took care of one another instead of fighting all the time

🌠 fishluvr76  Follow

ok are we all going to ignore that anon is siding with a literal DICTATOR??? :/

🌸 sweet-tooth  Follow

That's not what they meant and you KNOW it. They brought up some valid points about preserving lives, and denounced Tigerstar's actions as much too violent. Starclan above, no cat can have an opinion these days...

🌒 singlequeen7  Follow

Honestly I don't know how I feel about this... each Clan is beautifully unique and has their own traditions, which would fade away if Clans were desolved altogether. But OP makes a valid point about less violence and food scarcity. I hate the idea of sending my kits off to become Warriors, only for them to die during a stupid argument about Sunningrocks. A pile of rocks is NEVER worth a cat's life, whether they are in your Clan or not. And we have lost lives like that before.

🍄 medicinepawz  Follow

I agree! Traditions are important, but every medicine cat knows that working together saves lives. Sharing herbs can stop the spread of greencough, and sharing prey stops kits from crying from hunger. We really need a better system, because I can't cry myself to sleep another night, blaming myself for not having enough cobwebs to stop a kit from bleeding out in front of me.

🐅 lonelywarrior5346-deactivated

leave it to a woman and a medicine cat to emotionally manipulate proud warriors into giving up our PURECLAN bloodlines and Clan patriotism lolol

🍄 medicinepawz   Follow

HELLO?????

🐛 bug-enjoyer  Follow

> complains about "emotional manipulation" (it wasn't?)

> proceeds to be misogynystic AND racist in the same sentence???

> we get it babygirl, you want to fuck Tigerstar. weird ass mf.

🐈‍⬛ moondrops  Follow

"Lonelywarrior5346" is Flintstep from Riverclan btw

🌸 sweet-tooth  Follow

LMFAOOOOWAGWHQAKDHOA

🫐 berrycloud  Follow

GET HIS ASS

🌌 dorkstar  Follow

nah bc which one of you killed this dude yesterday lmfao 😭💀

🌸 sweet-tooth  follow

NO ARE YOU FR

🐛 bug-enjoyer  Follow

@ dorkstar say sike right now 😭😭

🌌 dorkstar  Follow

border patrol found him dead in a ravine 😭 yall play too much

🫐 berrycloud  Follow

when i said get his ass i did not mean like this

[lnfours]

close to you | l.n

summary: chemical override, ultraviolet, you could be mine tonight ; or having a crush is mind boggling, soul crushing and confusing, but also so exciting at the same time.

warnings: inspired by close to you by gracie abrams, friends to lovers (bc it’s my brand), pining, all the feels, reader is childhood best friends with pietra, fluff, and some language here and there

jordans notes: hi everyone! long time no see (😅) i’m slowly getting back into writing, school has been kicking my ass. i don’t think this is my best work, but i really wanted to get something out for you guys since ive been gone so long! i promise there’s more to come than just this! i hope you all are well!! sending you all my love 🤍

masterlist | listen to the playlist

before you met him, you didn’t think about the color green too often. it was one of those colors you didn’t necessarily love or hate, it was just kind of… there.

to you, it was just one of those colors where shades of it were prettier than the actual color itself. or a color you only really liked during the fall. like how, typically, people only liked the color blue during the summer.

that was until you met him.

the boy with those big, beautiful, slightly blue but slightly green, water-colored eyes. now you love the color green. obsessed over it. thought about it every second of every day. it was crazy how a simple opinion could change in a matter of seconds, all because of those stupidly pretty eyes.

You lie awake on your back, staring at the ceiling. surely it wasn’t normal to obsess over someone this much, right? especially over someone you weren’t even sure would ever feel the same.

sure, you had crushes before, and had your fair share of falling quickly and all at once. it wasn’t an unusual feeling to you, no stranger to catching feelings rather quickly.

but this time around, everything was different. everything felt more intense, more mind-boggling and confusing and pulse rising. the feeling so foreign that sometimes you wish you had never met him so you wouldn’t have fallen so hard so sudden, but deep down you were so glad that you had.

it was the little things that made you wonder what it was like to be loved by him. the subtle glances in your direction, the gentle but lingering touches. you had thought you were going crazy, reading too much into things in the beginning. over-analyzing every little thing that made your body light up with excitement.

until pietra confirmed your suspicions.

“he’s totally into you,” she said, leaning closer to your ear as you watched him from across the room, his head tilted back, nose scrunched and eyes half shut as he laughed about something max had said, which was likely something stupid, “like, one hundred percent, down bad, into you.”

you tilted your head at the blonde, “you think so?”

she scoffed, “more like know so,”

“who told you?”

“no one has to tell me anything,” she said, “i can just tell.”

you rolled your eyes at her, “p, i’ve told you a million times, he’s not into me.”

but she was right. he was one hundred percent, undoubtedly, down. fucking. bad.

ever since the moment he met you at that stupid pub with max and his group of friends, all he wanted to do was get to know you. he didn’t want it to seem obvious when he asked max about you, but he knew no matter what he did it was going to seem obvious. just from the way he looked at you like you hung the stars in the night sky, he was no where near subtle.

he hated to admit it, but he had even done some lowkey instagram stalking through one of his private accounts. he had seen all the pictures of you and pietra, a life long friendship explained to him in front of his own eyes.

and every time his fingers would swipe through your account, all he could think about was how beautiful you were. how your eyes sparkled every time you smiled for the camera, how happy you looked when you genuinely laughed, and how he wished to be the reason behind the gorgeous sound forever.

he wasn’t trying to make it obvious tonight, not wanting to make it well known that he had his eyes on you for a while. but he had lost track at the amount of times you had caught him looking at you, and he swore he had even caught you looking at him first a handful of times.

so when everyone in the house decided that it was the end of the night and started filing through the door, he took it upon himself to make his way over to you. you were talking with pietra, a smile on your face as you giggled about something she had said. the brazilian woman’s eyes landed on him, to which she looked back at you and said something before you turned to look in his direction.

he smiled when your eyes met his, “hey, did you need a ride home?”

your heart threatened to leap out of your chest, “uhm, i was just gonna call an uber, you don’t have to-“

“no, no,” he said, shaking his head, “i insist, really. it’s not a big deal.”

how could you argue with him? those pretty green eyes, that smile, the face. you simply couldn’t. it was impossible. you couldn’t see the look pietra was giving you, but knowing her, you knew it was a look that said ‘go with him’.

and do you did, the cool, crisp autumn air in london suddenly making you wish you had brought a jacket. you had wished you planned for the nightly breeze, wishing you had opted for a long-sleeved shirt for the night instead of the spaghetti strap tank top you had chosen.

as you walked to the car that was parked down the street, he noticed you shivering. he saw the way you hugged yourself, your hair moving with the breeze. his curls danced in the wind and he knew if he was slightly cold, you were definitely freezing.

he tugged off the hoodie before passing it to you, the sound of the doors to the mclaren echoing before he turned to you.

“here,” he said, “it’s a little windy out, i know you’re probably freezing.”

your stomach did backflips as you took the soft black material from his hands, “oh, are you sure? aren’t you cold?”

he sent you a shrug, “i’ll live,”

there was no use arguing with him, so instead you sent him another smile in appreciation before tugging the sweatshirt over your head. it was already warm from hugging his body, and you couldn't help the way the smell of his cologne lingered in the soft material. you had to keep yourself from burying yourself in it, the feeling of being close to him without actually being close to him sending butterflies to your stomach.

the car ride was filled with comfortable silence, music softly playing in the background. he stole occasional looks over at your figure as you looked out the window, the neck of his hoodie pulled up to your face as you watched the street lights pass by. you looked beautiful in the dim light, he couldn’t help himself.

he thought about taking the long way to your house. a simple but effective way to be able to spend more time with you. however, the thought of you being confused and questioning his actions was enough for him to stay straight at the stop light instead of taking a right for the longer way.

he tried not to look disappointed when he reached your house, parking in front of it. he wondered if your roommates were home, if you’d tell them about the fact that he drove you home.

he turned the engine off, unclicking his seatbelt, “i’ll walk you up.”

you nodded, the both of you getting out of the car and walking through the dewy grass up to the wooden door. you fished for your keys in your purse, putting them into the lock before turning to look at him, “thanks for the ride,”

“anytime,” he smiled. he meant it. and you knew he meant it. he’d come get you at anytime of the day, wether it was early in the morning or late at night, he was always going to show up.

you stood there, eyes searching his face. he was so pretty to you, the brown curls that were slowly growing into a mullet to the sparkling eyes that you loved so much. the dimples in his cheeks that appeared whenever he smiled, the slight facial hair he had managed to grow, but your favorite part was the moles and freckles that covered his skin. the ones he had once complained about, but you loved the way they scattered his skin.

you dreamt of kissing each and every single one of them.

“hey, lando! long time no see!”

you both averted your attention, neither of you hearing the door open behind you. in the doorway stood your dark haired roommate, faith.

“hey,” he smiled softly, trying once again to not look disappointed from the way your moment was interrupted.

“we’re having drinks and watching movies if you wanted to join,” she smiled, ignoring the look you were sending her way.

“oh, uhm,” he started, not sure how to answer, “it’s getting kinda late, i dunno-“

“you can crash in y/n’s room, im sure she wouldn’t mind.”

what was that supposed to mean?

you looked over at him, “you don’t have to stay-“

“he’s been gone for weeks, he’s legally obligated,” she said, reaching from the doorway and grabbing both of your arms, “c’mon, liv is making martinis.”

you sighed heavily and he laughed softly at your protest that went unnoticed by her. your other roommate, olivia, stood in the kitchen.

“look who i found!” faith exclaimed excitedly.

“oh, hey guys! just in time,” she smiled, “it’s martini and movie friday!”

lando leaned over to you as the other two talked, “they do this every friday?”

you sighed again, nodding, “unfortunately,” you turned to your roommates, “we’re gonna head up to my room, actually,”

you led lando to the stairs, ignoring the playful teasing from the girls in the kitchen, “oooh!!”

“up to your room, huh?”

you shook your head, opening your bedroom door and letting him in before closing it, “‘m sorry for them, they’re… how do i put this?”

“a lot?” he asked, a smile playing at his lips.

“yeah, we can put it that way.”

he chuckled, sitting down on the bed as you put your things down. he looked around your bedroom, not much had changed since the last time he had been in it. the fairy lights dimly lit up the room, photos littered the walls. the desk that sat in the corner of the room kept your makeup bag and brushes, a mirror sitting in the middle.

he looked at your nightstand, a picture of you, him, max and pietra sitting on the wooden surface. it was a picture from miami, smiles on all of your faces. you stood in the middle, arm wrapped around his middle as you smiled for the camera, his trophy in the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your middle.

“i’m gonna change,” you said, “i might have a pair of your sweatpants somewhere if you wanted to change.”

he nodded, “yeah, that’d be great.”

you turned back to the dresser, opening drawers in search for the pair of sweatpants he leant you one day. the same day he picked you up from the failed date. the one that left you crying outside, swearing up and down that you’d never find love. despite it being in front of you this entire time.

finally finding the black material, you handed them to him, “i meant to give them back, but i just haven’t seen you,”

he shook his head. you could’ve kept them forever and he wouldn’t have minded one bit, “it’s alright,”

you grabbed your pajama bottoms from the foot of the bed, “be right back.”

he changed into the sweatpants while you were gone, still looking around your room. he smiled at the picture of you and your roommates, clearly taken at a party. you wore the prettiest smile he had ever seen, dressed in a black off the shoulder top. it was from the same night he realized he liked you in more than just a friendly way.

the door opening brought him back to reality, his eyes landing on your figure and how you were still wearing the black hoodie he had given you earlier. it brought a small smile to his face.

you noticed his eyes on you, looking down at the black hoodie, “i swear i’ll give it back once i wash it.”

he laughed softly, shaking his head, “it’s okay. it looks better on you anyways.”

you smiled, fighting the heat that was rising your cheeks but it was no use. he joined you on the bed, watching as you flipped through different things on netflix.

“you don’t have to stay, y’know,” you said, looking over at him, “if you have better things to do..”

“i don’t,” he said, turning his head to look your way, “in all honesty, there’s no where else i’d rather be.”

you sucked in a breath, your eyes dancing across his face once again. it was hard for you not to stare, not when he looked so pretty like this. back pressed against your headboard, hair slightly messy, and he looked so cozy. it made you want to wrap yourself around him, lay your head on his chest.

he did the same, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every single feature, every single imperfection that he thought was still perfect. the same ones you’d argue about, but he still always found adorable.

his voice broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two of you, “do you ever have something to say but can’t find the words to say it?”

your furrowed your eyebrows, “like?”

he licked his lips, his attention now fixed on his hands as he fiddled with the ring on his middle finger. you never thought he’d be the type to get shy, almost embarrassed as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

“like, i dunno,” he mumbled, “i just.. i don’t know how to put it, but ever since the moment we met, i’ve found myself just.. thinking about you. thinking about what it’d be like to cross this weird, thin, little line we’ve drawn. if we both just said ‘fuck it’ and dove head first into whatever uncharted territory we’re tiptoeing around.”

his eyes met yours again as he let out a nervous breath. you hadn’t realized you had been holding yours, shock clearly written on your face which made him shake his head.

“never mind, it’s dumb-“

“lando,”

“- i knew i shouldn’t have listened to what max was going on about-“

you rolled your eyes as he kept blabbering away, talking nonsense. your body moving before your brain could comprehend what you were about to do, only catching up when your hands met his jaw and you were suddenly catching yourself a mere few inches from his face.

it was too late now, no going back.

you pulled his face closer to yours, his blabbering coming to a halt when you pressed your lips to his. his brain short circuited, you pulling away before he had the chance to kiss you back.

“‘m sorry,” you immediately apologized, “i don’t know why i did-“

it was his turn to cut you off now, grabbing your chin and pulling you back to his lips. his thumb traced along your jaw, his pointer finger sitting underneath your chin.

you kissed him back after a second of surprise, letting his free hand reach down to grab your hip, pulling you on top of his lap. your hands threaded through his curls, nails scratching his scalp.

when you both finally pulled away, all you could do was smile. giggles and chuckles echoing through the room as you both sat breathless, his nose bumping yours as he tucked a piece of stray hair away from your face.

“so we’re in agreement then, huh?” he asked.

“isn’t that obvious?” you smiled and he shook his head, letting out another boyish laugh.

“how long have you.. y’know, had feelings for me, i guess?”

“since the minute i saw you,” he confessed, “you were the most beautiful girl in the room, a smile that would make everyone stop and stare. it’s always been you, i’ve just been too scared to tell you.”

you smiled again, heart fluttering in your chest. all the dreams and wishes you spent with him on your mind, it was all finally paying off, “it’s always been you for me, too. i thought i had been way too obvious, but clearly i wasn’t obvious enough.”

“we were both too oblivious,” he said, moving more hair from your face, “but it’s okay, we’re here now.”

you were convinced your smile was never going to be wiped off your face, “kiss me again,”

“with pleasure,” he mumbled, lips finding yours once more as you melted into him.

[mad-hunts]

as far as jack could tell, jervis was really out of it; and it made him wonder it was due to something that had happened while he was out with his father, or when they'd gotten here. perhaps both. jack gnawed on his bottom lip, his eyes darting to jervis's hands, which were flexing like he was struggling with something. an eyebrow rose as jack contemplated asking whether he needed some pain medication.

since he didn't receive an answer to his question yet, jack figured he might as well introduce himself. ❝ uhh, well, you don't have to talk to me if you aren't feeling up to it. my sister told me that you fainted in front of her out there — so, i understand if you're still feeling sick. my name is jack, ❞ he scratched at the back of his neck as he continued to observe jervis. whenever the man tried to get up, jack approached him and was about to caution jervis that maybe he shouldn't by lightly touching his shoulder.

but he remembered matilda telling him something about the other really not liking to be touched, so he merely was going to verbally tell him. up until jervis laid back down himself, anyhow. jack couldn't hold himself back from frowning at his poor present state before venturing out of the room with a 'i'll be right back.' and indeed he had been, with two different vials, alongside a few syringes to inject into that IV bag: should jervis want to be medicated. jack figured it'd be easier to just do that rather than forcing him to swallow anything.

he placed those also on the table before tilting his head at the quote jervis had said until it clicked a few seconds later, ❝ that's a quote from through the looking glass, isn't it? and one that the red queen said in the story if i remember correctly. she was basically teaching alice that staying in the same place is falling behind, right? ❞ jack squinted his eyes at that before a thought came to mind. a soft snort left him, but one that was done of an innocent sort of amusement rather than malice. ❝ that is a kind of roundabout way of talking about survival of the fittest. but hey, lewis carroll was all about the whimsy of things, i guess. and its no big deal. ❞

jack pretended not to see the tears that the other shed for jervis's own sake. the blood on his lips was something he couldn't ignore, no matter how hard he tried, though. jack grabbed a washcloth from his pack and held it out towards's jervis's hand. once it was out of his hand was when jack set down that teacup, the slightly too long stripped pants he wore swaying across the ground. ❝ mm, you and dad were both asleep for nearly four hours. sure — i don't think that's silly at all. i keep something on me all the time from when my brother, julien, was still around. ❞ the bracelet he showed the other on his right wrist then seemed to be made up entirely of tiny conch shells.

julien was a big fan of the sea, which jack thought made his death all the more crushing. after seeing the state that the stuffed animal was in, he figured that that bunny must've been really loved; though it didn't really matter by whom it was. the end result was the same, as love changes you. jack knew this well as he'd never wanted anything more than to be embraced by the warmth of it.

he quickly shook that thought off, only to grab the two vials he got from the fridge once more. ❝ eh... the four hours actually went by rather fast. ❞ jack cleared his throat then, ❝ you know, i couldn't help but notice that you aren't looking so hot still, and so i grabbed some meds for you. but i won't force you to take them. i have a pain reliever as well as something that relieves vertigo. are either, or both of these, something you want? ❞

Eigengrau.

A faint hum buzzed in his ears; his mouth was so dry it felt like he’d swallowed a wad of wool.

The thin sheet beneath him brushed his fingertips as Jervis flexed his hands, cracking his eyes open a sliver. The room tilted, everything blurring at the edges. Ah… so he had fainted. Just as he’d suspected. No glasses, then.

"Hey. Ahh, you're awake… That's awesome. How are you feeling?"

The new voice was barely a whisper, young and uncertain—belonging to a boy, maybe sixteen or eighteen by the timber. Was this another of Barton's assistants, a friend of Matilda’s, or perhaps her brother? Jervis couldn’t quite remember; hadn't Barton mentioned something about having more than one child?

He winced, his body feeling heavy, leaden; aching everywhere. Slowly, he exhaled and tried to push himself upright—tried being the keyword. The effort brought only a wave of vertigo, dizzying and blue-hot, making his vision swim.

… ohh, god…

He swallowed thickly, curling into himself. Something wasn’t right. His glasses and gloves weren’t the only thing missing. He was in his socks, jeans, and a now damp charcoal t-shirt, his body slick with cold sweat. His graying auburn curls clung to his neck in tangled ropes. His boots were beside the cot, his messenger bag on a desk across the room. His overcoat and maroon button-down were draped over a chair.

A flicker of discomfort in his right arm. Burning. Tugging.

Jervis glanced down at the source: a plastic tube. A peripheral IV catheter.

"Ah, you know... 'It takes all the running you can do, to stay in the same place,'" he muttered, his voice clipped and hollow; Bermudian accent casual, almost detached. He turned his eyes to the boy; offered him a faint, strained smile. "Keeps things interesting, I suppose... but I appreciate your concern, lad."

He lifted his fingers to his cheek, feeling the moisture trickle down—salt on his lips. Tears, sharp and stinging. Jervis flinched and quickly scrubbed them away with the heels of his hands.

Cold metal pressed into his spine, tight around his neck—the chain with his and Sylvie’s wedding rings twisted against his skin. He must’ve been thrashing in his sleep. There was blood on his lips.

"Forgive me…" His vision swam as he watched the boy set a teacup on the small table beside the cot, just within view. "But I'm afraid I've rather lost my sense of time. How long has it been since I…?" He paused, his voice barely steady. "... if... if you don’t mind, could you please reach into my coat pocket? You'll find a small cuddly toy. A rabbit..." He rubbed his mouth, lowered his eyes. "It sounds foolish, I know... but it... it was my daughter's, you see..."

The boy nodded, moving quickly to retrieve the toy from Jervis’ coat pocket, and placed it on the table beside the teacup. The bunny was missing one of its button eyes, its white fur faded and matted. A pink satin ribbon around its neck was frayed and tattered.

“Thank you,” Jervis said hoarsely. “I must have been out of it for quite a while.”

[softspiderling]

god, it's brutal out here | r.c.

summary:

“And yet you’re still thinking of your ex,” Barry finished the sentence, rubbing his chin. “Why don’t you get back together with her?”

“She doesn’t want me.”

“God, fucking Country Club,” Barry snickered. “You’re fucking dense.”

OR; 5 times your friends share their unsolicited opinions about your and Rafe’s break up.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: mention of c*caine

word count: 5,4k

author’s note: the long awaited sequel of so obsessed with your ex! this can be read as a standalone fic, but there are little easter eggs hidden all over, which will be more fun if you read the first part! it's a little bit longer than I had planned, but there was no way around it. I hope you enjoy it so so much!!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

I Wheezie

“Hey Wheeze.”

You had accepted the facetime without looking at your phone, keeping it rested on a shelf while you were halfway into your closet, trying to find a dress.

“Does Rafe have a new girlfriend??”

Pausing, you shut your eyes, letting out a silent exhale before you picked up the phone, giving Wheezie a wry smile through the camera.

“Nice to see you too.”

The girl only looked at you, unimpressed and her arms crossed. You sighed, running a hand through your hair, knowing you didn’t have a way out of this conversation. Grabbing your phone, you sat down on your bed.

“Yes, Rafe has a new girlfriend.”

“I knew it!” Wheezie shrieked, throwing her arms up, and you only shook your head in exasperation. The tendency for drama clearly was in the Cameron genes. Wheezie frowned, getting closer to your phone as she looked at you.

“Why am I more upset about this than you are?”

You bit back another sigh. “Because Rafe and I are broken up, Wheeze. He’s allowed to date other people, matter of fact, I’m really glad that he has moved on.”

“Bullshit!”

“Wheezie!”

Wheezie rolled her eyes, but she sat back down, crossing her arms over her chest again. “I don’t like her.”

“You don’t even know her,” you sighed, rubbing your temple, feeling a migraine coming on.

“This is crazy!” Wheezie exclaimed. “You and Rafe never should’ve broken up in the first place! Rafe is probably only dating her to make you jealous so you’ll take him back.”

You couldn’t help but snort at that, Wheezie clearly watched way too many rom-coms. She frowned at you.

“Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny, this is, like, super un-funny.”

“Because, Wheeze,” you started, plucking a feather out of your pillow. “This isn’t some 90’s rom-com where I see Rafe with Rebecca and suddenly a sad song is playing. This is real life. We are broken up.”

“I still don’t understand why.”

“Remember when we used to fight all the time? And I was just always sad?”

Wheezie was quiet, her lips still pursed. “Yeah. But that doesn’t mean anything. Couples fight all the time, doesn’t mean you just have to break up.”

“Yes, couples fight all the time and they don’t have to break up, but it was the right decision for me and Rafe,” you said, your tone final. Wheezie looked at you, her frown slowly smoothing down.

“If you say so,” she muttered, not quite convinced. She stared down at her chipped finger nails, before she looked up again. “Can we still talk?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Of course we can still talk, why wouldn’t we?”

“I don’t know… I mean, you’re gonna find a new boyfriend and maybe he has a younger sister as well and then I’ll just be your ex’s younger sister.”

“Wheeze,” you said, fondly, knowing where she was coming from. You had been in her life for most of her teenage years, it must be weird not having you around anymore. “We’ll still talk, no matter if I get a new boyfriend or not, even if he has a cool younger sister, or even three.”

Wheezie smiled, rolling her eyes at you. “You’re so dumb.”

“Yet you still want me around,” you teased. “How about you, Sar and I go get some ice cream and then to the movies this weekend?”

“Sounds good,” Wheezie replied with a big smile. She paused when someone called her name from somewhere in the house, before she turned back to her phone. “I gotta go, Rose needs me. I’ll text you later.”

“Alright, Wheeze. Talk to you later, be good.”

Wheezie waved into the camera, before the facetime ended. Your smile dropped and you tossed your phone on your bed with a sigh, letting yourself fall back on your bed. Even six months after the break up it was still hard to talk about Rafe, and now that he had a new girlfriend, you thought it’d be easier to get over him, but all it did was hurt more. It didn’t help that Rafe was still texting you every now and then. Nothing scandalous, just small texts, but you never replied. You both agreed on no contact after the break up, because you thought it’d give you a better opportunity to heal. You should’ve known he’d break it. Picking up your phone, you unlocked it, swiping to your messages.

Rafe [11/30/23: 1:43 am]: couldn’t sleep. remember when we took out the boat at two am bc we both drank a red bull at ten?

Rafe [11/30/23: 11:22 am]: sorry, i was drinking. didn’t mean to text you. hope you’re doing good

Rafe [12/25/23: 2:44 pm]: merry christmas. it’s weird without you.

Rafe [01/01/24: 01:02 am]: happy new year’s.

Rafe [01/05/24: 9:56 pm]: are you really not gonna text me back?

Rafe [01/27/24: 3:07 am]: i miss you

Rafe [02/12/24: 12:05 pm]: saw you at the party last night. you looked so fucking pretty. took everything in me not to talk to you.

Rafe [03/01/24: 7:12 pm]: idk if you care or not, but i still wanted to let you know. i’m seeing someone

You never replied to any of the texts, knowing it was for the better. You could block him, but you never brought it over your heart to do so, telling yourself you wanted him to reach you in case of emergency, but deep down, you didn’t want to block him.

Just incase.

II Barry

“Want some C?” Barry asked as greeting, presenting Rafe a small baggie with white powder in it as soon as he walked onto the lot.

“Nah,” Rafe declined, already feeling jittery enough without it, “Won’t say no to a beer though.”

Barry let out a grunt, tossing the baggie on the table, disappearing inside the trailer. Rafe took a seat in one of the chairs, running his hand over his buzzed head, bouncing his leg nervously. He had needed to get out of the house for a while. Ever since Rebecca pulled the picture out of the drawer, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Again.

Which is fucked up, really. He thought he got over you, he didn’t want to be the guy who thought about his ex while having a whole ass girlfriend. The door to the trailer opened with a slam, Barry exiting with two beer cans, handing Rafe one of them. The can was ice cold in his hands, and the cold liquid helped with his racing heart. He let out a sigh, rubbing a thumb over his eye brow. Rafe took another gulp of the beer, almost drinking the entire can in one go, while Barry watched him, assessing.

“You good?”

Rafe nodded, setting the can on the table.

“Yeah, jus’ stressed.”

“Work, or…?”

Barry trailed off without finishing his sentence and Rafe didn’t answer, wiping a finger over his jaw, which was clenched to the max.

Barry eyed him skeptically, leaning back in his chair. “How’s Mrs. Country Club?”

Rafe let out a loud sigh, tipping his head back, like he always did when he was annoyed with Barry.

“Barry, I don’t know if all the drugs you’re taking are starting to get to your memory, but we broke up.”

“Don’t be fucking rude,” he said, kicking Rafe’s chair. Not hard enough for it to tip over, but hard enough for Rafe to grip onto the arm rests, glaring at his friend. “How’d you know I wasn’t talking ‘bout your new girl?”

“Because you always call her Becky,” Rafe pointed out, giving him a look.

Barry shrugged, taking a sip from his beer. “You still know who ‘m talking about, so what’s the problem?”

“Problem is, it’s disrespectful. You know that’s not her name.”

“You’re still hung up on your ex while dating Becky, so who’s really disrespecting her?”

Rafe’s head shot up and the glare he sent Barry was deadly.

“Fuck this shit, and fuck you,” he snapped, pushing himself up from the chair, but Barry grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“Boy, sit down.”

Rafe scowled at him, before sitting back down, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. He did not come all the way out to the cut to get called out like this.

“If you came here to be coddled, you went to the wrong person.”

“I don’t need to be coddled,” Rafe muttered with an eyeroll. “Just wanted to let off some steam.”

“So?” Barry snorted, waving his hands around. “Steam away.”

Rafe scoffed, scooting down in his chair, shaking his head. “Do you think I want to think of her? I fucking hate feeling like this. Bex is nice, and she’s hot. And yet-”

“And yet you’re still thinking of your ex,” Barry finished the sentence, rubbing his chin. “Why don’t you get back together with her?”

“She doesn’t want me.”

“God, fucking Country Club,” Barry snickered. “You’re fucking dense.”

“Nah, you don’t fucking get it, “ Rafe sneered, leaning his head in his hands. And he didn’t, not really. Which really wasn’t his fault. Rafe just didn’t want to talk about the break up with his friends. Physically couldn’t. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t told anyone why you broke up. Just made it feel all to real, he guessed.

“Nah, you’re right, I don’t,” Barry said, shaking his head. “All I know is, one day you’re all fucking sunshine and the next you’re more emo than that Friday girl.”

“What?” Rafe asked, lifting his head to stare at Barry in confusion.

Barry waved him off. “You know, that freaky girl from Netflix with the black lipstick.”

“Do you mean Wednesday?”

“Yeah, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, all the same to me,” Barry huffed. “Point is, life’s too fucking short to do things that don’t make you happy.”

“Bex makes me happy.”

Barry gave him a long, hard look, squinting his eyes at him. “Yeah, right. Whatever makes you sleep at night.”

Rafe stared back at him before shaking his head, finishing the last of his beer before crushing the empty can in his hand, declining to answer, because he knew he couldn’t convince Barry.

He wasn’t even convinced himself.

III Topper

top [05/03/24: 4:06 pm]: gonna be at alex’s later tonight with rafe and rebecca just fyi if you wanted to come

mrs. rafe [05/03/24: 4:57 pm]: k, thanks for letting me know

—— NEW MESSAGE ——

top [05/04/24: 1:37 am]: can you pick me up?

It was Saturday night, a little past your bedtime for a night in. You were getting ready for bed, exiting the bathroom when your phone buzzed in your hand. Lifting it, you read the new text, not quite believing he’d make you do this. What the fuck was he thinking asking you to pick him up? Shaking your head in disbelief, you typed out an answer.

mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: topper no

Before you could put the phone away, your phone already buzzed with an answer, and you nearly didn’t want to read whatever lame ass excuse he came up with, your hand stilling when your eyes flit over his text.

top [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: please, i don’t want to get a ride with rafe and rebecca

top [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: she asked me so many questions about you and i can’t be around rafe rn or i’ll tell him

mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:45 am]: … fine

mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:47 am]: you’re so annoying

Cursing Topper and yourself for not going to bed sooner, you put on a sweatshirt and grabbed your keys and purse, typing out another text before you headed out of the house, getting into your car.

mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:49 am]: be there in ten

top [05/04/24: 1:50 am]: omg i owe you <3

Barely ten minutes later, you pulled up in front of Alex’ house, looking out for Topper, before you spotted him underneath a tree. You rolled to a stop next to him, giving him the most unimpressed look.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Topper groaned, getting into the car, shutting the door behind him.

You rolled your eyes, pulling off the curb without another word, driving towards Topper’s house.

“I’m really sorry for asking you to come get me, but Rafe was looking for me and I had too much to drink already to lie in his face,” Topper said, leaning his back against the headrest, shutting his eyes.

You desperately wanted to know what Rebecca had asked but you didn’t want to come off as the nosy ex, even if this was Topper. So as nonchalantly as you could, you asked: “What did you talk about?”

“Jesus,” Topper said, running a hand through his hair. “She asked me how you guys broke up and wanted details, too. Was super insistent, I was kinda scared actually.”

Okay, so just normal sussing out the ex, you could deal with that.

“What did you say?”

“That it was a mutual break up and I didn’t know why you broke up, just that you suddenly disappeared from each other’s lives.”

You sighed. That was the vaguest answer you’d ever heard.

“Why didn’t you just tell her why we broke up?”

Topper glanced at you, his brows knitted together.

“How can I tell her something I don’t know?”

“What?”

You slammed on the breaks, nearly sending Topper flying through the windshield because the idiot hadn’t buckled up, while you stared at him.

“What do you mean you don’t know why we broke up?”

“I don’t!” Topper exclaimed. “Rafe refuses to talk about it and you never told me either.”

“Because I assumed Rafe has told you! It’s been like six months!”

Blinking at Topper, it took you a few seconds to process, jumping when someone honked their horn at you, when you remembered you had stopped in the middle of the street.

“Shit,” you muttered, shifting gears to keep on driving, eyes flitting to Topper repeatedly.

“So…” he started. “Why did you guys break up?”

You gripped the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white, letting out a deep breath. When you had left to come pick Topper up, you hadn’t expected having to tell him why you and his best friend had broken up.

“I was getting so worried about him. He was so stressed about the company every day, took home so much work and Ward was breathing down his neck to keep the numbers up. I told him that I thought he should take a step back, maybe take a break or something, tried to convince him of going on a trip or something, but the more I said, the more he seemed to be pushing himself into work. It got so bad that we were fighting basically every day, and it just wasn’t working anymore. It felt like we were going in circles.”

You cleared your throat when you felt yourself getting choked up, vision turning a little blurry from the tears in your eyes.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Topper exclaimed, patting himself down, looking for some tissues.

“Don’t worry about it,” you snorted, wiping your tears away with the sleeves of your sweatshirt. You were so wrapped up in trying to retell the break up, you hadn’t even noticed that you already reached Topper’s house. “I shouldn’t even still be getting so worked up over this after all this time,” you sniffed, turning your car off.

Topper looked at you, with that typical look on his face and you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. I can’t believe Rafe hasn’t told you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly? I think he might be in denial about it.”

You scoffed at him, shaking your head. Why was everyone so hung up over your break up?

“It’s been six months.”

Topper didn’t reply, his hand on the car door and you expected him to bid you good bye, but that was too easy.

“… Do you think you guys will get back together?”

“He has a girlfriend, Top.”

“Still. I don’t think that Rafe and Rebecca are gonna last very long.” Topper looked at you, pressing his lips together, before shaking his head. “Sorry. Thanks for coming and for getting me home. Text me if you need anything, okay?”

You nodded, giving him a small wave, and waited until he got out of the car, shutting the door behind him, before you turned your car on, pulling off.

“What the fuck,” you muttered to yourself, wiping the rest of the tears off as you drove home.

IV Kelce

“Kelce!”

Kelce looked up from the pool table, a smile growing on his face when he saw Rafe come down the basement, his friend wrapping an arm around him for a brief hug.

“Happy birthday, man,” Rafe said, handing Kelce a bottle of the expensive whiskey he always drank when he was at Rafe’s but too stingy to buy it for himself.

“Ah shit, you didn’t have to,” Kelce uttered, though his eyes were sparkling as he looked at the bottle in his hands. He handed the pool stick to one of the guys next to him, leading Rafe to the bar. He grabbed two glasses from the shelves, pouring Rafe and himself a good amount, offering one of the glasses to him.

“Cheers to you.”

The two clinked their glasses, before sipping on the whiskey. Kelce really enjoyed it, too, with the way he closed his eyes, and Rafe only snorted in his glass. Kelce peaked his eye open, shoving his friend fondly with a grin.

“Rebecca here?”

“Yeah, upstairs.”

Kelce hummed in thoughts, nodding absentmindedly. He stared into his glass, swishing the amber liquid around before he spoke up again.

“You know she’s here, too, right?”

Rafe tensed, knowing exactly that Kelce was talking about you, but he had expected it. Firstly, because you and Kelce had always been friends, and secondly because he had heard Sarah making plans with you to go together. Didn’t mean this felt any less of a punch to the gut. He really hoped he wouldn’t run into you, because he wasn’t quite sure what he’d do; all he knew was, that Bex wasn’t gonna like it. Rafe cleared his throat, forcing himself to sound nonchalant.

“I figured, yeah.”

“That okay?” Kelce asked, and Rafe was starting to get annoyed, rolling his eyes. Why was Kelce questioning him about you on his damn birthday? He tried to dampen his anger though, not wanting to ruin the night.

“Yes. It’s your birthday, man.”

As soon as those words left his mouth, Rafe knew he did a shit job of hiding his emotions, and Kelce eyed him suspiciously.

“I don’t get you guys,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You got a new girl, but you still haven’t gotten over your ex, clearly, but every time I mention her, you act like it’s the worst thing in the world, but neither of you have said a bad word about the other.

Rafe scoffed, though his heart started to race at the thought of you talking about him. He wondered what you had said, if you cared enough to ask about him, or if you had long moved on.

“Are you ever gonna tell me why you guys broke up?”

“Maybe next time.”

Kelce gave him a wry smile, knowing this was Rafe avoiding the topic again. He lifted his head when more people starting coming down the basement, curling his hand around Rafe’s shoulder to give him a squeeze.

“I really hope you figure it out bro, because this right now is not it.”

He then excused himself to welcome the new arrivals and Rafe gripped his glass, before downing it in one go.

“Alright, who wants to get destroyed in a round of pool?” he asked, clapping his hands together as he approached the pool table. Anything to stop himself from going upstairs to look for you.

V Sarah

“Oh my god, I thought you were gonna keep talking to her forever!”

You gave Sarah a look. She hadn’t even waited a minute after you left Rebecca on the couch before she started talking about her.

“I don’t have a problem with her.”

Sarah groaned, linking her arm with yours as to not lose you in the crowd that has formed in Kelce’s house. You were glancing around, hyper aware that you could run into Rafe any second, but you didn’t want Sarah to notice.

“I don’t understand how you can be so chill. Did you not see the picture she had in her purse?”

You sighed, brushing your hair back over your shoulder. Was this ever going to stop? “Sar, please.”

“Hello?? That was super freaky.”

“Maybe she was just cleaning up and wanted to throw it in the trash and forgot it in her purse.”

Sarah laughed dryly, shaking her head. “Bullshit! Admit that you find it weird.”

“Okay, maybe it is a little weird,” you admitted. “But don’t you do things that are a little weird sometimes? Maybe she’s just a little insecure. Which I wouldn’t blame her for, you’re so mean. Shouldn’t you try and be her friend or something?”

“Why? She’s not gonna be around much longer anyways, and I already have a friend.”

You rolled your eyes, fishing your keys out of your purse to unlock your car. Again with the sentiment that Rafe and Rebecca weren’t gonna last much longer. You decided against deeming that statement with an answer and got into your car, with Sarah getting into the passenger seat.

“Do you want to grab some burgers?” She asked, buckling up, like she hadn’t just told you that your ex and his new girlfriend weren’t gonna last.

You gave her a look as you tossed your purse to the back.

“What do you mean do I want to grab burgers? I thought you wanted to leave because you’re meeting John B early in the morning.”

Sarah blinked at you, before she reached out to give you a shove on the forehead. “I was lying so we could get away, stupid.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, starting your car as Sarah protested.

“What? I was getting weirded out by you being all besties with Rafe’s new girlfriend. I don’t even understand how you can be so nice to her knowing she’s all up on your man.”

“Pray tell, who’s my man again?”

“Don’t even,” Sarah huffed. “You guys dated forever, I know you still love each other. And let me tell you one thing,” she said, raising her eyebrows at you. “If you got a new boyfriend? Rafe would not be this nice to him like you were to Rebecca.” With that, Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, settling back against her seat.

You only sighed, starting your car in silence.

“Do you want to get burgers now or not?” you asked, extending a peace offer while looking over at Sarah. She glowered at you, before nodding with an eyeroll.

“Yes.”

BONUS + I Rafe

“I did, at the party last night… She said she’s happy that you have me, that she was worried about how you work too much.”

Rafe pushed the pasta on his plate around with his fork, too engrossed in his thoughts to even think about eating. He didn’t even notice how Dennis had stopped talking. Rafe looked up from his plate, only to see Dennis look at him intently, an amused grin on his face.

“Sorry, were you saying something?”

“I was saying a lot, but you seemed like you were on a completely different planet,” Dennis noted, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Rafe winced, putting his fork down.

“Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.”

“I can tell,” Dennis mused. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Something like that.”

Rafe sighed, leaning back in his chair. Ever since you broke up, Rafe has been assuming that you didn’t care about him anymore, that you had long moved on from him and your relationship. He thought that you resented him, blamed him for the break up, which was honestly the main reason why he went back to the dating scene so quickly; to get over you. But hearing that you still cared about him? Enough to be nice to his new girlfriend and even ask about him? He wondered if there was still a chance for him and you to be together again.

If it weren’t for the fact that he already had a girlfriend.

“Can I give you some unsolicited advice, son?”

“Do I have a choice?” Rafe asked with a wry grin and Dennis only let out a belly laugh, shaking his head.

“Rafe, most relationships these days end because of your own ego, from both parties. No matter how big the fight or problem seems, will it really be that important in hindsight?” Dennis asked him. “How long have you an your girl been together? Almost 5 years, no?”

Rafe nodded, not daring to correct Dennis. He had never outright told him that you had broken up in the first place.

“See, that’s half a decade. I can assure you, in another half, you’re not even gonna remember this fight.”

Yeah, I don’t know about that, Rafe thought.

“Do you love her?”

Turning his ring on his finger, Rafe let out a soft exhale, before nodding. “Yeah, I do.”

“See. Problem solved.”

Rafe lifted his head to grin at Dennis.

“Thanks. Is it okay if we cut today short?”

“Sure,” Dennis said, waving Rafe off when he reached for his wallet. “Lunch is on me. Go get your girl.”

“I will,” Rafe promised, pushing his chair back to stand up. “I just gotta take care of something else first.”

BONUS + II You

You were staring at your phone, text thread with Rafe open. It was Saturday night; you and Sarah had went out to a small beach party. Sarah had gone to fill her drink back up and you had used that time of solace to overthink. About Rafe.

For the past few week, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. And you blamed your friends for it, really. First Wheezie, then Topper and then Sarah? Somehow all of them said that the break up was the worst idea, and even though you had always second guessed the choice to break up, this was the first time you actually actively regretted it.

The way Sarah seemed so sure that Rafe and Rebecca weren’t going to last long. Maybe you were wrong and they weren’t as happy as you thought. But then again, it wasn’t any of your business, was it? Who were you to put your nose into their relationship?

God, you shouldn’t be doing this.

“How long does Sarah need to fill her drink back up?” You muttered to yourself, finishing your vodka soda and burying the cup in the sand next to you, when you heard foot steps approaching.

“Finally! I was about to send a search group out for you!” you exclaimed, standing up and dusting the sand off your lap. “Seriously, how long does it take for-”

You froze when you turned around just to see Rafe standing in front of you, instead of Sarah. Swallowing thickly, you blinked at him, caught off guard.

“Rafe, hey,” you said, opting for casual. “Sorry. I thought you were Sarah.”

The corners of Rafe’s mouth twitched. “Yeah, I could tell.”

You looked at him, sighing a bit wistfully (mostly) internally, before you shifted on your feet nervously. “It was nice to see you,” you said, and it was true. “But um… I think I’ll go look for Sarah.” You gave him a small smile, before walking towards, and then past him.

“You’re still worried about me.”

You let out a startled laugh, pausing mid-step to turn back to him. “What?”

“You told Rebecca that you were glad that I had her and that you worried I work too much.”

“Of course I’m still worried about you,” you huffed, brushing your hair back. “You can’t be surprised about that.”

Rafe looked at you, and you could tell that this was news to him.

“Rafe.”

Rafe let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead. “You didn’t reply to any of my texts. I thought you were mad at me or somethin’.”

“I didn’t reply to any of your texts because we said we’d do no contact for a while.

“Still,” Rafe muttered, kicking a rock. “I didn’t think it would be so easy for you-”

“And because you were happy with Rebecca, do you think it’s easy for me to see you with someone else?”

“I broke up with Rebecca last week.”

“What?!”

Mouth agape, you stared at him and Rafe only rubbed the back of his neck. “She… Wasn’t what I wanted.”

“Oh,” you only said, letting out a soft exhale. “I’m sorry about that.”

Rafe sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His gaze was trained on the floor for a bit, before he lifted his head to look at you.

“I want to try again… I want us to try again.”

“Rafe…”

You swallowed thickly, your eyes wide and you didn’t move as Rafe took a step towards you, reaching for your hand. Your fingers were cold in his but they quickly warmed to his touch, and the way he laced his fingers with yours, felt all too familiar.

“I love you. I never should have agreed to breaking up. It was arguably the second stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

“And what’s the stupidest?” you asked, corners of your mouth lifting.

“Not listening to you when you were just trying to help,” he answered, looking down at you, so vulnerable like you hadn’t seen him in a long time. “I rearranged my schedule at the company so I could take on less work, take more time off and relax. Take the time to get us to where we were before it all went shitty.”

Your heart was in your throat as you listened to him talk, unsure what to say.

“Rafe, I don’t know… “

“Baby, please,” he begged, squeezing your hand. “Do you love me, still?”

You scoffed. “That’s not fair.”

“Why? Because you do?”

“Of course I still love you,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your lashes. “Do you know how hard it was for me to ignore your texts? To see you with another girl, so happy?”

Rafe shook his head, lifting his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I wasn’t. Not really.”

You let out another sigh, looking at the way your hands were intertwined, how your heart had stopped racing, before you nodded, looking up at him. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

A smile spread across Rafe’s face, so big it was so uncharacteristic for him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It was like that word switched a flip inside of him, as he grabbed you by your nape gently, to kiss you, slotting his lips against your, and as your lips touched, it felt like you were finally home again. You only pulled away to breathe, both of you staring at each other like you couldn’t quite realize this was happening.

Sarah [05/11/2024: 10:45 pm]: (sent to 4 contacts) [picture attached: blurry photograph of you and Rafe kissing at the beach]

Topper [05/11/2024: 10:46 pm]: thank god.

Kelce [05/11/2024: 10:51 pm]: FINALLY!

Wheezie [05/11/2024: 10:59 pm]: !!!!!!

Barry [05/11/2024: 11:02 pm]: read at 11:02 pm

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: sooo.... what are we thinking?

[mallowsweetmiri]

Best friend!Remus with no boundaries leaves you alone with James

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

It was another sunny afternoon spent studying in Remus’ dorm. You sat on his bed reading your Herbology textbook as Remus worked at his desk, finishing his Potions assignment. James was sprawled in the sunshine working on his Charms homework next to the open window.

“Y/N, can you pass me my vile of asphodel,” Remus said over his book, pointing to his potions trunk next to the bed. You hummed and leaned over the side of the bed, trifling through the case of potions ingredients.

“Erm, I think you’re out,” you replied, holding up the empty vile next to your face. Remus frowned and came over to the bed. He took a seat on the edge and took the vile from you. You crawled closer to him, resting your head in his lap as he flicked the vile. He sighed and ran his hand down your arm.

“I’m gonna have to go to the storage and get some ingredients,” Remus drawled, stroking your shoulder and neck with his long fingers. You hummed and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of your bestfriend’s hands on your body.

“While you’re at it, can you get some snacks from the kitchen? I can’t focus when I’m hungry,” you looked up at him through your lashes with a pout. He only chuckled at you and squeezed your cheek.

“Of course,” he grinned, scooting out from under you. You sighed as you rolled back on your stomach to read. Remus tsked and pulled your cotton shorts over your bum.

“You need to get a new pair of shorts, Y/N. I think you’ve outgrown those,” Remus said as he walked towards the door. You heard James chuckle out a breath from his bed. You stuck your tongue out at Remus as you sat up to pull your shorts down. Remus chuckled and left the dorm, shutting the door behind him. You huffed and fell back onto the bed. James laughed and shut his book.

"Remus' sure has a lot of opinions on your outfits," James teased, sitting up to stretch. You guys had been studying for a while.

"You know how he is. I don't see why my shorts being short is an issue though," you pouted, standing up and stretching over arms your head.

"Well, I think they look lovely, Y/N." James smiled at you. He was just the sweetest.

"Awww, thanks Jamie. You're always so kind," you gushed and sprang towards him for a hug. Even sitting on his bed he was nearly your height, but he had always seemed like a big teddy bear to you. James chuckled and he wrapped his arms around you.

"I'm just telling the truth. Just because Remus is your bestfriend doesn't mean his opinions are right," James joked. Your smile grew as you pulled back.

"You're so right, Jamie. Maybe I should start to listen to you more," you beamed, liking the idea of spending more time with James. He was right. You were always hanging around Remus so much, you had neglected what a good friend James was.

"I like the sound of that," James half grinned, his hands falling down to your waist. You blushed and smiled back. You'd never really been physically close with any of the other boys before, your friendship just wasn't like that. But why couldn't it be? James was nice to hug anyway.

"Can we take a break from studying?" You asked, playing with James' soft curls on the back of his neck. James hands stroked your hips as you stood between his legs.

"Isn't that what we're doing right now?" James laughed, still smiling at you. Gods, his eyes were so pretty. You couldn't focus on anything but his hands on your hips and his lips curved into that pretty smile.

"Well," you breathed, "What do you want to do?" You leaned in closer to him. James swallowed and let out another chuckle. You were starting to realize why you weren't so touchy with other friends.

"I can think of one thing," James charmed, pulling you by the hips towards him. Your lips landed on his, soft and warm as his tongue began to ask for permission. You let out a sigh and relaxed into his body, his hand coming up to your face to deepen the kiss. Another sigh escaped your lips as you moved to straddle his lap. He groaned as his hands found your hips once more, pushing you down onto him. You groaned when you felt him underneath you, rubbing up against your shorts. He was a good kisser too, biting gently on your lip as his hands made their way under your bum. If this was the result of wearing tiny shorts, you were going to wear them more often. Your thoughts escaped you as James' hands guided your hips over his, the rhythm matching the movements of his mouth. He was making your come undone with all of your clothes still on. You couldn't even imagine how good he'd feel with his clothes off. He groaned as he pushed you down over his length, his thumbs squeezing the front of your hips. You felt yourself starting to reach your edge as your hips began to take movements of their own. His tongue deepened the kiss while you moaned into his mouth. It felt like he knew every inch of your body already. Everything he was doing was sending you. Your sounds filled the room as his lips left yours to kiss under your jaw. His strong arms were wrapped around your middle as he teased down your neck. Your body was suddenly missing the friction, but James' arms were holding you still.

"James," you whined, squirming his arms. He chuckled into your neck.

"Just be patient, my love," he breathed, going back to nipping at your ear.

"We don't have time to be patient right now," you groaned, desperately needing to feel him. James hummed and gave your neck a soft kiss.

"You're right, we don't have time right now," James guided your head to look at him.

"But-"

"But I'll see you tonight?" He asked, a grin still plastered on his lips. You bit your lip as you smiled.

"Yes, I'll see you tonight." You blushed, giggling as you pulled yourself off of James. Maybe you'd gotten a bit carried away with your study break. James chuckled as he reached to pull your shorts down over your bum once again.

"Maybe Remus was right about these shorts," he smirked, thumbing the hem. You giggled as you heard the door open. Remus came into the room with an armful of viles. You and James let out a laugh. Good timing.

"Maybe," you winked at James and walked back over to Remus' bed. "Hi Rem. Did you bring snacks?" You plopped down onto his bed. Remus walked over and placed a tray in front you filled with sandwiches and crisps.

"Save me some," Remus nodded as he began to organize his potions supply on his desk.

"Do you want some Jamie?" you asked politely, turning to see James blush at you. His grin hadn't left his face. Remus' head perked at the nickname, but was too focused on finishing his assignment.

"I'm okay, Y/N. I'm actually gonna go run some quidditch drills. It's so nice out," James said casually, getting up to grab his quidditch bag.

"More for me," you shrugged and began to eat one of the halves. You watched James get his shoes on. His fingers looked so strong...

"Well, I'm out of here. Remus," James waved at Remus who responded with a nod. He turned to you, "See you later, Y/N." With a smile he ducked out of the room. You chuckled as you ate your sandwich, reaching for the book next to Remus' bed.

"Y/N," Remus sighed as he scribbled something onto his scroll, "why did James just say that?" You felt a smile tug at your lips.

"What? I can't hang out with James?" you chimed, flipping to your chapter in the book. Remus shook his head and tsked, continuing to work on his paper.

"It's those fucking shorts." You let out a snort.

[itostea]

the strongest (gojo x wife! reader)

gojo can't help but feel annoyed that he feels concern for the wife he swears he doesn't care for.

warnings: arranged marriage au, gojo refers to you as his wife, enemies to lovers (?), gojo tells you to lift up your top, slight angst, he's really bad at feelings okay, image from loving yamada-kun at lv999 (part of gojo’s wife series)

The lines of intrigue and fear are often blurred. It explains why we admire fire from afar, careful not to get too close in hopes of not getting burned. It explains why we find peace in parts of the ocean and tense up in deeper parts. It also explains why Gojo Satoru seeks your presence yet pushes you away the moment he finds himself feeling something other than indifference or vexation–it’s never hatred though. The strongest can’t envision himself ever hating his wife and it scares him. 

He’s not sure that can be said about you. Gojo wouldn’t be surprised if you grew to hate him after the treatment you put up with. 

Your marriage is what you call a “marriage of convenience” and Gojo made sure you remembered that. He wasn’t always so distant with you. Back then, you might’ve considered him a friend but time did its bidding and you two drifted apart, your time together merely a memory. Now fast forward a few years and you were wedded to him, taking up his surname and sleeping in the same house as him–in separate rooms of course. 

Your steps on the wooden floors were silent as you intended not to make a single noise at such a late hour. You sighed, feeling the weight of your heavy shoulders drag you down. 

Gojo might be considered cruel to you but the elders were on a different level. They knew this mission would be too much for you yet they sent you on it as punishment for speaking your mind the last time everyone gathered. 

At that time, your husband had an unfamiliar gleam in your eyes as you voiced your thoughts on the matter of Itadori. He’s a nice kid, you thought when you first saw the pink-haired boy. 

Taking away his youth wouldn’t be fair. After all, he didn’t choose to have the Ryomen Sukuna use him as a vessel. Yet, sentiment doesn’t do well with the higher ups and they made sure you knew your place with the mission they sent you on. 

You inhaled sharply, wincing as you felt the bruise on your rib with your palm. There was blood soaking your tights, little cuts littering your legs. You’re so tired you can’t find it in yourself to even eat. Then again, you needed to be in your best condition tomorrow since another mission was sent out of you and specifically you. Those in power always make sure it’s clear that they are in power. Your voice of opinion meant nothing to their beliefs in tradition or what you liked to call, “backward thinking.” That’s one thing you and your husband could agree on. 

“Ow,” you wince for the nth time as you open the fridge, scanning the items. Mochi. Ice-cream. Leftover cake. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser to go grocery shopping a day prior so you could have a proper meal. This was the kind of stuff Gojo could live on but you couldn’t. Closing the fridge, you opt for instant ramen instead. Not the best choice in regards to healthiness but cracking an egg in there meant more protein and it also minimized the spice levels. 

You’re halfway in between preparing the noodles when you feel a presence right beside you and soft breathing besides your ears. “You’re home,” your ‘husband’ mumbles, his eyes half-lidded from just having woken up. 

“God! Satoru!” You gasp, flinching away from and only realizing how close he was. For someone who claimed he wasn’t interested in you, he didn’t know what personal space was. “How did you know I was home?”

“Your cursed energy leaked in,” he shrugs his shoulders, peering down at you without the constraints of his blindfold or shades. You gulp as his eyes flit up and down your appearance, causing your insides to tense up in a sudden wave of self-consciousness. Being scrutinized by the six-eyes himself wasn’t much fun and you’re suddenly aware of the fact that your hair is disheveled and your face is sweaty from just having come home from a grueling mission. 

You don’t even notice the glint of rage that crosses his hues before he masks it. “Who did this to you?”

“Huh?” You blink, coming to your senses that your body was bloodied up and battered from having fought a curse. “Oh it was just a mission. It’s normal to be hurt on missions.” 

Gojo’s been living with you for nearly half a year now and he knows you’re more than competent when it comes to shaman duties (not that he’d ever tell you). He knows you return home by 7 p.m.., and never at hours well past midnight. He knows that you usually only get injuries on your back because you get careless at times. But now, he sees cuts everywhere and he’s not sure if you’re running on adrenaline or if you’re too tired to notice. 

His eyes glance at the way you press a palm on your rib, subconsciously squeezing the area as if hiding it from him. “Let me see.”

Your surprise is immediate and he would’ve felt a strange fluttering in his stomach if not for this concern he was experiencing for you. You smile. “See what?”

“Your injury. Let me see it,” he says again, pressing on the hand you hold close to your ribs, narrowing his eyes as you hiss in pain. “Don’t be stubborn (Name).” 

His voice is different from the cheery one he often uses and you’re left leaning further into the kitchen counter, acutely aware of the fact that his taller frame wasn’t allowing you to escape. His eyes widen the slightest once he gets a glimpse of your flustered expression as you peer up at him and he only realizes what he was asking from you. Part of him tells him to ignore this and pretend his concern for you was brief. Yet, part of him screams at him that he was your husband, so he should feel the right to be worried–even if he was months late. 

He sighs, tilting his head. “I’m just going to look. I promise I won’t do anything else,” his voice is oddly tender as he speaks to you, a contrast to the usual nonchalance you’re used to. 

You gulp and let out a shaky sigh, giving in when your fingers reach to pull your top up for him to see the bare skin that you can’t even say is spotless or void of marks. Multiple wounds litter your skin–some faded, some new. You’re scared his gaze would show some signs of judgment or disgust but you’re left bemused when you see how his eyebrows furrow and his lips purse. For a second, you allow yourself to be deluded by the fact that he might be worried but you quickly abandon that thought, averting your eyes from him.

You can see how he pieces everything together. From the way you rebelled against the elders and how they saw it as a means to punish you. He does it so quickly that you can only blink when his blank expression morphs into something different. You almost feel relieved from the fact that his expression of pure anger wasn’t directed at you and rather those who sent you on the mission.

It’s almost natural how he slides the top further up, mapping the extent of the bruise with his eyes. His hands are warm and calloused. They’re also gentle, tracing the bruise carefully to not hurt you. “I’ll kill those old bastards,” he chuckles with a sneer. “They have some nerve letting my wife take this mission without me.”

You frown as you see his anger first-hand. “Satoru–”

“Why didn’t you go to Shoko?” He interrupts, gently holding on your waist to prop you on the counter while he stands in between your legs. He watches you intently, in search of answers.

You feel somewhat embarrassed as his hand still lifts your top up to see the bare skin but don’t comment on it. “I didn’t want to bother her so late at night…”

For the first time since today, you see him flash a genuine smile, as if exasperated by your reasoning. “But you’re fine with bothering me?” 

“That’s different!” You say, a pout slowly forming on your lips and he can’t help but feel drawn to you even if he doesn’t want to. 

He laughs as you pull your top down with a huff, finding it cute that you were so bashful. “Because I’m your husband?” 

You go silent and for a second, Gojo thinks he’s messed up for mentioning that. Despite being your husband, he’s not the greatest at doing his job. He’s not callous or spiteful towards you, instead taking on more of a cold and aloof attitude towards you. Even so, he thinks that hurts just as much as a few insults. 

He’s about to pull back but your voice draws him back to you. “Yeah. It’s because you’re my husband.”

Gojo can’t stop himself from glancing at your lips at that single statement. He was today years old when he realized he was a man of simple tastes. All you had to do was tell him that he was your husband and he’d want to kiss you until your lips turned red. He considers himself lucky that you didn’t see that slip-up of his–though he wouldn’t have minded if you did.

He breathes out a sigh, propping his chin atop your head while his fingers draw circles around your hips. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

It’s a vow he swears to keep. 

“I know,” you whisper quietly enough for him to hear. “You’re the strongest after all.”

He thinks it’s funny that even as the strongest, he feels weak when he feels your fingers play with his sleeves. No words are said after that and a comfortable silence drifts between you two. It’s like the barrier between the two of you is cracking once you feel his lips press gently against your forehead and you think it's his way of sealing the promise. 

Gojo Satoru thinks–or rather he knows that he wouldn’t mind living the rest of his life with you. And he knows that he should fix his behavior around you and stop running away. That way, instead of a kiss to the forehead, he can finally give you one on your lips. 

[harrysfolklore]

yn piastri fretting over oscar’s broken rib and oscar’s like, “gee you’re worst than mum” & nicole’s just like, “yeah i don’t need to worry about oscar when yn’s around”

the rumors are true: i'm obsessed with writing this little scenarios

read little bitch here

"Are you absolutely sure you're comfortable? Maybe we should prop you up a bit more," you hover anxiously over Oscar, adjusting his pillow for the third time in as many minutes." Oh, and do you need more ice? I can run and get some. Actually, should we call the doctor again? Just to double-check everything's okay?"

"YN, I'm fine," Oscar groans, "It's just a broken rib, not the end of the world. I'll be racing in Hungary next weekend anyway."

"What? No, absolutely not!" your eyes widen in alarm. "You can't race with a broken rib, Oscar. That's insane!"

Oscar rolls his eyes dramatically. "It's cracked, not broken. And I've been cleared by the medical team," he stresses, "You're worse that mum sometimes."

From her seat in the corner, Nicole chuckles. "Oh yeah, I don't even have to worry about you when your sister is around. She's got the overprotective mother role covered."

"Thanks, Mum," you say, turning to her. "My therapist has great opinions about it. She says my anxiety comes from a place of love."

"Yeah, well, your love is suffocating me right now," Oscar snorts.

"Osc, I'm just worried about you," you stressed again, "It's too dangerous. What if you crash? What if your rib punctures a lung? What if-"

"What if aliens invade during the race?" Oscar interrupts, mimicking your concerned tone. "What if a meteor hits the track? What if I suddenly forget how to drive?"

"This isn't funny, Oscar! I'm serious!"

"So am I! Carlos nearly drove with a burst appendix, and he was fine!"

Carlos, who's been quietly watching the siblings' back-and-forth like a tennis match, pipes up. "Well, 'fine' might be stretching it. I was in quite a bit of pain, actually."

You whirled on Carlos, who suddenly looked very interested in the ceiling. "Oh, don't even get me started on that piece of stupidity!"

"In my defense," Carlos cleared his throat awkwardly. "I didn't actually race…"

"Only because the team had more sense than you did!" you exclaimed.

"Back when you pretended to hate Carlos but you were at the edge of your seat worrying the entire time he was at the hospital," Oscar teased, making you roll your eyes.

"That's not the point right now," you crosses your arms over your chest, glaring at Oscar. "We're talking about your safety, not my past… concerns."

"Oh, but I think it is relevant," Oscar grins mischievously, sensing an opportunity. "Remember how you kept texting the group chat every five minutes when Carlos was in the hospital? 'Just being a decent human being,' you said. As if we couldn't see right through you."

You feel your cheeks heat up, aware of Carlos' gaze on you. "That's... that's completely irrelevant," you stammer.

"Is that so, hermosa?" Carlos chuckles softly, moving to stand beside you. "I didn't know you cared so much back then."

You shoot Carlos a look that's half embarrassment, half exasperation. "Don't you start. And you," you turn back to Oscar, pointing an accusing finger, "stop trying to change the subject. We're talking about your cracked rib and your ridiculous idea to race with it."

Nicole, who's been watching the exchange with poorly concealed amusement, decides to intervene. "Alright, kids, let's all take a breath. YN, honey, I understand you're worried. But Oscar's right - he's been cleared by the medical team. They wouldn't let him race if it wasn't safe."

"But-" you start to protest, only to be cut off by Oscar.

"No buts," he says firmly. "I appreciate the concern, sis, I really do. But this is my job, and sometimes it comes with risks. I promise I'll be careful, okay?"

You sigh, feeling your resolve weaken. "Fine. But I swear, Oscar, if you so much as wince during that race, I'm storming the track myself."

"Now that I'd pay to see. YN vs. Formula 1 security," Carlos jokes, "My money's on you, mi amor."

As you and Oscar continue to bicker, your mom and Carlos exchange amused glances. Carlos leans towards her, speaking in a low voice.

"Has YN always been like this?" he asks, a fond smile playing on his lips as he watches you fuss over Oscar.

"Oh, you have no idea," Nicole chuckles softly. "This is actually quite mild compared to when they were kids. There was this one time when Oscar was about seven, and he fell off his bike. Scraped his knee pretty badly. YN, who was ten at the time, went into full nurse mode."

"What did she do?" Carlos raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Well," she continues, "She insisted on 'quarantining' Oscar in his room for a week, claiming he needed complete bed rest. She even made a 'Do Not Disturb: Patient Recovering' sign for his door. Poor Oscar was going stir-crazy by day two, but YN wouldn't let him leave. She brought him all his meals, read him stories, everything."

Carlos can't help but laugh at the image. "That sounds exactly like something she would do."

"Oh, it gets better," Nicole grins. "When I finally convinced her that Oscar was fine to go outside, she insisted on wrapping him in bubble wrap before he could ride his bike again. Said it was 'necessary protective gear'. Oscar looked like a little astronaut waddling down the street."

Their laughter catches your attention, and you pause in your debate with Oscar about the dangers of racing with a cracked rib. "What's so funny?" you ask suspiciously.

Before Nicole can respond, Oscar, catching on to the conversation, groans dramatically. "Oh god, Mum, please tell me you're not telling the bubble wrap story."

Your eyes widen in realization, and you feel a blush creeping up your neck. "Mum! You promised never to mention that again!"

Carlos, still chuckling, wraps an arm around your waist. "I think it's adorable, hermosa. You've always been a protector."

"Well control your girlfriend! She's trying to bubble wrap me again, I swear!"

"I am not! Although..." you trail off, a mischievous glint in your eye, "it's not a bad idea for the race. Extra padding couldn't hurt, right?"

"YN, no!"

[aphrogeneias]

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 — squirting

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: shy!reader (not "innocent" or inexperienced, just a little more reserved). penetrative sex.

Chrissy didn't know what she was doing.

It was an innocent question — as innocent as the questions being raised could be, that night. The conversation had quickly descended into more risqué subjects after Steve had gotten a little too tipsy and started complaining about his lack of luck on his latest escapades.

Nothing out of the ordinary, really. You were all used to talking about sex in one way or another. Eddie was famously loud about it, always having a story to tell, his or otherwise. Stories that made you imagine yourself on the receiving end of, guiltily wanting your friend to do those same things he was describing to you.

You kept those fantasies to yourself, though. Not wanting to be teased by the girls, maybe even worse, have them try to set you up with him. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if Eddie ever rejected you, or dated you out of pity. There was no scenario where this would work in your mind, no "you and Eddie", just you and your thoughts of him, where he would never hurt you, where all he did was make you feel good, imagining it his hands on your body, roaming until they found that place between your legs, instead of your own.

That night, it was no different. After Steve started the conversation, there was no stopping it. You often listened more than talked — not due to lack of experience, you were just a little too shy to share too much, even among close friends — but when the talk switched to Robin commenting about making her girlfriend squirt, you slipped.

"Good for her."

Your reply may have sounded a little more bitter than you'd anticipated, because, one by one, all of your friends looked at you. Maybe it was the scoff that has left your mouth, maybe it was the alcohol that had loosened your tongue. 

"What was that?" Nancy asked, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow at you.

"Yeah. What was that?" This time, it was Eddie who repeated her question. He sat on the opposite couch with his legs spread, tight black jeans stretching on his lean legs, making you wish you sat between them. You avoided his eyes.

"Nothing. I mean…", you signed, already regretting having said anything, "it's good! Good for her. Robin is good to her, that's a good thing."

You cringed even before you could finish all those convoluted sentences.

"Honey, have you ever… you know," Chrissy asked from her place on the floor, sitting as delicate as a fairy. "squirted?"

"No." You said, simply. Scared to run your mouth even more. "It's not a big deal. Doesn't happen to everybody."

"Have you tried?" Steve asked from behind his beer. He got a myriad of answers ranging from "that's not how It works, dingus!" from Robin, "it's not a matter of trying" from Nancy and "don't ask that, dude" from Eddie.

"I don't even know where to start, Steve. And before anyone asks, yes, I have cum from sex. Just not… like that."

You wanted to crawl into the nearest hole. It was even worse when you could feel Eddie's eyes on you, like he could see right through you. He tilted his head, and you weren't able to handle the kindness in his brown eyes. You looked away.

Your friends' opinions diverged again, making questions and trying to get you to speak, but you couldn't deal with their scrutiny anymore.

"C'mon, guys. It's fine! Can we change the subject, please?" You tried to swerve them. "Like I said, it's not a big deal. Maybe I'm just broken like that."

They shrugged. You shrugged. They moved on — but Eddie's eyes stayed on you for the rest of the night.

You're on Eddie's passenger seat, right in front of your apartment building, later that night when he brings the subject up again.

"I don't think you're broken."

The two of you had spent the entire ride silent, which was odd since Eddie was the chatterbox between the two of you, always filling the gaps with anything that would cross his mind. Neither that, nor his music filled the silence between you.

"What?" You looked at him, still not believing what you'd heard.

"You said that maybe you were broken like that. That's not true, you're… you're perfect."

That feeling of wanting to hide came back tenfold, making your eyes fill with tears. "Eddie, forget about it, please."

"Hey," he brought your gaze back to him with a finger to your chin, delicately turning your head. "I meant what I said. You're perfect, it's just that no one's taken the time to treat you right. It takes patience, from both sides."

"Yeah, and?"

"I was thinking that maybe I could change that. If you'd let me."

One thing you'd always admired about Eddie was his strength of conviction. He never said anything he didn't believe in, and backed it all up. His voice never faltered, he doesn't shy away from speaking his mind — and you hated that you were forcing yourself to disbelieve him.

"Eddie…"

"Look at me." He pleaded, and in spite of your concerns, you did as he told. His eyes bore into your with a sincerity that was so painfully him. "You can say no. I'll go home and we'll forget about everything I just said. But, sweetheart… I'm dying to prove you wrong."

Eventually, he did.

After you'd gotten up the stairs to your floor kissing and tugging at each other's clothes, letting Eddie's tongue taste yours over and over, stopping to let yourself be cornered against the wall by him. Getting lost in the feeling of his solid body against yours, the smell of him — a strong, masculine perfume, cigarettes and beer — making you dizzy, his lips on your neck making you even dizzier.

After he took your clothes off halfway down your living room, reverencing your body with his rough hands, kneeling between your feet in the middle of your halfway. He made you cum for the first time that night with his mouth, kissing your pussy the way he kissed your mouth, sucking on your clit the same way he sucked on your tongue. You came as you pulled his hair, his strong arms around your hips preventing you from falling.

After he guided you to your bed, still craving a taste of you. Hands not knowing where to sit still while he pulled another orgasm from you, his fingers deep within you, curling and stroking your walls, his mouth still not leaving your clit. Your ears buzzed with the force of your climax, not being able to hear Eddie's praise. "That's my girl," he said, head resting on the plush of your thigh, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, "doing such a good job, but I'm not done with you yet."

After he made your eyes blur with pleasure when you finally entered you, rubbing the head of his cock on your sensitive bundle of nerves, once, twice, three times before putting it in, slowly bottoming out. Leaving kisses all over your face, shining with sweat. You didn't think you could take it, curling your toes and hugging his narrow hips with your spread legs, feeling each thrust with a tenderness you never did before.

After he filled and stretched you to the brim, pulling out only to push it all in again. Uttering against your skin, broken whimpers, your name on his lips like a prayer. You were beyond the point of forming words, kissing him to stop yourself from screaming. You could feel yourself dripping down your pussy, and into the sheets, soaking Eddie's cock.

After he pulled your thigh higher up his waist, and stood on his knees, pounding into you with measured speed. He hit your spot over, and over, and over — you grabbed the sheets with both hands, repeating his name like a broken record, music to his ears.

"Yeah? That feels good, baby? Am I making you feel good?" Eddie looked like a god above you. Wild hair down to his shoulders, pale skin slick with sweat, eyes drilled on you. You made the mistake of looking down to where your bodies met, watching his thick cock drenched with your juices, going in and out of you. His pubic hair, also matted with your wetness, creating a delicious friction against your clit. "Tell me. Who's making you feel this good?"

"You, Eddie." You whimpered. "You, you, you. Always you."

"That's right, baby. That's" a hard thrust, "fucking," a a squeeze of your thigh, "right."

You felt your orgasm approach with a  deep pressure on your navel, building and building until you couldn't keep It down anymore. You let yourself go, the ringing in your ears louder and cleared, cumming with Eddie's name on your lips.

That's when you felt it. You were limp in your bed, with Eddie above you. You'd felt him cum too, dropping his weight above you, but still keeping himself steady by his elbows. but everything was distant, like it was happening in a dream. Slowly, you came back to yourself — to Eddie, gently coaxing you with sweet words, and to the warm wetness coating your thighs, your ass, and Eddie's lower half.

"Did I…?"

"Fuck yeah, you did." His boyish smile, so different from the confident smirk you saw not moments ago, made you smile too, weakly and still a little embarrassed, but too satisfied to care.

"Happy now?"

"Only when you do it again."