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princessb4mbi · 1 year

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╰─▸ ❝ MY WAY OF SAYING "THANKS"

𖦹 tags black!femreader, dilf!jotaro, age gap (reader is in 20s, jotaro being in his 40s), reader is in college. oral sex (fem reciving), meandom!jotaro, teasing, cursing and squirting?... there’s also an imbalance of power. extremely ooc jotaro & jolyne. dead dove do not eat

𖦹 synopsis You’ve been Jolyne’s close friend for years, but never paid attention to her family. Who would’ve thought that she had a banging hot father?

𖦹 word count 3.5k [about 13 mins]

𖦹 a/n hello! If this blows up, no spoilers about jjba.. i have not watched past part 4 as this is being made, so i am not 100% of how part 5 or 6 has gone on. THANKS!! (also jotaro is in his part 4 outfit. thxx) [story below the cut]

—

“So, y/n, are ya comin’ to my apartment later today?” Jolyne asks she puts her stuff in her car. “Maybe... I have to study for my chem final so I don’t know if I can stay for long,” you respond gripping the strap of your bookbag. She gives you are sarcastic frown, whining in response. She puts a hand on your arms, rubbing it up and down gently. “C’monnn… you know.. my dad will be in town for this week.” You furrow your eyebrows. Obviously, you knew about Jolyne’s family, and even been to her house many times, but her father has never been at home. You can’t even recall if you caught a glimpse of her father. You don’t even know his name. You only know her father by ‘Mr. Kujo’.

“I’m shocked, since when did you care about your dad being in town?” You question the bright green-haired girl. Jolyne leans back on her car, making her a bit shorter. “Look, I know I don’t talk about him a lot, but this is the first time that my dad has actually made an interest in seeing me,” She said sternly. “If you don’t want to come that’s fine, but for some reason, I don’t want to be alone with him. As weird as that is..” She continues on.

You close your eyes and think. It’s one thing to meet Jolyne’s dad because it happens, but it’s another thing to meet Jolyne’s dad because you’re meant to clear the air. However, it’s Jolyne. You’d do anything for her. “Ok.. but if I go to your apartment, I have to sleep over, ok?” Jolyne squeals in excitement. “Like I’d say no to that?” She gives you a warm hug and then opens her car door to get inside. She turns on her car and then rolls down the windows.

“I love ya so much! I’d passionately make out with you if I didn’t have an errand to run.. see ya!” She winks at you then rolls her car window back up. She pulls out of the parking lot, leaving you alone. You sigh. This better be worth it.

—

You walk up to the front of Jolyne’s apartment door, smiling to yourself at the cute decor she’s put on the door. You ring the doorbell, with the door opening a near second later. Jolyne, wearing an oversized graphic tee with long pajama pants, lounges at you. “I’m so grateful you came! I’m not gonna’ lie to you, but I was tracking down your location as well..”

“What?” You say in confusion. “It’s that serious?”

“Well.. no. But, ya’know!” She says lifting her eyebrows up as if she’s indicting something you can’t grasp.

“Since when did you have my loca-” You’re cut off by Jolyne dragging you inside by your arm, and closing the door soon after. You take off your jacket, revealing your tight-fitting shirt. Jolyne turns around to face you a small smirk creeps up her face. “Free the nipples huh?” She says puzzlingly. You shake your head no. “Ah. So you just have no bra on. Well, not like I have a dress code here anyways.” She walks to her kitchen, picking up something from her microwave. You set your bag aside and plop down on her soft velvet couch.

“Want sum’ pizza rolls? It’s homemade..” Jolyne says blowing on one.

“Nah, I already ate the bookstore.” Jolyne shrugs and sets her plate down on the coffee table. You sit back up and open your bag, pulling out your laptop and your iPad. “You mind if I watch some TV?” You nod no as you go back to your screen, memorizing and writing as much material as you can.

The two of you continue to be in your own worlds until you are interrupted by the ring of Jolyne’’s doorbell. “That’s him. I’ll get it.” Jolyne says nervously as she rubs her hands together walking up to the door. You hear a faint exchange of ‘hellos’ from the door, but it’s nothing crazy to take you out of your work. You hear the door close and then the shuffle of footsteps. “Not too bad,” You hear a deep, raspy voice say.

“I didn’t know you had someone over, Jolyne.”

You look over to see Jolyne’s dad and meet eyes with possibly the most handsome man you’ve seen. He is tall, really tall. With a very defined jawline, and dark eyebrows. Not to mention, his eyes. His gorgeous green eyes. You swear you can stare into them for hours. You were too busy just admiring his looks and didn’t notice a small smile creeping up his face. “I would assume you greet people by just staring?”

You close your laptop right away then get up and pat yourself of dust that was never there to begin with. “I-I’m sorry... Mr. Kujo,” You manage. He extends his hand towards you, seemingly expecting a handshake from you. “Oh... It’s y/n.., sorry.” You stutter.

“It’s ok.” He says sternly.

“Well then.. uhm... Dad,” Jolyne speaks up. She gestures for him to sit on the couch, in an attempt to make him comfortable. You start to pack up stuff, feeling too awkward and too embarrassed to stay for another minute. The silence was also terrible, so that was another sign for you to move somewhere else.

“You don’t have to leave.” He says abruptly. His voice was just so… demanding yet calm? You couldn’t explain it, but everything about him was just you obey what he says or face punishment. Honestly, he made you nervous. Extremely nervous. And he noticed that.

“Yeah y/n… you don’t have to leave at all,” Jolyne says, making a “stay right fucking here” face that only you can see. You place your stuff back down on the table. Since there was really nowhere else to sit and you didn’t want to sit on Jolyne’s cold ass floors, you were forced to sit next to Mr. Kujo. But you left a great amount of space between you two. Jolyne’s eyes brightened. She had an idea. It probably isn’t a good one too. It’s an idea she does a lot, that annoys you to your core.

“I actually made you some food for you, but I placed it in the fridge since I didn’t want to leave it out for long so…” Oh my god. No way she was bailing on you. With her dad of all people. Jolyne starts to back up away from you and her dad, inching closer to the kitchen. “I will heat that up, so just… converse with y/n! She’s a fun girl if you get to know her well.” And with that, Jolyne is fully in the kitchen, successfully avoiding a situation by making you her bait.

There are about two moments of silence before Mr. Kujo takes the remote to turn on the TV and play something random. I guess that's his own way of killing the silence huh? “What do you study?” He speaks suddenly again.

“Huh?”

“Yare Yare Daze..”

You have no idea what he just said, but with the way he said it, you can tell it wasn’t a good thing. He leans back on the couch a little more, but his sitting stance is still proper. You don’t know why you blank out in moments like these, because now you look like an idiot to Jolyne’s dad. A man you’ve just met.

More moments of silence continue, as the television show adds background noise. “Biology. I plan to be a vet after graduate school,” Mr. Kujo turns his head at you, giving you his full attention. He lifts an eyebrow in amusement. “Say, I actually majored in Biology myself,” You chuckle, shocked at the fact that someone like him would actually go into a major like that.

“If you ever need help with anything, you can call me.”

What? Call him? Mr. Kujo clears his throat. “I mean… it’s a hard subject. You’re better off getting help for free rather than paying for a tutor.” You nod your head in agreement. “Thank you… do you want me to give you my number or?...” You ask, hoping he gives you his number instead for some strange reason. “Give me your phone, I’ll put my digits in there.” You comply, handing him your phone. You scoot closer to him to make sure nothing pops up on your phone, like when you are showing something to your parent on your phone. You look at him putting in his number, then look at his face. God, he is so handsome. It might be wrong to think this, but when you see someone attractive, you see someone attractive. That’s just natural.

“Here, I put my number in there.” Mr. Kujo hands you back your phone. You look at it and see a new contact card. “Jotaro?”

“Yes, that is my first name.” He says blankly. “You don’t have to call me ‘Mr. Kujo’... no one close to me does.”

You feel your face heat up in embarrassment. “Sorry…”

“Sorry, what?”

Your eyebrows twitch in confusion. Sorry what? What do I say? You and Mr. Kujo look each other in the face. With Mr. Kujo looking like he wants you to do something for him.

“Oh. Sorry, Jotaro.” He looks away, seemingly satisfied with you calling him Jotaro. Maybe calling him ‘Mr. Kujo’ made him uncomfortable, considering how no one else does, and it’s probably too formal in general. But wait a minute. What could he have meant by nobody close to him calling him that? Are you two suddenly friends even though there was an awkward exchange between you two?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the smell of lasagna, specifically Jolyne bringing it out onto his diner table. “I know it may be a little late to eat this, but it won’t kill us to be like Garfield for a day.” She takes out three plates, presumably for us to eat. “It’s okay. I already ate myself Jolyne.” Jotaro says bluntly.

Jolyne looks at Jotaro, undoubtedly upset by her father’s sentence. She looks down at the food, then looks back at you. “Oh. Well, y/n, do you want some?” Knowing you can’t leave her in the dark like this, you nod your head yes in an attempt to lift Jolyne’s spirits. It seemed to work because she poured herself a plate as well. Jolyne places you and her plates of food on the coffee table, then sit on the floor. You can’t see Jotaro’s face anymore, but you can’t help but feel like he is burning a hole through your shirt. Your phone buzzes and you flip it over to see the notification. It was a text message from Jotaro.

Thank you.

—

Jolyne sleeps soundly as you sit at her desk, finishing up your studying. You check the time, 11:45 pm. It was late. You wondered if Jotaro had left already, considering how the both of you went to Jolyne’s room around 10 pm. But you didn’t hear the door open or close. Deciding to answer your curiosity, you walk out of her room, looming down her dark hallway. There you see Jotaro, still awake, with his focus on the TV. His posture is a lot more lax than before, his legs spread and he even has his hat off. He turns over to you. “I didn’t know you were still awake.” He pats the couch, signaling for you to go sit next to him. You obey, sitting down next to him without a word.

Once again, silence ensues. It’s not like you’re bad at starting conversations, you’re just bad at starting conversations with him. “Look, I just want to say thank you,” Jotaro bursts out. You look at him, seeing him already looking at you. “For what? I-I didn’t do much other than make things awkward.” You say nervously. This was weird. You were appreciative of the fact that Jotaro is thanking you, but it was weird because you have no idea what he was thanking you for.

“I’m not thanking you because of today, I’m thanking you for the years you stuck by Jolyne,” He says warmly. “I wasn’t around much in her life, and I’ve missed important moments for her, but even then, she wasn’t alone. She had you.”

You stare down at your thighs, unable to think of what to say. You didn’t know what to think, he just admitted to being an absent father and is thanking a mere 22-year-old for being around his daughter for over a decade. You want to pity him, considering how Jolyne excused his actions by saying that it was for the benefit of her and her mom, but Jolyne really needed him at times. “You may not have the greatest thoughts of me but, I still want you to know that I am indebted to you, y/n.”

“It’s nothing, but you’re here now. Stay. For Jolyne’s sake.” Jotaro nods his head and then turns his attention back to the TV. 30 minutes of pure silence and the show that Jotaro was watching occurs. Making yet another awkward moment between you two. You look at the clock on the wall. 12:15 am. “Well… it’s getting late so, maybe I should hit the hay?” You say to break the silence. You stand up from the couch until you feel a large, warm hand grab your wrist. “Wait,” Jotaro says. His voice just went an octave lower than it is, and you swear you went weak from that. He stands up from the couch, making you realize just how tall he is. (a/n - my 6’5 daddy ahhhh 🤪😝) He removes his grip from your wrist, but stands in front of you, blocking any way of you walking away from him. His body is no more than 4 inches away from yours, and the smell of his rather earthy cologne fills your nose.

“I didn’t explain my appreciativeness properly earlier…” He says, leaning his face about 2 inches from yours. Your brain wasn’t comprehending what was going on, but you know that you want whatever will happen in the next 10 seconds. “Let me thank you properly.”

Jotaro places his hands over your face and passionately kisses you. As if by instinct, you kiss him back, leaving your mouth agape so that his tongue can explore your mouth better. You slowly droop down onto the couch, with Jotaro not breaking the kiss between you two. You both sit on the couch, Jotaro is hunched over you, letting the once-passionate kiss become rough. He then backs away leaving a string of saliva between the two of you. He places his big hands over your top, slipping it off. Since you weren’t wearing a bra, your breasts were already in view for him. He gets close and sucks on them, circling and nibbling at your nipple. “So fucking perfect…” He mumbles. He backs away from your breasts, then scoots farther down the chair.

“This may be sudden, but would you let me eat your pussy?” He asks sternly.

You were quick to comply, fixing your body flat, with your crotch facing Jotaro. Jotaro removes your pants, revealing your bright pink panties. He rubs your clothed clit with his thick thumb, you slightly arching your back to the feeling. You bite your bottom lip to contain your moans, but you can’t help a couple of whimpers come out. Jotaro then takes off your panties, leaving you completely naked for him. He stares at your naked body and smiles. “You’re so beautiful, you know that? You practically gave me a boner when you saw me enter.” He goes up to kiss your neck and leaves a few hickeys, making his way down your body. “Those pretty eyes of yours, I want to ruin that look so bad…”

Jotaro is now face-to-face with your pussy, leaving his mouth slightly agape making you feel hot air on your sensitive clit. The feeling of the air on your nub makes your body tingle, with you shifting your legs around. Jotaro places a firm grip on your thighs, keeping the lower portion of your body in place. “Please… Jotaro..” You whine, desperately wanting him to eat you out. “Patience baby, you’re just not wet enough for me…” He responds.

Are you serious? You are about ten seconds away from pushing Jotaro’s head into your pussy and clamping your thighs shut, but if he wasn’t as scary as he was then you seriously would’ve done it. “Please... Jotaro,” At this point, you’re a crying, whimpering mess. As bad as it is, you didn’t even care if Jolyne heard either. All you wanted right now, was for Jotaro to devour you like you’re his last meal on Earth. Jotaro chuckles mischievously.

He licks a long stride down your pussy. A sinful moan comes out from your mouth. Jotaro tightens his grip, “Shut up… you don’t want to wake Jolyne up, do you?” He brings your thighs closer to his face, sensing the prickly feeling of his stubble on your soft thighs. Jotaro slowly licks circles around your clit, torturing you with the pace he’s going at. You engulf your hands in his dark curly locks and slowly grind yourself on his tongue. “So fucking impatient.” He mumbles, deciding to pick up his pace and send his tongue up and down your pussy.

You bite down on a pillow to contain your moans, because at this point your lips hurt too much from attempting to keep your moans. Jotaro is swirling his tongue around every crevice of your pussy as he can, even sticking it into your wet hole. Although it can’t go far, his nose is so close to your clit that you can feel him breathing on it ONTOP of him putting his tongue inside your hole. The sound is ungodly, the noise from the TV being replaced by the sound of slushing and Jotaro’s low but audible growls.

“Fuck you taste so good…need you to cum on my tongue. Now,” He grunts, fucking his tongue against your throbbing numb clit. You had planned to hold your climax just a little bit for how he teased you earlier, but the tone of his voice implied that he was serious, and he was going to make you cum on his command. Whether you want to or not.

“Don’t get any smart ideas, I’ll use my fingers if I have to,” He says moving one of his hands closer to your crotch. You weren’t going to disobey, seeing how you aren’t in the position to decline, and he was making you feel insanely good. At this point, you’re gripping onto Jotaro’s hair, and shoving his face into your cunt, as if he’s your vibrator. He’s not complaining either, hearing how there are feral moans coming out from him too. “You like this? You like how I’m devouring your wet little pussy hm?” He muffles, sending you over the edge. Your clit begins to jitter, signaling that you are close to climaxing.

“Mmm.. m’ so close, Taro..” you whine, begging him to slow down his pace. Jotaro isn’t budging, however. You were feeling so many mixed emotions at this point, letting go of the pillow and moaning freely. How would Jolyne respond if she saw her dad's face deep into her best friend’s pussy? Was a thought that swelled in your head, but… it turned you on. “I’m gonna..cum Taro p-please..” You whimper. You relax your head back as you reach your climax, clamping Jotaro’s head with your thighs and your feet shaking in response. Fuck. Not only did Jolyne’s dad just give you head, but it was a leg-shaking one at that.

Jotaro releases his grip and begins to sit up straight. As you sit up straight, you notice what appears to be a droplet of liquid on his chin. “I didn’t know you were like that, but I’m not bothered by it..” He says as he wipes his chin with his hand. You look down to see an obvious boner in his pants. You slide your hand across his thigh but he stops you with his hand. You look up at him to see his face. “It’s quite obvious that I don’t have sexual… tendencies… with the friends of my daughter but, you’re a different case. Jolyne has talked about you a lot, and in all honestly, I’ve been waiting to meet you.” He says with a visibly frustrated face.

“As much as I’d desire to take things further, I know once I start, I won’t stop. Regardless if someone sees… you get my gist?” You nod your head in agreement. “Great. So can you put on your clothes and go to sleep with Jolyne as if I wasn’t eating you out about 2 minutes ago? I’m sure you can handle that for me, baby.”

You pick up your clothes and put them on, fixing yourself to normal. You give Jotaro one final look then you start to walk back into Jolyne’s room. You breathe a sigh of relief seeing as Jolyne is still sound asleep. You crawl into her bed and cuddle her. In the end, you felt wrong but not at the same time. Jotaro didn’t only make you orgasm, but squirt as well? Not even a regular hookup you had with a frat boy could make that possible for you.

I guess Jolyne was right in a sense when she said older men do it best.

#anime smut #jjba smut #jjba fanfic #jotaro x reader #jotaro smut #jotaro x reader smut #jotaro kujo

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aprillikesthings · 3 months

Text

I bitched and moaned about how hard it is to write, and then nearly 900 words fell out into the google doc.

Ffs. Why am I like this.

ANYWAY this is like, multiple chapters ahead of the chapter I should be working on, and it's from my late 1960's au, and it's Catra hitchhiking from somewhere vaguely midwestern-ish to San Francisco

And yes, I had to google "when did 'family' become slang for gay people" for this bit lol

(Nothing bad happens to her other than uhhhh a bit of nasty name-calling from a trucker when she turns him down for a ride)

(usual disclaimers: this is first draft and could end up heavily edited by the time it's on ao3)

Catra packs her bag as quickly as she can. A wool blanket. A couple pairs of underwear. A couple of tee shirts. The paisley scarf she’s been wearing in her hair. She only has the one pair of jeans, it’ll have to do. The tiny amount of weed under her mattress and the few rolling papers she has left, plus her cigarettes and matches. After a bit of internal debate she puts on a bra–and tucks her wallet into it. Not that there's much money in it.

She doesn’t leave a note. How long will it even take for them to notice she’s gone?

It takes two buses to get to the highway out of town, and she sticks her thumb out.

Her first ride was some younger teenagers, who got her to the edge of the suburbs. She used the bathroom at the gas station and stood at the onramp to put her thumb out again. Her next ride was a trucker, and she hesitated at first but he had kind eyes and said, “Miss, I promise I’m not gonna to do any harm to your person, I just like havin’ some company.” He was true to his word, and didn’t even ask her name. He listened to country music and he tried to ask her where she was going and why, but she deflected and asked him questions about himself. Turns out he had a wife and kids at home. (I should write out the conversation)

The way he talked about them made something in Catra’s chest hurt, at the same time she could’ve listened to the love in his voice all day.

Nobody ever talked about her that way.

He drove her for two whole states and didn’t mind when she passed out asleep, and even insisted on paying for her breakfast the next day. “If you were my daughter, I’d hope someone would take care of you. I can tell you have a kind heart, you know. I’m sure you’ll help someone else, when you can.” Catra wasn’t able to stop the tears fast enough over her diner coffee and pancakes, and he was nice enough to pretend not to notice them as he smoked a cigarette.

But he had to sleep himself and then he was going north, and so he left her behind at a gas station just before the California border.

It took longer to get a ride this time, and it was hot enough that the horizon shimmered in the sun.

The first person to offer her a ride was another trucker, but the way he leered at her made her stomach turn, and she shook her head and walked away from his truck.

“Hippie bitch! So much for free love, huh?” A few people stared and her face burned. She tried to go back into the gas station just for the little bit of air conditioning, but the woman behind the counter looked up from her magazine and said, “If you’re not going to buy anything, you can’t be in here.”

And so Catra stood on the onramp again, thumb out, hoping to get a ride before she died of heat stroke.

A half an hour later a little pale blue sedan pulled over. Another older man. But he smiled at her.

“San Francisco, huh? Going to the summer of love are we, honey?” But he said “honey” the way the diner waitress said it, so with a quick silent prayer she got in.

“You poor thing, it’s so hot outside. I bought a couple of Cokes, and one of them should still be cold, if you want it.”

“Yeah, if that’s okay with you?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it!”

It was the best-tasting thing she’d had since that diner breakfast. Finally refreshed a little, she looked over at him. He had a silk scarf around his neck as a tie of sorts, and his clothes were as immaculately neat as his car, even in the heat.

“So, uh, are you going to the summer of love, too?”

“Oh, no!” He laughed, but not in a mean way. “No, I live there. I’ve just been visiting some…family.” He said that last word oddly.

He looked at her in sideways glances. “Hm. Speaking of which. Are you…Oh gosh. I don’t know the way young people say this anymore. But are you family, yourself?”

Catra looked at him with confusion. “What?”

He cleared his throat and his face turned pink. “Now, I don’t know whether this will reassure you or not, in regards to your safety. But while you’re a lovely young lady; I, shall we say, have no interest in women. If that bothers you, I can let you off at the next gas station.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine.” Then his words sunk in. “You’re gay?”

He glanced at her again, then took a deep breath. “To my mother’s chagrin, yes; I’m a homophile.” He was smiling again, but it was strained. “Is that a problem for you?”

“No.” She bit her lip. “I am, too.”

His smile became wider and far more genuine. “I knew it! I knew you were family.”

“What!! How?”

“Just a vibe, honey. We often know our own.”

Catra relaxed into the bench seat and laughed. “You’re only, like, the third person I’ve ever told.”

“Really? Well, I feel honored!”

[Author's note: As far as I can understand from what I read, "homophile" was the preferred term by a lot of people for several decades. "Homosexual" was sometimes disliked because it was used as a diagnosis of mental illness, back when it was thought you could cure it--it also reduced our orientations to just sex as opposed to romantic love that included sex. By the late 1960's it wasn't quite as popular, "gay" becoming the preferred term, but some older people and organizations still used it.

Also as of right now, at this point in the story, the other people who Catra's told are Scorpia (because she came out to Catra first) and Entrapta.]

#april writes

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exhuastedpigeon · 9 months

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BUDDIE 3SOME HELLO??????

(also steddie tattoo fic? 👀)

Sorcha you picked two fics that I love so much and am determined to one day finish even if I haven't had any beans for them lately. Here's a snippet from both.

Buddie threesome:

It had been a hell of a week. If Buck was being honest it had been a hell of a year, but he tries not to think about that if he can avoid it. He’s moved on, he’s been to therapy, he’s talked to friends and family, he’s got a great girlfriend who he can talk to about his death without her looking at him like she’s lost something. He’s doing great. It’s just, it’s been a hell of a week. Which is probably why Buck doesn’t think there’s anything weird going on when Nat says they should get dinner with Eddie. A part of the hell of a week was Eddie and Marisol breaking up and Eddie being weirdly okay with it. Buck knows his best friend, he knows that Eddie’s being weird and he’s determined to get to the bottom of it. “Eddie’s really hot,” Natalia says as she follows Buck into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine. He wonders vaguely about why she felt the need to come into the kitchen to tell him that, but he doesn’t bother looking at it too deeply, not when Eddie’s in the living room. “I know,” Buck hands her the wine and a glass, grabbing two more from the shelf and a beer just in case Eddie doesn’t want the wine. Nat nods and walks into the living room without another word. Buck just chalks it up to Eddie being insanely hot and follows behind her. In retrospect, he shouldn’t have been so surprised when Natalia suggested they have a threesome. Honestly, he’s kind of surprised it hasn’t been brought up sooner based on how casually Natalia says it. He kind of thought Taylor might be into it with Eddie mostly for the hate sex. Hell even Lucy had kind of hinted around it at her going away party last year. But no one has ever just said it before. “We should have a three-some,” Natalia says and then takes a sip of her wine looking between Eddie and Buck. Buck can tell his face is bright red and he doesn’t need to be sitting next to Eddie to know that he’s tensed up at the suggestion, but because he is he can feel it as well as sense it. “You’re hot, Buck’s hot, I’m hot. It would be hot.”

Tattoo: This is a modern no Upside Down AU featuring tattoo artist Robin and Jonathan, struggling musician Eddie, and masters student Steve. This is a bit from the first section where Eddie and Steve see each other again for the first time since high school and Eddie's brain breaks a little bit because Steve has tattoos and works at a gay bar.

Second time was the charm and a few minutes later Robin had Eddie on his stomach, arm on an arm rest as she got her ink set up. The bell above the door dinged and Eddie looked over out of instinct. “Steve!” Jonathan’s voice rang across the mostly empty shop. It was noon on a Tuesday, not a ton of people were coming in for tattoos today, especially since Hellfire didn’t often take walk-ins. “Johnny, my man.” Steve. Steve Harrington. Eddie was extremely glad he was laying down or else he may have fallen over. Steve Harrington somehow looked even better than he had in high school, his hair was still insanely perfect, but it was longer now. He was wearing little wire frame glasses. He had on a fucking Wilco tee shirt. “You’ll never guess who else is here.” “Nancy here today?” Steve asked. Eddie assumed he was looking around the shop. “Buckley’s always here, so that’s not special.” “Take that back, I’m fucking special,” Robin yelled across the empty shop. “Nah man, Eddie Munson is here though.” “Munson?” Steve didn’t sound too surprised, so Eddie assumed he knew Eddie was in Chicago and maybe even knew Eddie was a regular Hellfire. “Hey Harrington,” Eddie lifted himself up enough to offer a little wave, “Long time no see.” “It’s like we moved Hawkins to Wicker Park,” Steve laughed, walking around to sit on Jonathan’s station. “How you been, man?” “Not too bad,” Eddie laid back down at Robin’s instruction. “Moved out of Hawkins a couple years ago and I’ve been here ever since.” “Nice,” Steve took his shirt off and tossed it onto the table, probably to use as a pillow. “I met Buckley here at UIC.” “I’m so sorry Robin,” Eddie said dramatically. “Did you know Stevie here was known as King Steve in high school?” “I did,” Robin laughed. “I gave him his first tattoo as a reminder.” Steve lifted his leg, pulling up the soft looking black joggers to show Eddie a little crown on his calf. “It was mostly a joke.” “What are you up to now?” Eddie pulled his eyes away from Steve’s leg and pillowed his head on his arm that wasn’t about to be tattooed. “Getting my masters in education at DePaul,” Steve said with a grin. “Bar tending at Dorothy to keep the lights on.” “Bothering his lovely roommate at work,” Robin added with a fond smile. Eddie's brain short-circuited and he missed the conversation going on around him because did Steve Harrington, prom king and captain of the basketball team just say he worked at a gay bar? Was Steve Harrington queer? “You good Munson?” Steve asked with a smirk that made Eddie extremely grateful to be laying on his stomach. “Looked like you got lost in your head for a second.” “Just trying to imagine you shaping the minds of our youth,” Eddie said quickly, dragging his eyes away from the way Steve's muscles bunched and pulled when he moved.

wip ask game

#wip ask game #buddie wip #buddie #steddie wip #asked and answered

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taletheoldcrowtold · 3 months

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Pride 2024 - Day 28

Movie: All of us Strangers

Made in: 2023 – Set in: 2023

Starring: Andrew Scott, Paul Mescal, Jamie Bell, Claire Foy

Rated R for: Sexual content, language and drug use

A romantic drama with elements of paranormal, it is loosely based of the Japanese novel Strangers by Taichi Yamada, it follows Adam and his relationship with a neighbor, Harry. Wanting to research for a screenplay, he visits his family home to find his parents hadn’t changed since they died thirty years ago.

It’s a slow paced movie that showcases grief and longing for acceptance as Adam tells his parents things he wished he had before they died and longs to be a family again, not wanting to lose them a second time.

Spoilers under Keep Reading Line

Harry has been dead through most of the movie and, unless Adam is dead too, they don’t end up together.

I wasn’t really sure what to expect before watching this, but it wasn’t close to what I saw. I have kind of mixed feelings about it, honestly. I feel like if it was more clear about what was happening with Adam and his parents then it would be a better movie. And if Harry wasn’t dead. If Adam actually saw his parents, like they were ghosts then I think it would be more impactful. He would be saying these things to them and not just having conversations he imagined. It handles the loneliness and grief well and I felt sorry for Adam and wished him to get passed his parent’s deaths and find someone to be with. Hence why I wanted Harry to be alive. But different things about the movie made me start to wonder if maybe Adam was dead the whole time as well. Harry and Adam lived alone in a large apartment building, which is very odd. And he is suddenly seeing ghosts (his parents and Harry, not sure if anyone else was ghosts though). Also I noticed his skin was hot a lot but he never showed any other signs of a fever (except a scene were he had a cough but that could be from anything). It might add to the ‘he died in a fire’ theory and he’s just making amends with people he had unfinished business with. But I don’t really care for stories that leave everything up in the air and up to the audience to figure out, so I was disappointed. And the fact that it was another sad gay love story doesn’t make me like it either. The acting was good though, I’ll give it that.

Mom’s Thoughts: I knew nothing about this movie when I sat down to watch it with my child. It started out pretty slow. I think the screenwriter wanted to emphasize Adam’s loneliness and his grief over some kind of loss. Anyway, I got a sense of grief and loss. He is in his forties in the film. It’s unclear exactly what is going on with this story as several interpretations could be made. At the beginning an alarm goes off and Adam goes outside the high rise apartment complex he lives in (with hardly anyone else seeming to live there) wearing only an open robe over a tee shirt and boxers. Outside no one stares at him in his underwear or react to the alarm going off loudly in the building with no evidence of a fire. Weird. He returns to his apartment, meeting no one in passing, like the building is practically empty. This is London, so the near empty building seems strange. Harry comes to his door holding a mostly empty bottle of whiskey and asks him if he wants a drink. He’s obviously drunk and makes somewhat advances on Adam. Adam turns him down. Later Adam gets on a train, goes to his boyhood home, takes a walk in this meadow and follows a man he seems to know back to his boyhood home. A woman is there who apparently recognizes Adam because of his eyes. They ask him what he’s doing now and does he like it. I’m thinking these are the people who live there now and knew Adam when he was a kid. But no. Turns out it’s his mother and father who look way too young to be Adam’s parents. They seem to be happy to see him and they all get along well, so why don’t they know what he’s doing now? Is this a paranormal and Adam has somehow gone back in time? Is this a product of Adam’s imagination? Confused? Well, so was I. When Adam returns to the apartment building he runs into Harry at the elevator, again with no one else around. This seems really weird because the building has a lot of floors (I didn’t count them but I’d say at least 10-15) so it seems strange the two never run into anyone else. However, I have watched romances where the director has taken everyone but the main couple out of the scene, I guess to show they only have eyes for each other. I didn’t really think it that strange until my child mentioned it. Needless to say, Harry and Adam hook up and start a relationship. Adam tells Harry his parents died when he was 12; Harry tells him he is pretty much estranged from his family. Adam continues to make trips to see his parents. He seems to need to tell them things that he was unable to while they were alive. Toward the end of the movie, Adam’s parents feel he should stop making trips home so he can go on with his life. When Adam returns to the apartment this time, Harry appears and we learn that he has been dead for several days now, probably since he appeared at Adam’s door with the mostly empty bottle of whiskey. He’s pretty much been a ghost the whole movie. So is Adam a ghost whisperer, someone who can communicate with the dead? Was Adam caught in a fire at the beginning of the movie and was dead too since he sees all these ghosts? Is Adam psychotic and imagined or dreamed this whole movie? We’re not told; the audience has to decide what has happened. These are endings I personally hate. If you’re going to write a story, write the whole dang story, not just some of it then tell the audience to tack on their own personal ending. Would I watch this again? No. It’s the typical gay romance story where at least one of the characters dies in the end. Or in the case of this one, has been dead the majority of the film. Which, when you think about it, is pretty creepy.

#pride #movie review #pride month #movie reviews with my mom #lgbtqia #pride movie #all of us strangers

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razorsadness · 1 year

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—I was getting kinda down on myself because I felt like I’d been really on top of my shit recently but then somehow ran out of money again. So I had to remind myself that being broke doesn’t mean I’m not on top of my shit—it just means we are living in late capitalism, and times are hard. But then I’m not going to let myself stop trying to improve my own/my family’s lives because of it, either. Times are hard but that doesn’t mean I can’t keep looking for more/better work, or that it’s not worth going back to school.

—Saturday evening, P. and I got to go out for a drink. We went to a different bar than the one we usually go to, and had the place to ourselves, so we ended up talking with the bartender. The three of us hit it off immediately. The bartender was a flamingly gay punk dude, and the first thing he said to us was: “You two have the best couple energy I’ve ever witnessed.” He said he could just tell we love each other a lot, and then he commented on the fact that we were even sorta dressed alike. Which I hadn’t realized, but when he said that…we were both wearing Chucks, and jeans, and flannel shirts over old tees. (Love each other so, closer than you know, and all that.) Then we were all talking about our favorite cocktails for a bit, and then Green Day’s “When I Come Around” came on the stereo and me and the bartender were both singing along at the top of our lungs. “I can’t not sing along to this song, you know?” he said, and I said: “Oh my god, same.” And then later somehow the discussion turned to ghosts and he told us the haunted history of the building we were in and some other nearby places, and it was all stuff which I’d never even heard! And I’ve researched that shit! We told him how years ago we went on the downtown ghost tour and it was so boring, we barely even heard any haunted stories, and it turns out that he’s one of the people that now does the ghost tours since the old group folded—and he’s a member of the local paranormal investigation group! He gave us the dates that he’ll specifically be leading the tour this year, so we’re definitely going on one of those dates. Anyway, befriending a gay punk who’s into ghosts and Green Day? 10/10, highly recommended.

—The bar we were in is also a high-end liquor store, and I perused their whiskey selection while we were there, and discovered there’s an Irish whiskey called The Legendary Silkie. As soon as I have enough money where I can justify dropping some on it, I’m going to. Because Irish whiskies are my favorite, and also because I’ve been obsessed with silkie/selkie lore since I was a wee’un.

—Sunday, I basically did jack shit. I was having a sinus issue flare-up, plus it was the first day of my period (which always comes with cramps and exhaustion and a general feeling of yuck), so I stayed in bed half the day. And yes, while I am still hustling my ass off to improve my situation, I have to remind myself it’s okay to have days like that. Especially when I physically need it. When I was younger, I would push myself past my limits, and then I’d wind up super ill for weeks or months, unable to do much of anything. I’m not willing to risk that these days, so when I need a day of rest, I take one, if it’s at all possible.

—Yesterday, I felt a lot better. I did school stuff with the kids, dayjob work + side hustle, and writing/submitting stuff. I also took the kiddos to the library for Maker Monday, and they got to mess around with robots and VR and 3D printers. While at the library, I saw the most beautiful trans woman, and I tried hard not to stare at her like a creep. I managed it—I just smiled at her, she smiled back, and I went on my way. And then in the kids’ play area, I encountered an adorable toddler. He was clearly new to both walking and speaking, and one of the few words he knows is ‘bowl.’ He found a plastic bowl in the play kitchen, and was toddling around the room, presenting it to everyone, saying “bowl!” Which he pronounced like ‘buh!’ So obviously I was super enthusiastic when he showed it to me. “That’s right buddy! That’s a great bowl you’ve got there!” And he grinned his little toothless grin and toddled away to present his ‘buh’ to someone else. Aw. I definitely don’t want any more kids, and in many ways I’m glad my kids are past the toddler stage, but it’s nice to interact with teeny kiddos from time to time.

—Today I felt pretty sucky again, physically. My period yuck has passed, but it was a bad allergy/sinus day. I wasn’t able to take the day off, but I rested as much as possible. I did school stuff with the kids, and then made a cup of tea and took it up to bed, and I worked from bed for a couple hours. After that, I felt well enough to do some other stuff. I packed up some zine orders. And then C. and I did some baking—I had a bunch of peaches left over from a meal we made the other night, so we baked a peach and blackberry galette.

—I’m deep in nostalgia these days, as per usual, but right now it’s mainly for September 2003 and September 2008—The Perpetual Motion Roadshow, and Thee Hobo Love Tour. And how the fuck were those tours 20 and 15 years ago, respectively?!

—Today, I found out that Nick Cave is playing in Milwaukee later this month. There is literally no way I can afford to go, but unlike the Blue Meanies show in July, I didn’t freak out about it. I was bummed for about thirty minutes, and then went: “Eh, so I can’t see Nick Cave in concert right now. Instead, I will sit alone in my room, dressed all in black, drinking tea or wine, and listening to Nick Cave while thinking about a girl I once knew, as god intended.”

—Overall, I’ve been better able to appreciate the small moments of contentment in my life than I was earlier in the summer. Like the fact that the weather is turning autumnal. Like lying in bed drinking tea, or sitting in my backyard drinking coffee. Like watching the birds in my backyard. Like listening to jazz while writing or doing chores. (I’ve been on a big jazz kick lately. This is fairly common for me, this cycle—listen to a ton of punk to the point where I’m almost sick of it, then listen to a ton of jazz.) Like cooking with my kids and reading with my kids.

—Plans for the next week or two include: getting the new CoViD vaccine/booster, home visit with the director for the community program we’re getting D. into, more printing/collating/packing up zine orders, submitting work to more contests and magazines, a field trip with the kiddos to our favorite nearby park/stretch of woods, and performing at 100 Thousand Poets for Change.

#ashtrayfloors #dear livejournal #personal #capitalism ruins everything around me #alcohol #encounters #mirror image see no damage see no evil at all #when i come around #haunted history #rest #illness #i love my local library #baking #i wanna tell you about a girl #small good things #plans

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wistfulweaverwoman · 2 years

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Dear Lucas,

I dreamt about you again. We were fourteen, and by we I mean that we were always the same age, except on your birthday. But I always caught up the next day. We sat together on the concrete stairs at the back field of our high school. We were just talking and you kissed my cheek. That never actually happened. But maybe I fantasized about it because it felt like a memory.

Over the years I’ve often thought about you. I wondered if, like me, you’d met someone and fell in love. I got married and we started a family. Did you? I wondered if you still like to go fast.

We were eleven the first time I saw you with your weird haircut and that Nirvana tee shirt. I can still picture it, your face. Your brown eyes and tan skin. Your hair was a warm dark brown, like maple syrup. You were small and skinny, but I was short too. I think you had the cassette tape and you showed it to me, but maybe that was someone else. I’m not sure when I acknowledged to myself that you were the most beautiful boy I’d ever met, but that never changed. At least not until my own boys were born.

Too shy to talk to you directly I found myself talking louder when you were near, wanting you to notice me too. Later that winter, at recess, Julye went and told you that I liked you. She came back and told me you said I was cool. But too fat to date. I was mad that she said anything because I already knew, those were the rules back then. It didn’t stop me from liking you. I’m not sure what that says about me.

In the spring we were running relays in PE but I was so short everyone always gained on me. You were cheering for me though. My shoe caught some friction with the gym floor and my bum knee (yes I had a bum knee at eleven) went backwards and I crumpled into a heap. Dan landed right on top of me. You called me Ricochet, a play on my name, because I was always falling and bouncing off of things. Every time I’d show up on crutches after that you’d smile and shake your head at me. I’d just shrug. I was clumsy. And you noticed.

When we were thirteen we passed each other in the wide hallway during class, so there was no one else there. The sky was blue and the sun was shining and maybe it was halloween because for some reason I was wearing the dress my mom and I had made for ren fair. As we approached each other you said that I looked pretty. Or rather you said you liked my dress, but it felt like you meant that you thought I looked pretty. I was startled and could barely say thank you. I may have only meant to but said something more like oh. We didn’t stop walking though. Not till you called my name. I turned and looked at you. I can’t remember speaking. You weren’t looking at me though, when you said nevermind and turned away.

You still smirked at me that spring when I showed up in math class with crutches.

At some point I’d had a slumber party and one of the kids convinced me (probably a dare) to call you on the phone. I don’t know how I had your phone number, maybe the white pages? We talked on the phone for hours. You had friends over too. I wouldn’t tell you my name, even though you asked several times, but you wouldn’t guess either. It was the most we ever spoke. Dan was there, he tried to guess, but he was wrong.

I have a weird fleeting memory that I went to your house once. I think I remember meeting your dad, he’s an artist, like my mom was. And your mom, but I can’t remember what she did for work. I don’t remember why I’d have been there. Maybe a school project? I remember the jungle painting your dad made on the wall.

I used to listen to that one song by the Cranberries on repeat thinking about you, which didn’t at all help me get over you, but I did it anyway. It was a stroke of dumb luck when Kelly moved across the street from you. She liked you too. It was a secret that we shared. Our own little I love Lucas club. If I could call her now I would, but she’s lost to me now too. I thought about you so much that I started to dream about you.

When we were fourteen we had English together. You sat one row over and one seat up from me. You were absent one day and there were whispers that you’d gone joyriding and your parents let you sit in jail a bit to teach you a lesson. I never found out if it was true or not, but it didn’t surprise me. You always seemed to love to go fast.

Once I got a wild hair and decided to try to learn to skateboard, probably because it’d give me an excuse to follow you around after school. I went with another girl, Meredith. We followed the pack of skater boys around like puppies, but only twice. Because I’m clumsy and my balance was always terrible. None of the boys teased me to my face and so I was never embarrassed that I tried.

After that I kind of got caught up in my own bullshit and my struggle with mental health. I started liking other boys too, and I stopped searching for you in between classes. But every time I happened to see you I thought God he’s beautiful.

When we were seventeen I moved away across the bay and finished school there. By the time I moved back to our hometown I’d thoroughly lost track of you. I’d stopped thinking about you by then, except your birthday.

I never stopped dreaming about you though.

When we were twenty-one I saw you for the last time. Your being at my work surprised me and I think I was embarrassed, because I pretended to not know you. You were there to valet an event, which seemed to track. You’d become a man, somehow. I can still picture your face. Your brown eyes and tan skin. Your hair was short, maybe a little darker, your features still delicate. The uniform was too big for your slender frame. You were so solemn. But that’s really how you were, when you weren't surrounded by your friends. At least that’s how I remember you.

When I was thirty-six I commented on something on facebook. It was some post asking what was the most embarrassing experience ever. Impulsively I commented that it was the time Julye told you that I liked you, back when we were eleven. I think I tagged her. She messaged me pretty quickly. Did I know that you had died? That it’d been almost ten years since the accident. Snowboarding. I’m shocked, but it doesn’t surprise me. That going fast was what took you. Or at least your body. I’m not surprised that you didn’t want to stick around in a body that couldn’t move. Apparently we stopped being the same age a long time ago. But I still think of you on your birthday every year. I wonder how your parents are doing.

I didn’t grieve for you then. I was too busy not grieving for the baby I lost. And then a year later my mom died and I lived in a black hole of survival that took seven years to climb out of. Something changed a few weeks ago and I started writing again. I hadn’t, not since I lost my baby.

But I dreamt about you the other night. And I’ve been crying two days straight like I’ve just found out. You died almost seventeen years ago. But I feel like I’m fourteen and my heart is broken.

My treacherous brain keeps you alive in my memories and even though I rarely remember what I dream about, when I do, it’s usually about you. I try to pack you away in a box in the attic of my brain, like I did in high school. Because you were just my crush. We didn’t really know each other, so how can I remember loving you? But that’s not really how memories work. I once read an article about memory. It was something about if you fantasized enough about a thing your brain recalls it as an actual memory.

Either way, you’re dead and it’s a fucking tragedy.

Love,

That Girl you sometimes caught noticing you

#the boy i loved that died #real life #i've been crying for two day #he's in my peeta #and cassian

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bandedbulbussnarfblat · 1 year

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doll parts chapter 1

here is my newest fic where Claudia survives Paris and finds and kills Bruce. Baby Jenks from the books is there too, and she helps Claudia and they fall in love

California, 1999

Summer in California was always smoldering. Claudia can’t feel the heat, but she can smell the sweat rolling off the people in the bar. It’s a biker bar; not her usual scene. She’s certainly out of place with her checkered skirt and blazer. There wasn’t anyone at the door to stop her from coming in, though she’s gotten a few odd looks.

Some of the thoughts the men have about her are unpleasant. About her age and her race and her looks and ‘skirt that short, girl’s asking for it’. Claudia clocks the owner of the thought and decides to drain him dry in the alley later.

All of them are irrelevant, anyway. The reason she came here is standing over by a pool table, a girl who looks no older than Claudia hanging off his arm. Bruce. The girl is wearing a leather jacket over her small frame, a Nirvana tee shirt and tight jeans with holes in them. Her vivid blue eyes are darkly lined with black and her pouty lips are glossy and pink. Her blond hair is in two braids that hang just past her shoulders. She looks like a doll.

She’s irrelevant too, really, except Claudia can’t help but think she’s another of his victims. Or will be.

That’s what Claudia thinks, until the girl looks up and locks eyes with her. She smiles and there’s a hint of fang. She’s a vampire, like her. Another woman cursed to be a child forever. She knows it, from the flash of recognition in her eyes.

Well, that could be a problem. Claudia hadn’t counted on there being other vampires. She’d followed Bruce here to spy on him. She needs to gather information before she makes a move. Her plan has to be perfect.

She’s going to kill him.

Bruce is going to die for what he did to her. What he’s no doubt done to countless other girls. Like that one looking her way now.

“How old were you when you were vamped?”

The girl’s voice in her mind still has a childlike edge to it. Claudia hasn’t talked to someone like this in a long time. Since Louis.

But she doesn’t think about Louis. About Paris. About Armand. About Madeline. No, none of that. Louis chose Armand over her, just like he chose Lestat over her. Madeline is the only one who would have ever chosen her, and she’s gone.

“Fourteen. How about you?”

“Same.”

“And how old are you really? Old enough yet to resent the one who turned you?”

“Twenty-eight this year.” A pregnant pause, then “Yours make you ‘cause he’s a pervert who likes little girls?”

Lestat is many things, but he isn’t that. No, Lestat hadn’t wanted her, she’d been made for Louis. In the end, Louis hadn’t wanted her either. Not enough to matter.

“I was made to be a daughter.”

It’s the simple answer. Because that’s what Louis had wanted, wasn’t it? To play happy family with Lestat. Claudia was never meant to grow up and become a woman. She was supposed to belong to Louis.

The girl glances over to Bruce and something cold flickers in her gaze. Hatred. That could be useful.

“Yeah? Your daddy with you? Mine keeps me close.”

“I’m on my own.” A dangerous thing to admit, but worth the risk. She’s going to have to get close to Bruce if she wants to kill him, and this girl could be a way in. Even a possible partner, if Claudia wants to take that sort of risk. Trust is a powerful thing and shouldn’t be handed out freely.

“Come join us.”

It’ll mean facing Bruce again. Claudia doesn’t know if she can do it. Except that she has to, and so she can. She takes a breath to ground herself and walks tall toward the other vampires.

Bruce doesn’t know what’s coming.

#iwtv fic

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siphisket · 2 years

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Felt emo might delete later

(Just kidding~ …although I might take out some of the text lol this thing is way wordier than I thought geez — that’s what I get for pumping it out in one sitting and refusing to edit)

Image ID below the cut

[Image ID: Image 1 depicts a blue figure with short hair casting their gaze down to the side and gripping their right arm with their left hand. The text reads, “Only finally finding the safety to ‘be a teenager’ after turning 20 is such a lonely experience…”

Image 2 depicts the blue figure turning to look over their shoulder at a smaller blue figure with long hair, the same figure at a younger age, who is curled into a ball. The text reads, “I wish I knew then what I know now.”

Image 3 depicts this younger, long-haired blue figure sitting in a desk surrounded by friends in a high school classroom. The text reads, “I wish I’d gotten to meet my friends back then.”

Image 4 depicts younger Blue now with shorter hair and ripped jeans. They’re wearing a nondescript band tee with a long-sleeve fishnet shirt underneath, and they have a black ring on the middle finger of each black-nailed hand. One friend wraps an arm around younger Blue’s shoulder while another ruffles their hair, and for the first time in the comic, the blue figure looks unabashedly happy, even if a bit sheepish. The text reads, “I wish they’d been there to give me the strength to fight for myself. To cut and dye my hair, to rip my jeans and give each other stupid matching tattoos.”

Image 5 depicts younger Blue in the back of a car with their friends, laughing and going recklessly fast. The text reads, “We could have stolen our parents’ cars and gone for screeching joyrides at 1 in the morning, flooring the gas and just getting as far away as possible because none of us can stand the idea of going ‘home.’”

Image 6 starts out with a wall of text that ruins the flow of the comic because the artist is paranoid about their words being misinterpreted but also too paranoid about posting even the slightest amount of personal information on the internet to keep that from happening so hooray for me being stupid anyway long story short I am not endorsing any of this behavior please drive safely. The text reads, “It’s not even that I like the idea of stealing a car or speeding or anything, I just wish I’d gotten to be a kid, to have had the opportunity to make ‘bad choices’ if I wanted to, for choices to have been something I was allowed to make.”

The lower half of Image 6 depicts younger Blue laughing in the back seat as two of their friends have an animated conversation on either side of them. The text reads, “It’s pathetic.”

Image 7 depicts the blue figure in the present now, back to “reality” where they’re driving an empty car, an uneasy look on their face. The text continues where the previous image left off, reading, “and I think about it every day I have to drive back from work.”

Image 8 zooms out from the previous image, where Blue uneasily grips the steering wheel of their car, looking up at the sign for the street they’re about to turn on to. The sign reads, “Family’s House St” because the author is so subtle. The text reads, “I just wish they weren’t so far away, that they’d take me with them.”

Image 9 depicts Blue driving towards a crudely-drawn house, and long-haired younger Blue sits in the passenger’s seat with shoulders anxiously raised. The text reads, “But even now I remain obedient. I’m still just so scared.” End ID]

#trying to get over the fact that this is far from my best work but i just needed to get it out #i miss my friends :(#and also not feeling an all-consuming dread every time I have to go back to my living space :’)#yet again here’s to hoping my family doesn’t find my art account ahahaha *sweats*#strict parents #ex christian #(please don’t ask I am vague for a reason)#religious trauma #growing up queer #lgbtqiia+#growing up trans #comics #siphisketches #vent #kinda #uhhh what are my tagging conventions again it’s been so long since i posted anything

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stagefoureddiediaz · 2 years

Text

Costume Meta 5x17

I decided to do this weeks meta character by character this week because it flowed better. I’m also not going to look at every costume this week - some of them such as ones worn to a funeral, are hard to make comment on because there is little scope for a costume and for colour theory when it comes to funeral attire!

Young Jonah’s costume choices were very interesting to me because of my two theories - stripe and check. We started with a maroon top with blue stripes. When you look up the meaning behind maroon as a colour it has two distinctive and opposing meanings - it can be gentle, inspiring, confident and strong. But it can also be narcissistic, overly ambitious and arrogant - any guesses for which meaning we’re attributing here?? as I wrote about in my theory - stripes mean change - changes in the path you life is on - perfectly placed here because this is the moment when Jonah begins his new journey - the narcissistic hero complex journey.

We also see his grey tie is striped as well - adding to this theory of change happening and happening gradually. We also see him in a white check shirt with blue, green and pink check and a blue shirt with a white dot pattern - all indicative of his mental stage fluctuating and changing - figuring out that he likes the attention, the adulation and the power he feels it gives him - this is why in such a short space of time we see him in so many different colours and patterns.

Putting the rest under the cut because it got loooong!

Claudette being in a Yellow top for her funeral ‘order of service’ (I’m assuming that’s what was!) was a good choice - its signposting that the conversation over her death hasn’t ended yet - that there will be more ahead that relates to her death - obviously it was foreshadowing fro the episode itself, but its going to have ripples that reach out into further episodes - beyond just this season.

We saw a couple of interesting transitions for Bobby this episode - firstly the check shirt he wore to the funeral - a clear indicator of my check theory being at play - and the fact it was the funeral outfit shows that it connects back to Claudette - this is Bobbys clothing indicating to us that all is not going to be well with Bobby going forward. I don’t have my Bobby notes to hand, but we definitely haven’t seen him in anything patterned for a while and possibly at all in S5 (like I said without being able to look back at my notes I can’t confirm) so this marks a clear turning point for him.

The other interesting and change potentially foreshadowing as well is the change in colour of his undershirt. Bobby nearly always has a t-shirt on under his shirt and up to this point the’ve nearly always bee white - not in this episode though - we had one that matched the dark grey shirt he was wearing for most of the episode. The grey for both the shirt and t-shirt was dark and a really stormy browny muddy grey. To me this represents a shift in Bobbys mindset - one we’ve all been thinking is coming - well it seems now it has - the t-shirts always having been white before suggests that up to now, Bobby mentally has been in an okay place - white is clean and neutral - it is light - now though - that tee being stormy brown/grey - t says to me the internal storm clouds are gathering for Bobby. that t-shirt is literally foreshadowing Bobbys mental break down in the next episode and going forward into season 6 - we should all be concerned for our papa bear.

I do like it when a theory plays out and I’ve never been happier than when what I said about the grey Shirt Buck is wearing played out - I said about how it would relate to the idea of ‘complicated family dynamics - Buck relating to Taylor about their respective families and the complex nature of those relationships in 5x09 - and Eddie and Buck talking about it in 5x17 - and that being part of the conversation about going to Texas. When we get a repeat outfit the original wearing of it will always tie into the later wearing - we saw that play out here.

Interestingly we also saw it play out with the white hoodie - we literally see the cracks and fractures in their relationship widening in the scene where Buck is wearing it here - The jumper is not about Lucy (it never really has been) its about trust in the BT relationship - or the lack there of! When the still came out I also spoke about the jumper being a representation of the ruth being everything to Taylor - and how the scene might bring back ‘Dosed Taylor’ and it really really did.

While we’re on the subject of the white hoodie - this is another Buck sleeping outfit - man loves to sleep in hoodie, shorts and socks - its a bit weird, but adorable really!

The last two outfits we see Buck in are his Maroon sweater when he argues with Taylor and then all in black - black shirt and slacks with a grey herringbone twill jacket with a subtle maroon check pattern on. I spoke about my theory of when and why Buck wears maroon — and this arguement has done nothing to dissuade me from my theory - this arguement marks the true beginning of the end for BuckTaylor - this is the actual catalyst moment when Buck starts to see that Taylor hasn’t changed! The really interesting thing is that it then connects into the later outfit - the maroon check pattern literally connects what happens in the arguement scene with the subsequent scene of Buck and Chimneys apartment and not only that - it connects with the Taylor we see on the TV because she too is wearing maroon - I will come back to these connections when I talk about Taylor further down.

I answered an ask about my expectations for Eddies clothes going forward into season 6 and I said I wanted Eddie in more blues and richer tones - I got both here and I am loving it - I also said I expected to see his clothes fitting him better - and this is very much the case here - that blue shirt might be being worn open, but it is much better fitted!

The olive drab cargo trousers are typical Eddie and he wears them throughout 5x17 - they are symbolic of him going into battle - he’s readying himself for war in the above picture and then actively at war in the picture below. This is almost like the last vestiges of army Eddie (whether we will ever see Eddie entirely free from the army I very much doubt but I think we’ll be seeing less and less of the cargos as he heals) we are seeing less and less of this olive drab as 5b moves on - this is all so symbolic of his healing arc - that they have been confined to trousers right now shows the level of progress he has made - Eddie is becoming the real Eddie right before our very eyes!

Eddie wearing his ‘Buck date night’ shirt is an interesting one - there is obviously the fact that its a western style shirt which is a nod to the fact he’s in Texas, but the most important thing is how the two scenes we see in 5x17 connect with both the the balcony scene - the connection to the idea of ‘you were always going to fail’ and the idea of understanding family members differently depending on your relationship to them - the very thing both scenes explore - Eddies relationship to his various family members and how it differs - especially in relation to his own relationship with Chris and also Buck - who is relevant because he is the one in the earlier scene - receiving Eddies advice.

Eddie’s watch was incredibly prominent this episode as well - it was always worn out side of his shirt sleeve and we had multiple references to time - the cake, Ramon getting a watch, Eddie being running late etc.

I’m going to cover the rest of the Diaz’s in one because they are all interconnected - we have Tia Pepa in yellow - the colour of communication - the one person who maintains close contact with Eddie (especially now Abeula has moved back to Texas - so upset about this!!) she is the only one who sees him and Chris regularly now and they clearly have a good relationship so her wearing the colour of communication places her on Eddies side - which is backed up by the positioning of the family in the party scene. Abeula is wearing pastel colours - salmon pink at the party and a sage green when Eddie and papa arrive - the salmon colour represents being good hearted and a safe space for people its the colour of fellowship and of being beloved by others - all things we see from her in the party scene - especially towards Eddie. the sage green from the tamales scene expresses wisdom, intelligence and experience - again all things we see expressed in the scene. Both tops appear to me to be made of Honiton lace.

Then we have Helena - the choice to have her in such a mix of colours in a big bold print is interesting to me because she is the colours of all the other people in the scene - the salmon of Abeula, the yellow of Pepa the two blues of Ramon and the black of Eddie - to me that is a reflection of her dominating over the various people - the more of the colour the more she dominates over them - hence the least amount of colour is the yellow followed by the salmon - then the blues and finally the black - suggesting Eddie is the one she dominates over the most and Pepa the least - which is essentially what we see play out!

Ramon wears a green plaid shirt in the kitchen scene - and check theory wins again, but the green is also interesting - this is his retirement - his new chapter, his renewal. It is also the colour of health, growth and hope, but I think in this scene it is mostly about renewal. I’m literally just going to link to my answer to an ask about Ramon’s suit jacket because I’m trying to save myself some time writing the same thing twice!!

we see Chimney in silver grey shirt with a vertical stripe pattern - the choice of colour here is really fun - grey is about neutrality and insight, while silver is considered a colour of intuition and enlightenment - but it is also reflective - as in it reflects what it sees - so Chimney wearing this when he shows his faith in Hen and her observations is super appropriate and lovely. for the rest of the episode we see him in variations of black and grey - especially dark grey. The black is appropriate when they’re sneaking into Bobbys office because it means mystery and protection but also death and fear. The dark charcoal greys are combination of both the black and the grey meanings - showing Chimneys brushes with death n this episode, but also his stability and strength and also his faith in Hen.

As for Hen she gets to rock some really cool outfits and colours in this episode, and I love that after talking about wanting to see Hen in some teal at the vow renewal in an ask, we get to see her in some here - and it looks so good on her! in this instance the teal is representative of Hen always being wise, on the look out for danger and her objectiveness - super appropriate for the scenes we see her wearing it in. Then we have all the black - the first time its post funeral, so it is mostly representative of death, but it is also about mystery - Hen is trying to figure out what Jonah is up to - the mystery element, but it also shows her fear - her fear over what Jonah is doing and it is this reason the black we see her in for much of the rest of the episode is appropriate. I would also like to point out her K necklace being on such prominent display while she is held captive - it makes Karen present in the scene- representing the fact that Karen is off screen working to get the police etc to where Hen is - to get the help Hen and Chim need.

Then we have Hen looking fabulous a dark purple/ plum jacket with matching purple, yellow and navy blue tartan trousers. The check pattern still fits with my check theory in that it represents danger - only it being in trouser form rather than worn as a top - to me that’s suggesting that the danger isn’t to Hen herself, but to someone else - namely Chim - which is what we see unfold when Chim end up being the one in the most danger - he is the one who dies twice. I don’t know if this is something we see play out at other times, and it might only relate to the extended firefam - I might look into it during hiatus if I find the time! The use of dark purple is so perfect for Hen, purple has an air of superiority to it (because it is hard to produce and because it is fairly rare in nature making it more prized) so it can be intimidating, it is also creative, enlightening and it is the colour of wisdom, mystery and magic it also encourages support towards the wearer. All of this really sums up what we see in the scenes Hen is wearing it and Hen in general.

The steel blue pyjama top (and fluffy slippers) were an interesting choice, along with what I assume are supposed to be a navy pair of Bucks boxer shorts. Blue is such an interesting colour because it has such a wide variety of meanings - here the blue is combined with grey so we need to look there for meaning too. Blue generally speaking is a colour of integrity and confidence, trust and honesty, but it can also represent depression, the oncoming darkness, fragility and coolness or coldness. Grey is stability, conservative, unemotional, insightful and practicality.

While many of these can be considered positive things, they can also be viewed as negatives or traits that can be subverted. there is also the fact that when you combine blue and grey to make steel blue - the colour is cold - there is not warmth to be found here and in film we often see steel blue colours being worn by cold and calculating characters.

We have a scene where Taylor maybe sees Hen and Chim coming to ask her for help as a way of connecting with the firefam - something she hasn’t been offered before, so of course she is willing to help - she’s been looking for an in - she wants acceptance and to seem trustworthy so she provides the help asked for - she is therefore offering insight (because she is the one with the footage) all seemingly positive things. As the scene unfolds we see things changing - she claims integrity and makes promises. Things that would normally be seen as good things, but the steel blue twists the meaning - it is all calculating and you can see her integrity is actually warped - because she only has it if it benefits her - as in until she can figure out how to make use of something or someone - the old Taylor is very much still there and her version of ‘truth’ still means more to her than the potential for harm to others. The navy boxers are about showing a claim - its showing that Taylor has access to Buck in a way no one else does (and I’m not just talking sex - get your minds out of the gutter lol) - almost showing she’s taking over all of him - its essentially a show of control over him - that anything she does - he will go with her wants - as we see from the lack of Buck now present in the apartment - almost all his furniture is gone its very much more Taylor than it is Buck. Its an interesting choice because its so obvious (we haven’t seen her in his clothes before) that it is screaming that that access is going to be short lived because Buck might be willing to hand over every other aspect of his life, but he won’t compromise on his morals and on his family.

I mentioned in my Taylor and Ana meta how her all in black look from 5x06 made me laugh because she looked like a spy - in the classic female spy outfit sense. in that scene she was on the phone and being secretive about her father - well in a scene that mirrors that one, we again have Taylor all in black and on the phone being secretive! I said in that meta that the outfit in 5x06 was shouting that she was up to no good and that it was telegraphing that she as a character hasn’t changed, that she hasn’t grown since dosed and that her arc would bring us back to her untrustworthiness - well look where we are! The black onyx necklace is an interesting touch - Onyx is associated with bad luck - the Chinese believe touching it or wearing it brings misfortune! In other cultures it is believed wearing Onyx is symbolic of focus and drive - that it will keep you to task and moving forward in life regardless of obstacles. Basically choosing to have Taylor wearing that in that scene shows very clearly where Taylors priorities lie - with her job and that she views Buck making her promise not to use what she knows as an obstacle to be overcome or got round - it is highlighting that things are coming to a head, but that Taylor won’t be changing position - she is too entrenched in her beliefs and purpose!

Finally we have her wearing the russet red top and orange/ red russet jacket. the choice of jacket - designed as if the collar and lapel are turned up - showing us Taylor knows what she is doing and is preparing her self against the oncoming storm. The use of russet red is important - its a brownish red and is also the name of a specific type of coarse woollen cloth which in 1363 the poor (those with an income below a certain level) were required, by statute, to wear in England to declare their poverty. It is a colour considered to represent grave seriousness and fighting for ones beliefs regardless of outcome. It is also the colour of autumn - the moment when everything is dying (hello dying relationship!). Russet is a form of red, so the strength and power of that colour also applies, as does the fact that red is used to signal danger. the grey flecks you can see in the jacket also suggest the unemotional and stable aspects of the colour, while the rusty orangey tones also present speak of exhibitionism, superficiality and impatience. We are seeing Taylor taking emotions out of the equation, seeing an opportunity to further her career and not stopping to really think of the consequences (or thinking of them but not actually caring enough to keep her promises)

All of this is being used to show Taylor has cast her die and picked her hill to die on - the ‘truth’ means more to her than promises or trust, it highlights the seriousness of both the story she is reporting, but also that this is where she stands and she won’t compromise on it - it shows she hasn’t changed.

I mentioned about Buck also having the same colour check running through his grey jacket and that it was important. if we taketh basic meaning of grey - compromise running those russet lines through that grey is showing us that Buck is about to stop compromising himself and start fighting for his beliefs - that he is now seeing exactly where Taylor stands and realising its not compatible with where he stands.

If you made it to the end - I am wrapping you in a bear hug because I got a little carried away! As always I love to hear your thoughts!

tagging the usual suspects - if anyone wants adding (or if I forgot you) please let me know! @leothil @lovecolibri @moniquekatie @talespinner230 @loveyourownsmiilee @adamsparirsh @prettyboyandthekid @wanderingwomanwondering @fiona-fififi @oneawkwardcookie @mistmarauder @theladyyavilee @djdangerlove @kitkatpancakestack @reallysmartladymariecurie @outrunningthedark @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mandzuking17 @matan4il @trashendence @mytherapybuddie @asharadine @hmslusitania @spotsandsocks @ekstasisandangst @tulipintulle @aknifespoint @dirtypixiewings

#kym costume meta #911 costume meta #kym costume analysis #kym costume things #911 costumes #911 costume theory #911 #911 on fox #911 fox #911onfox #long post #colour theory #911 colour theory

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goldencaravel · 2 years

Text

touch - jmk

warnings: parental loss

word count: 1259

it had been 2 months since my mom passed. 2 months of non-stop thinking of how i now have to spend the rest of my life without her. 2 months of calling ronnie on nights i couldn’t handle being by myself. but tonight ronnie had plans. she texted me earlier that day.

ronnie: are you sure? i don’t mind skipping if you want me to come over

me: you’ve been at my beck and call for 2 months. go have some fun please :)

ronnie: i will not hesitate leaving if you call or text me

me: i know you won’t. thank you🤍

ronnie is my best friend. i probably spent half of those two months at her house. everyone was extremely kind to me and treated me like family while i was there. it was comforting. the boys, who usually teased me like a sister, cut me some slack… sometimes.

the day started off great. i did my journaling, stretches and everything to get me in a positive mindset to start the day. i’d have certain memories of my mom flood back as i did things around the house. i didn’t mind that, it was nice.

however the later it became, the more uneasy i’d start to feel. i really wanted to call ronnie, have a girls night in. but i wasn’t about to ruin her fun on account of me missing my mom. with my phone in my lap, i stared at the black tv screen for what felt like ages deciding what to do.

a certain boy popped in my head. he was always nice to me. he was related to ronnie, how different could they be. so i texted josh.

me: hey

josh: hey. is everything okay… you never text me and i know ronnie is out

me: i know

me: can you come over please

josh: yeah

josh: give me 20 minutes

he texted me he was on his way 5 minutes later.

my dad checked out on me a week after mom. he just locks himself in his room and won’t come out, so i didn’t have to worry about sneaking josh in or having him answering the door.

just like he said, josh knocked on the door 15 minutes later. i opened it and we just stared at each other for a few seconds.

i quickly took in his appearance. he was wearing maroon shorts, a white long sleeve tee and some old slip on vans. his hair looked kind of disheveled like he was laying on it for some time.

he broke the silence first and asked the question i dread the most, “are you okay?”

i shook my head as my lip quivered and my eyes filled with tears. before i could say anything, josh pulled me in with a sympathetic “oh”. i held onto him, probably a little too hard, but he didn’t seem to mind as i leaned my cheek onto his shoulder and cried.

he let out a very soft, almost a whisper, “i’m so sorry” and moved his hand to my head.

this hug wasn’t something i realized i needed and josh seemed to sense that. he let me hold onto to him for as long as i wanted to. i probably could’ve stood their all night in his embrace, but he probably wanted to come inside from the chilly weather. after a few minutes i let go and wiped my tears.

“sorry” i muttered when i noticed the really noticeable spot where my tears hit his shirt.

“don’t worry, i’ve got plenty more” he smiled.

you realized he was partially in your doorway, “sorry, uh, come in.”

we made our way to my bedroom and he shut the door after he walked in. “is that okay?” he gestured at the door. i nodded.

i sat criss cross on my bed picking at the skin on my cuticles, while josh found my desk chair and made himself at home there. it was a comfortable silence for a while, josh wasn’t really sure what to say. yeah he would overhear ronnie we when we’re in her room sometimes, but this was different.

you spoke first, “i’m sorry i texted you. i didn’t know who else.”

“it’s totally okay. i’m glad you felt comfortable enough to reach out to me” he said with a soft smile. “did you want to talk about it?”

i broke his gaze and looked back down at my fingers. he saw i was chewing on my lip and took that as a no.

“can we watch a movie?” you asked.

“we can do whatever you want. i’ll spare you my commentary for the night.” that made me laugh. first time i laughed all day, maybe even in the past few days.

i found the remote and put on the first thing that looked the slightest bit interesting. i didn’t care if it was good, i just wanted a distraction and some company.

josh looked engaged but i couldn’t quite get into it. that nagging feeling was still there. he was sprawled out on my chair when i called to him.

“josh?” i said with pleading eyes.

he quickly looked over and it was like he read my mind.

i got more comfortable in my bed and under the covers as he made his way over. i lifted up the blanket for him. “are you sure?” he asked like he was scared of hurting me. i nodded, “i just need someone close.”

he climbed in, laid on his back and put his right hand behind his head. his left hand laid by his side and his head was slightly turned so he could still watch the movie. i decided to change how i was laying and turn to my side so i could watch the movie across his body. now my left hand was under my head and the other sitting on my waist.

we stayed like this for a while but my hand was slowly inching toward his. finally, i slightly put my hand on top of his and hooked my pointer finger around his pinky . he turned his head, “is this okay? your touch is just really comforting” i asked timidly, scared of his answer. “of course it’s okay. let me know if you need more” he looked at me with such kind eyes. “can- can i lean on you?” i couldn’t look at him when i said it, so i opted to look at our hands instead. “yes sweetheart, you can lean on me” he chuckled and gave me that charming smile and i felt relief instantly.

we both moved up my headboard to lean against it and i slightly leaned on his shoulder until he put his arm around me. now i was laying on his chest and he was faintly rubbing my arm. i could feel his heartbeat on my cheek and smiled to myself.

he must’ve felt it because he asked, “is this better?”

i was happy he was a little different than ronnie in this way. his touch was much more grounding. i felt myself fully relax for the first time in days. i replied, “much better. thank you josh.”

he tapped my arm twice with his thumb, “you can always reach out to me.”

i don’t remember falling asleep but i woke up to my leg over josh’s and him holding me against his chest with both arms. i checked my phone and see ronnie texted me.

ronnie: found my replacement already, huh

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #gretavanfleet #gretvanfleet #josh kiszka x reader

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rafescoke · 3 years

Text

New Girl ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Just as Rafe thought his life couldn’t get any worse, a new girl moved into town.

Warnings: Straight smut! Mentions of trauma, extreme love-hate relationship, fluff

A/N: thank you so much for 600+ followers wtf ily <33

p.s; you know the drill. . . send requests!

One thing that Rafe was sure of; he was no tour guide, or anything of the sort.

Sure, he got himself into trouble; vandalising the principal’s office and destroying school’s properties, but that was it. He didn’t try to include the part where he goes to parties to get high and wake up the next evening with a painful headache, that was more to his personal life and he believed no one in the education system could have the advantage to be mad at him for it.

“I simply just won’t do it,” Rafe shrugged, sighing against the chair. “Look, why don’t you ask Topper to help this new kid? He’s good in class.”

“You answered yourself, Mr. Cameron,” the counsellor sighed, placing a file on top of the table lightly. “He’s good at school work, and you’re not. That’s why we’re going with you.”

So that was the core reason as to why Rafe was waiting impatiently for the arrival of the new student, whom he didn’t even care about to know the gender. All he wanted was to sit at the back of the school and light some joints.

“Mr. Cameron, this is Ms. (Y/L/N).”

Rafe took a look at her. He bit the insides of his cheeks, thinking how she didn’t even make an effort to dress properly for her first day in a new schoolz

An oversized tee and denim shorts. Really?

“Hi,” she smiled, extending her hands. “I’m (Y/N).”

“Rafe,” was all he said, before handing her her timetable for the semester.

She scanned the paper, nodding slightly and pointed at a word. When she realised how Rafe wasn’t listening, she cleared her throat.

“What?”

“I got Biology with Mr Garcia. Where’s Room 3?”

Rafe scooted closer next to her, and the smell of strawberry cheesecake wafted into his nostrils. He took a step back, seething.

Who would even wear a cakey perfume?

“Uh, that’s like, at the end of the hall?” He answered, but it was more like a question. He looked at the direction he was noting, and nodded again. “Definitely the one at the end of the hall.”

“You really don’t care, do you?” She asked, crossing her arms. “Where’s my locker?”

Rafe took another look at her timetable, searching for her locker number.

372.

He turned to look at his own locker, finding the number, and letting out an ‘oh’. “Yours just 4 lockers away from mine.”

“Thanks.” She muttered, and Rafe sighed before fixing the left side of his bag strap dangling from his left shoulder. “Is that it? Can I go?”

“Not so fast, Rafe,” the counsellor sighed, stopping him by his chest. “You’re supposed to stay with her for the week. Help her get around. And you’re supposed to show her around the school compound now.”

Rafe looked up to the counsellor with a pained expression and then back to (Y/N), his chest heavy. “Fine. Let’s go. What do you call yourself again?”

Right before lunch, Rafe stayed over in his class for a few minutes before going out to the hall. He didn’t want to see the new girl, and he didn’t feel like being her assistant anymore.

But the world wasn’t that fair.

(Y/N) grinned, walking towards him. “Can you show me the cafeteria?”

“How do you even know my class?” He muttered, keeping a distance between them. The last thing he ever wanted was to let the news of him being with the new girls circulating around the school, or worse, the whole island.

“My class is directly in front of yours. We parted just now.”

Of course she would remember that.

. . .

A week went by quickly, and before Rafe would know it, he didn’t see (Y/N) anymore, and he was content with it.

Until her family decided to become neighbours with his.

“What do you mean the (Y/L/N) bought the house next to us?” He groaned, watching as Rose and Ward prepared to greet themselves to the new family.

The last thing he wanted was to show her around the fucking island like he was some kind of a hotel worker.

She was in a yellow sundress, and Rafe couldn’t help but notice the way her (H/C) glowed under the sunlight. She looked similar to her mother, both bringing pastries as a way to introduce themselves.

“Hi, we just moved next door,” Mrs (Y/L/N) said, showing the Camerons her pearly white teeth. Rafe wondered if she ever got them done, because it’s not possible for a human to have such white assets.

“Hi, welcome to Obx,” Ward gushed, accepting the pastries happily. “Rafe, take the other cake.”

(Y/N) looked up at the sound of his name, and to Rafe’s amusement, began gritting her teeth. He took the cake with a smirk, happy that he got her all worked up.

He would definitely have the best time of his life taunting the shit out of this girl.

. . .

“Hey, wanna ride a boat?”

“Topper, leave her alone,” Rafe sighed, fixing his cap so it was facing backwards. “She’s not interested.”

(Y/N) perked up at this invitation, never actually riding a boat alone if it wasn’t during a holiday since she was originally from the city. She walked towards her neighbour’s deck, her skin illuminating the golden sunrays.

“Sure.”

Rafe mentally groaned, having to deal with the girl now, but he wasn’t sure if he was angry or jealous. It wasn’t him to be jealous easily, but after a week of becoming her tour guide, he guessed he deserves some kind of a credit from her. Topper didn’t do anything, but she was gladly accepting his invitation.

Their usual stroll along the stream of the island was not like usual, since the air was now filled with the annoying chatter between (Y/N) and Topper. Rafe could never relate with them, only wanting to relax his mind and sleep it off.

“So you’re a city girl? That’s great!”

“Sure Tops,” Rafe wondered, smiling delightly. Anything to get into a girl’s pants. . .

“You know what, (Y/N)?” He called from the place he was resting, and he waited a few seconds before continuing his speech. “If you’re looking for a boyfriend, Topper’s not the guy. He hasn’t moved on from his ex-girlfriend.”

Sure, he would get a lot of shit from Topper for saying that, but he was done with the pointless flirting between them.

“What about you?”

Rafe opened his eyes, watching her from behind his sunglasses. He shifted his position, “What about me?”

“Have you moved on from your ex-girlfriend?”

Has he moved on from Kie? He wasn’t entirely sure. Their relationship was brief, but she was all Rafe had. When she decided to go all full-pogue, he knew there was nothing left of them.

“I don’t date.”

“I can see why,” she said, and Rafe swore he heard some kind of mirth behind her tone.

“Have you?”

“Moved on from an ex?”

Rafe nodded, opening his eyes slightly.

“I guess.”

“Good for him.”

“Excuse me?” She gasped, pushing him lightly. “You’re an asshole.”

She leaned closer onto him, and for a second Rafe thought about letting her in his bubble, but he quickly shoved her away. “Watch it.”

“I’m just trying to tell you about that fucking fly on your face.”

“Yeah? Liar.”

(Y/N) huffed, stomping back to Topper, and Rafe laughed silently.

1-0.

. . .

Fuck.

If he would’ve known about the police raid in Topper’s party, he wouldn’t have come to his house at all. But here he was; all pushed up against the metal chair of the police station, his hair messy and his eyes bloodshot.

“We’re taking a urine test, son,” Shoupe said, sighing. “There’s always something wrong with you.”

Rafe thought about (Y/N) suddenly, and how she was probably back home and watching some kind of a rom-com. That’s totally her; all cuddled up with a pink teddy bear probably named ‘Bear-bear’, constantly wiping the tears off her face over the sad breakup scene of a movie.

Rafe was forced to strip out of his shirt and jeans before entering the small cubicle, and having to go through this same procedure for quite a few times now, he didn’t mind giving a show to the workers.

He quickly zipped his jeans bag, handing a female worker a cup filled to the end with his urine. He yawned, already knowing the results, so there was no use being nervous about it.

He was picked up by an angry Ward an hour later. He groaned, getting in the car to prepare himself for the same lecture about his future and how he shouldn’t jeopardise it, but he was shocked when Ward didn’t utter a word at all.

It was very uncomfortable, but he guessed he was just tired.

“Good morning.”

Rafe rubbed his eyes against the bright sunlight, feeling the pain from his head slowly soaring throughout his body. He squinted his eyes at the figure in front of him again, trying to blink the blurriness away.

“What the fuck?”

“Your mom told me to call for you,” (Y/N) said, looking away from him. Rafe looked down to his body, seeing his shirtless self, and laughed.

Of fucking course she would be uncomfortable with him being shirtless.

“She’s not my mom,” he grunted, removing the covers off of him and checking his phone for the time.

12.43p.m.

“Fuck,” he muttered, and his eyes turned to her again. “What are you doing here again? Leave.”

“Waiting for you.”

“I’ll be downstairs in a few seconds,” he muttered. He didn’t need her to be some kind of maid for him.

(Y/N) muttered some curse word, hoping that riled him up, but she would be stupid if she thought a random curse word would make him Rafe Cameron angry.

It would take a lot more to raise an expression from Rafe Cameron, and a curse word definitely wouldn’t.

. . .

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

His boat was not working, but he had just filled her up the night before. This was the newest model too, and he couldn’t afford asking Ward to fix his boat again. Not when he was caught with being on drugs from his urine test last week, and the only reason he got out of the trouble was because of Ward again.

“Is it not working, Rafey?”

Rafe looked up to the sound. (Y/N) was watching him with a sly grin, shielding her eyes with her hands from the sun like she was some goddamn queen that would melt from the heat.

“What did you do to my boat?” He groaned, trying to turn the ignition again.

“What did I do? Come on, why do you always think so bad of me? That’s kinda ru—”

Before she could continue her taunt, Rafe climbed the deck, inching closer towards her and smeling that goddamn cake smell again.

Hell, he’ll buy her a new perfume to stop breathing in that fucking smell.

“That’s kinda what?” He whispered. He was so close to her now, and he could hear her breath hitching. He smirked, his heart soaring.

“You’re kinda dumb for a kook, Rafe,” she sighed. She dangled a familiar key in front of him, and when Rafe took a closer look, he noticed it was the key to his boat.

She threw the key into the water and Rafe watched it plopped, moving straight towards the deep end. His eyes flared at her again, his chest heaving.

“Hope you have a spare key.”

1-1.

. . .

That should be good, he guessed, for being in a tie with (Y/N). But he doesn’t like someone being in the same league as him, so it must be 2-1.

And the 2 from him.

But that was for another day, because Kiara Carrera was in front of him. He fixed his cap so it was facing backwards again, and then putting his hands into his pockets for good measure.

“Hey,” he greeted her. She smiled at him grimly before looking back at the menu, clearly uninterested. “How’re you?”

“I’m. . . great,” she breathed. “Why?”

“Just asking,” he shrugged, “Do you wanna go out for some drinks sometimes? Like the old times?”

Rafe curled his toes, waiting nervously.

“Um, I have to check with my parents first,” she replied. “But, Rafe, you know, it’s been. . . a year.”

“Of course,” he laughed, trying to hide the sudden emotion inside him. “I meant hanging out as a friend.”

“Of course!” She suddenly exclaimed, “If you would bring (Y/N) with us.”

“Oh, I don’t-”

“You don’t?”

“I- fine. I’ll bring her with me. Is tomorrow okay?” He sighed, already foreseeing the future.

And it’s full of shit.

“Tomorrow.”

. . .

“Wow, I am not going to third wheel you and someone, Rafe,” (Y/N) laughed, resting her back against her chair.

“Please,” Rafe begged, sighing. He didn’t know how much begging he could do anymore, not when he had so many things to do. He took a deep breath again, “I’ll do anything for you back.”

“Including hooking me up with JJ?”

“Yes- no. No. What the fuck? Where did you even know this guy?” He expressed, his eyebrows furrowing. He was not going to let her a pull a Kie, though they weren’t dating.

“He helps mower the lawn.”

Of course. JJ Maybank would never pass the chance to get some money while checking out girls.

“I’m not helping you to get together with JJ,” he sighed. “Can we go for a better option? Like Landon? He’s rich.”

“I’m richer,” she yawned. “Okay. Fine. Topper.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Not going to happen.”

If she ever thought about him allowing her to date his best friend, she has to be a lot smarter than that.

He didn’t know why he wouldn’t allow it. Maybe he was scared of Topper hurting her.

Or maybe he just couldn’t imagine her with someone else.

“Then we have no deal,” she replied simply, gazing at her newly painted nails. She gazed at Rafe who seemed to be thinking hard from the top of her sunglasses.

He groaned. “Fine. I’ll help you with Topper. But I’m warning you; he. Has. Not. Moved. On.”

“Oh, he will.”

. . .

Kie was all up on Rafe.

He didn’t know what had gotten into her, because she was never this. . . strong-willed.

Kie had her hands placed against Rafe’s chest, kissing him tenderly and sometimes running her fingers through his hair.

Rafe sucked in a breath, watching as she part. Her mouth formed into a grin, and Rafe couldn’t help but grin back.

“Wanna do it?”

Did he? Of course he wanted to “do it”. He had been wanting to do so since forever. He would be crazy to say no to that invitation, and he was definitely sane.

He looked at (Y/N), who was awkwardly perched up on the sofa, tucking her legs under her and watching some kind of a movie on her phone. Her eyes looked up to Rafe, and she quickly looked away.

“In one of the rooms?”

Kie seemed to look around the boat for a while, like he was looking for someone, but there were only two of them. And (Y/N).

“Fine,” she huffed, and pulled him towards one of the rooms by his wrist.

Kie pushed him onto the bed, and Rafe wondered how she got this side of her. Throughout their 6 months of dating, she never showed him this, so this was a bit of a shock to him.

“Hey, hey,” Rafe gripped her wrists, holding her still. “We don’t have to rush.”

“I want to,” she said, and leaned closer. “I thought you wanted this?”

They began making out, his hand slipping down her back to grab her ass, only to be met with her vibrating phone in her back pocket.

“I’ll get it,” he mumbled against the kiss, and pulled her phone out.

A picture of JJ Maybank’s smiling face right next to Kie greeted him, and his name was perched on top of the screen, signalling his call.

Of course. She never wanted to fuck him. It was always to make someone jealous. That explained the gritted teeth Kie would make when he mentioned JJ earlier.

He sighed, pushing her away so she ended up by his side. “I gotta go.”

“Huh?” Kie sat up straight, looking from Rafe to her phone. She saw the caller, cleared her throat, and held up a finger to tell him to wait.

He should’ve known.

. . .

Rafe never liked the annual Obx’s drive-in movie theatre, because he really didn’t get the hype of watching a mainstream movie that he had watched with Wheezie a lot of times before in his car.

This year, it was way worse; they decided to have some kind of a horror themed drive-in movie theatre, and the best part of all; (Y/N) was going with Topper.

Rafe groaned for the thousandth time at the rapping of a clown against his car window. He gave the clown his middle finger, telling him ‘watch it, you’re scratching my car’, and moving his attention back to the screen.

Annabelle had disappeared from the room the two nurses had placed her in, and the volume quietened before booming again when the doll had appeared in the living room, perching on top of the sofa.

He rolled his eyes, and took a look at (Y/N) and his best friend laying in the back part of his jeep from the rearview window.

They were cuddling.

“Fuck off,” he grunted, throwing his hands into the air. A human-sized Annabelle pulled on the shotgun’s door now, and Rafe gave the actor another middle finger before yelling a ‘fuck you’.

“This is ridiculous,” he said to no one in particular. He stepped out of the vehicle, knowing damn well he would be the target of the ghosts now, but he couldn’t care less. All he wanted was to step away from all of this and maybe refill his soda.

He made his way to the back of the lot, getting his money out beforehand. Some type of a wannabe Michael Myers came up, to which he quickly put a hand up to stop him.

“Don’t. I’m not in the mood.”

Michael Myers seemed to get him, because he left to scare someone else.

“Refill,” he sighed, giving the worker his cup. “Coke.”

“You mean like literal coke?”

Rafe looked behind him, surprised to see a red-faced (Y/N) holding a popcorn bucket. He licked his teeth. “Why? Have you tried it before?”

(Y/N) went up beside him, muttering about putting more caramel in her popcorn to the worker before looking at him. “You seem mad.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“That’s because you’re all up in my business,” he scoffed. He turned to look at his coke, but the worker was still filling the cup up.

Good. Did the machine break or something?

“Where’s the girlfriend?” She asked. She was clearly amused by his sudden tightness, but he quickly softened, as to not rile her up.

“Where’s the fuckbud- I mean boyfriend? Sorry. It just slipped.”

(Y/N) nodded, her mouth forming into a grin. “If you’re jealous, you can just say that.”

“Wait, wait, of what, exactly?”

She shrugged.

“Yeah, exactly. No. For all I care, you guys can get married and move to fucking Antartica and have mini (Y/N)s and Christophers running around.”

The worker placed the newly refilled coke and caramelised popcorn on the counter, and Rafe wondered why she would receive her food at the same time as his when had come here first.

He rolled his eyes, grabbing the drink and walking back towards the car.

(Y/N) jogged to catch up with him, her popcorn bouncing against her chest. “You’re rude, do you know that?”

“Jesus Christ, we’re still on this?” He mumbled. He was still walking, but he wanted her to catch up so he slowed down. He guessed it would be the perfect ending to his night to taunt her until she’s all worked up.

“I just can’t think of a reason why you’re acting so fucking rude to me.”

“Yeah? Think again.” Rafe sipped on his coke, feeling the carbonated drink sloshing down his throat. He felt content, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the coke or from the girl beside him.

“This is—”

A nurse with a bloody front suddenly appeared before them, using some kind of a spray to maximise the size of the fire from a lighter. (Y/N) screamed, turning away from the heat, and Rafe quickly caught her before she could end up on the floor.

“Fuck, fucking move,” he yelled to the nurse, who seemed to be satisfied with her work. Rafe turned to (Y/N), trying to check on her state.

“Yo, yo, you good? Why are you shaking?”

She was trembling really hard against him. She had her arms around Rafe’s neck, her popcorn splattered on the ground. She jolted when a scream came from the speaker.

“Come on, let’s get you to the car,” he mumbled, helping her walk. She kept her face hidden in the crook of his neck, and Rafe had to try his best to balance both of the girl and the Coke in his hands back to the vehicle.

Topper was no longer in the back seat, perhaps looking for Sarah (Rafe wasn’t a bit surprised at this). He was glad his best friend wasn’t there, because the last thinf he needed was two people freaking out on him.

“Okay, chill, I got you,” Rafe grunted, placing the Coke in the cup holder before seating the girl beside the driver’s seat. He sighed before climbing into the driver’s seat and locked the door in case some kind of a crazy maniac tried to freak her out again.

“What’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer, not that Rafe expected her to. She looked like she was reminded by some kind of memory, but Rafe didn’t want to dwell so much on it.

If he could, he would reverse his car out of this lot back to their homes, but he was one of the first cars to arrive at the drive-in theatre, so it was impossible to get out.

He sighed, placing his hands against his lap. “You can tell me, you know.”

She finally looked up to him, and Rafe’s breath hitched from the sight of her red eyes. He softened.

Whatever it was with that fire, it had triggered some kind of a memory in her.

He placed a hand against her lap, but not moving so; just a splat of his hand against her soft skin. He had meant for that as comfort, but he realised how creepy the situation was. He pulled away, clearing his throat.

So they stayed until the end of the movie, just the two of them, and Rafe was sure she wasn’t even watching the remaining parts of the movie. He pretended to watch, but he was really just staring at her the whole time.

Will she ever let her hair down like this again? Because he liked it.

When the movie ended and the cars were starting to move, Rafe slowly reversed the car so as to not shake her awake. But she was a light sleeper, and she woke up as soon as he hit the brakes.

She rubbed her eyes, “Where are we going?”

“Home,” he answered. “You’re okay?”

She didn’t answer, and Rafe knew she wasn’t.

. . .

Two weeks after the incident, they never spoke of it again.

Rafe tried to get an answer out, but to no avail. He didn’t get why he was trying his best to help her, because he, too, needed help.

“Nah. I won’t invite her. If you want (Y/N) to come, then you’ll have to invite her yourself.”

Wheezie’s shoulders slumped, “But you’re close to her!”

“I’m not, and she hates my guts,” Rafe replied honestly. Because that was the truth, right? She didn’t even want to tell him about why she was so scared of fire.

“Invite me to what?”

“(Y/N)!” Wheezie ran to hug her, to which (Y/N) laughed before patting her on the crown of her head. “Tell her, Rafe!”

Is she fucking serious?

“Tell me what?” (Y/N) looked up to Rafe strangely.

“Wheezie wants to have a movie night, and she wants you to watch with us.” Rafe sighed, hating how he couldn’t just ignore Wheezie. She was definitely Rafe’s favourite, being so close to her brother ever since she was born.

“Oh, is that true?” She smiled, looking at Wheezie. “Should I come and wear my best pajamas?”

“You’re not sleeping over, your house is literally 5 minutes away. 2 if you run.” Rafe rolled his eyes. He went up to the counter to pick up a sandwich before biting into it, tasting the creamy eggs and ham. He licked his lips.

“She can sleep with Sarah, right, (Y/N)?”

“If she wants me too. . .”

Rafe rolled his eyes again, “Sarah won’t be with us for tonight’s movie night. She’s starting to hang out with the pogues.”

“Why are you so against the pogues?” (Y/N) asked, when Wheezie left to write a reminder of tonight’s event in her diary.

“Why can’t you just shut your mouth?” He sighed. “It’s all bla bla bla bla. Can’t you see you’ll be happier without having to open your mouth every few seconds?”

(Y/N) bit her lips, and for a second, Rafe had to look away from the look she was giving him.

Shit. Why was he even looking away?

She turned to go away, but was halted by Rafe’s fingers around her wrist. She groaned, turning her attention back to him. “What?”

“You still haven’t told me about the night of the drive-in theatre.”

“Good,” was all she said, before she went back by the sliding door to her home.

. . .

“Rafe would be mad if he saw me watching this.”

“It’s rom-com! And it’s totally PG-13. Trust me on this, okay? Anne Hathaway, yeah, that girl, yes, she’s going to get prettier throughout the movie.” (Y/N) smiled, popping popcorn into her mouth.

Wheezie sighed, placing her head against (Y/N)’s shoulders and yawned. “Like what? Princess Diaries?”

“Yes, but this is The Devil Wears Prada. You’ll love it!”

A beam of light filled the mini movie theatre of The Camerons, signalling the late arrival of Rafe Cameron. He brought two chocolate bars, a Coke (again) and some chicken nuggets.

“Move,” he said, motioning to Wheezie.

“There are more seats around here!” Wheezie hissed, crossing her arms. “I’m not leaving (Y/N).”

“You’re not leaving her, silly, you’re just scooting more to the right.”

“What’s in it for me?” She raised a brow.

“Nuggets?”

She scooted to the side, giving more space for Rafe to place himself beside an annoyed (Y/N).

Out of all 7 medium-sized sofas in the theatre, he decided to pick the one the two girls were sitting on.

Rafe handed Wheezie the plate full of chicken nuggets, looking at (Y/N) before watching the screen. He groaned, “What’s this? Trash?”

“A masterpiece, so shut up,” (Y/N) replied. Rafe huffed, amused, and unwrapped the chocolate bar.

“Want some?”

“No.”

“Come on,” he cooed, placing the chocolate before her eyes. She grunted, pushing his hands away.

Rafe took that as his final warning. He didn’t want to annoy her even more, knowing that she will probably not talk to him anymore. He decided to wait until half an hour later, just to taunt her again.

“I’m going to get more popcorn,” Wheezie suddenly said after an hour into the movie. She excused herself to the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone.

(Y/N) sighed. Great, just like how she wanted.

“What do you want from me?” Anne Hathaway’s voice blared from the speaker, and Rafe looked at (Y/N).

“What do you want from me?” He asked, repeating the dialogue. (Y/N) watched him from the corners of her eyes, not getting any delight from this.

“For you to shut up.”

“Really? That’s boring,” he sighed. “Do you want to know what I want from you?”

“Sure.”

“I’m thinking of a few things. Maybe you, on my lap.”

(Y/N)’s breath hitched, but she tried her best not to look disturb. She shifted in her seating position.

Rafe leaned closer, feeling her heat. “Your turn.”

You know what? Fuck it.

(Y/N) turned to look at him fully in his face, leaning even closer that a part of her was practically on top of him. “Do you know what I think of you, Rafe?”

His eyes dropped to her lips, and he swore his heartbeat quit beating.

“I think about you, Rafe,” she whispered. “All pressed up against me in my bed, whim-”

“More popcorn!”

(Y/N) returned to her previous position, bewildered. She fixed her hair, and her eyes were back to the screen.

If Wheezie were to hang out with a pogue right now, Rafe wouldn’t give a fuck.

“Well, the ending’s shitty,” Rafe exclaimed, clapping his hands. He watched as the end credits rolled, and took a look at Wheezie.

He nudged her, sighing. “Wake up, Wheeze. Go to your room.”

She groaned, searching for her fallen glasses. Rafe helped her to put them on, and gave her another poke.

“I want to watch the movie.”

“The movie’s finished. It’s time to sleep. Go.”

Wheezie groaned, muttering how it’s not fair that her brother could stay up with (Y/N) to watch more movies, but she guessed she was too tired for another round of movie anyways.

“What’s the next pick?”

“Horror.”

“Nah.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause you’re going to freak out on me again.”

“I won’t,” she assured him. “Let’s go with Hereditary.”

Rafe’s fingers and (Y/N)’s were almost touching. He was still bothered by her comment before Wheezie came barging in, and he was still desperate to hear her reply.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hm?”

“What were you trying to say?”

(Y/N) stopped watching, and looked at him. “What?”

“About you thinking of me.”

She blushed. “Nah.”

“Come on,” he nudged. When she didn’t move, he tried placing his hand against her thigh.

(Y/N) stood up suddenly, and for a second, Rafe thought he had fucked up. He watched as she went to the door, locked it, and went back to their place.

“You locked the door.”

“Yeah.”

Rafe licked his lips, smirking slightly. “Ah, I see the game you’re playing.”

“What game?” She raised a brow, only turning to the screen when a scream blared from the speaker.

“Hey, look at me.” Rafe tugged on her chin, forcing her to look at him, and his eyes actually looked into hers. He noticed the (E/C) colour of her eyes now, and he swore he had never looked at something more appealing. “Tell me.”

She stayed quiet, not moving a muscle.

Rafe sighed, getting impatient. He leaned closer now, this time his lips merely an inch away from her cheeks. He could feel the heat radiating from her.

“Tell me, baby.”

“You getting all close to me isn’t helping, Cameron,” she sighed, laying her head against the sofa.

“Still playing hard to get?”

“I’m not playing anything.”

Rafe slowly placed a kiss against her temple before trailing down to her cheeks. She sucked in a breath, and Rafe smiled.

“Still playing?”

She nodded.

Rafe’s lips touched hers by a bit, and she let out a moan she had been trying her very best to contain. Rafe chuckled, pulling away.

“Still playing?”

“Shut up.”

“That’s a yes? Or a no?”

“That’s a fuck you.”

“Oh,” Rafe smiled. “Thought you never asked.”

His kiss was gentle. So soft, and (Y/N) had never felt something like that before. The kiss deepened when she let out a soft moan, riling Rafe even more.

He pulled her up onto his chest, letting her hands rest against his chest before pulling her away. Her lips were red, and there was a string of their saliva hanging from both of their lips.

“What do you want, (Y/N)?”

“You.”

“Huh?”

“You.”

He smiled, tugging on her shirt. “Off.”

She wasted no time to remove her shirt, exposing her new black bra she ordered online a few days before. Rafe sat back, his eyes dark.

“Jesus Christ.”

He kissed her neck, trailing down to her collar bones before stopping directly on her chest. His fingers fiddled with the bra clip, being so used with this already, and removed the piece of clothing with ease.

(Y/N) instinctively covered her chest, her chest heaving.

Rafe looked up to her, his eyes softening. “What’s wrong?”

“Am not comfortable.”

“Oh, that’s alright, we don’t have to do—”

“No, Rafe, I want this. I just don’t think I’m perfect enough for you.”

Rafe let out a breath, placing a soft kiss against her stomach. She closed her eyes, throwing her head back. He guided her hands away, exposing her perky breast to the entire theatre to see.

Rafe was glad he was the only guy present.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

“Shut up.”

He looked up into her eyes, wetting his lips. “I’ll do anything to fuck you right now.”

(Y/N) grinded against him, causing a groan to escape from his throat. He held her waist in place, not wanting to trigger his release.

“Do it,” she whispered.

The movie became a background noise as he fumbled with her shorts, grunting when he couldn’t figure out the knot.

He positioned himself before her, and looked up into her eyes again. Her chest was heaving, and she looked nervous.

“You’re okay?”

“I’m a virgin.”

Oh fuck.

Why would she even say that? He couldn’t even contain himself anymore.

He pushed himself into her, letting her get used to the feeling. He waited for her nod, signaling that she was okay and hadn’t changed her mind, and thrusted into her again.

His hands stayed around her waist to guide her, watching as her mouth slightly parted as he deepened inside her. She bit her lips, her nails clawing onto his shoulders.

“Oh my god.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, feeling his own forehead clammy. He didn’t notice her hands that had left his shoulder. She cupped his face, placing wet kisses against his cheeks.

“You’re so good for me, baby,” he whimpered, allowing her hands to guide his. She placed them around her breast as she rode him, and Rafe had never felt better.

If he has to taunt and annoy her more to get into this level again, he’ll do it again. Without any hesitation.

“I’m so close, baby, fuck,” he groaned. He gave her another longing kiss, looking down to where their bodies connect, and moaned loudly.

Just before he reached his end, he pulled her away, not wanting to plant himself into her. (Y/N) tried to wrap her fingers around his penis to which Rafe jerked at for being so sensitive. He pulled her hands away, his chest heaving.

“Don’t,” he grunted. His load shot out of his member, wetting the sofa underneath them, and Rafe quickly slapped his shaft against her core to get her to reach her end.

“Rafe, I-”

“Let it,” he whispered, watching as she tilted her head back, exposing her neck. “Let go, baby.”

She trembled slightly, finally reaching her high, and collapsed on top of the heaving boy. Rafe stroked her hair, pulling her into a lying position, and planted another soft kiss against the back of her head.

“The movie’s still on.”

“Watch the next part, it’s amazing,” Rafe whispered, still holding her close. They were both naked, still coming down from their highs, but Rafe had never felt better.

(Y/N) turned to look at him. “You’re still an asshole.”

He placed a soft kiss against her lips. “Your asshole.”

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uncpanda · 3 years

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The Ties That Bind: Friends

AN: You guys asked for more of Hotch and reader hanging out with their friendship and I am here to deliver!!!

Synopsis of series: Being the older sister of a literal genius? It’s not easy. Raising said genius from childhood on? An act of love. Uprooting your life again when he gets in over his head? A no brainer. Finding a new family and support system for yourself? Well, you suppose that’s just luck.

Master List

You’re waiting in the bar, with a game on your phone keeping you busy until your company for the night arrives. You catch sight of him, in a gray tee-shirt and jeans a few minutes later. You lock your phone and grin as he takes the seat in front of you, “There’s my favorite whore!” Your tone is teasing, and he immediately scowls. Even more so when others turn to look.

“I’m firing your brother.”

“No you’re not. I just wish I was there. I mean, I would have vouched for your virtue Aaron. You know, I could have sworn that . . . you’re a monk.”

His lips twitch, “I do okay for myself.”

You don’t touch that. “In all seriousness, Spencer told me what you did.”

“Does he know how to keep a secret?”

“On the confidential stuff? Sure. On things he admires? Not really.”

“Hold that thought, I’m going to grab a beer. You want another glass of wine?”

“Yes please.”

It takes him a few minutes, and with his back turned you unabashedly study him. The tee-shirt is showing off his arms, and the lightly muscled body underneath. And his jeans highlight his ass. The man should wear nothing but tee-shirts and jeans. You like the suits but this is better.

You turn your head back to your phone as he grabs the drinks and heads back your way. He sets your glass down in front of you, and you take a small sip. “As I was saying, Spencer was really impressed, with how you were there for that woman.”

He shrugs, “I just . . . I don’t get it. How any parent can look at a child and not . . . feel this overwhelming love and the desire to give them everything, and love them no matter what. All she wanted was someone to depend on.”

You nudge him, “And that sent you into the spiral of . . . ?”

“Am I there for Jack? Am I around enough?”

“You’ve gotten better. When he was sick last month, you turned down a case to go help Haley take care of him.”

“It was one of the steps I talked about in therapy, stepping away for something important to start off with, and learning to step away when I want to. Realizing that not everything is within my control.”

You take a sip of your wine, “Spoken like a true control freak.”

He rolls his eyes and leans forward his forearms resting against the table. After a minute he says, “This is nice.”

“Alcohol? Yes, I agree.”

“Having a friend.” You wait for him to continue the thought, “Boarding school, I was just so focused on getting out of there that I didn’t bother making any. And senior year, I was the new kid. I had friends in college, others looking to be lawyers, and I had some when I was a prosecutor, but when I became an agent, those fell away. It was just me and Haley. And the more I worked the more she depended on her sister and friends, and the more alone I was.”

You give him a gentle smile, “You have the team.”

“I’m their boss.”

“You’re also their friend. If you would let yourself be. You’ve proven more than once that you’ll put your ass on the line to protect them. I’ve seen you do it with Spencer.”

That sentence sobers things. You’ve never directly talked about Spencer asking for help. You’re not even sure if he’d talked to Aaron about it.

Aaron takes a sip of his beer. “He came to me with Gideon. He looked so small, and so scared, and there was nothing I could do. I hated that. I hated that there wasn’t anything I could . . .”

“Punch? Been there.”

“When Gideon told me the plan, there was no way I wasn’t going along with it. He’s too smart and too kind to not have . . .”

“Put your ass on the line?”

He squints at you, “Do you have to use curse words?”

“These are baby curse words, Hotchner. I go all week holding my tongue instead of cursing the bureaucracy that is our nation’s school system. I get to curse on my own time, at a bar, with my friend. I haven’t even said fu . . .”

He places a hand over your mouth and you grin, before he pulls it back. He’s smiling, and then it disappears and he asks, “Can you just call me Aaron? It reminds me I’m more than the suit. That I actually have friends without security clearances.”

“I get that. At work I’m Ms. Reid all day, even by other teachers. That’s usually why I call Spencer on my way out of the school, so I can be called by my name, or a term of endearment, or if I’ve pissed him off some technological term that flies straight over my head. But that was a low blow on the security clearance thing. You know I want to know the truth about the Kennedy Assassination.” You laugh and he joins in.

You raise your glass, “To real friends. And I think, down the line, possibly best friends.”

He gives you a smile, and clinks his beer mug against your wine glass, “I’ll drink to that.”

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm reader insert #cm imagine #the ties that bind

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typingtess · 2 years

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NCIS: Los Angeles Season 13 Rewatch: “Sorry For Your Loss”

The basics: The son of a mob boss is killed as the team looks for a truck full of stolen guns. Callen is still on the Katya hunt.

Written by: Chad Mazero co-wrote “Internal Affairs”, “Revenge Deferred” and “Where Everybody Knows Your Name” and “The Nobel Maidens”. Wrote “Tidings We Bring”, “Can I Get a Witness”, “All Is Bright”, “Diamond in the Rough”, “High Society”, “Murder of Crows” and “Overdue”.

Directed by: Eric A. Pot directed “Resurrection”, “Windfall”, “Traitor”, “Internal Affairs”, “Home is Where the Heart Is”, “Forasteira”, “Reentry”, “Hit List”, “The One Who Got Away”, “Kill Beale Vol 1”, “Fortune Favors the Bold”, “A Fait Accopli”, “Imposter Syndrome” and “Indebted”.

Guest stars of note: Duncan Campbell returns as Agent Castor, Tyler Poelle is back as Corey the Coroner. Isabella Hoffman is Miriam Sivac, Yssa Mei Panganiban is Angela Pak, Chad Addison is David Milton and Kevin Stidham is Brian Hudson.

Our heroes: Go to a funeral in their Sunday best.

What important things did we learn about:

Callen: Still looking for Katya. Sam: Going to Hampton University to speak about a scholarship named after Michelle. Kensi: Worried about leaving Deeks at the memorial service. Deeks: Knows how to properly chlorinate a pool after effects of a decaying squirrel. Fatima: Gets a lovely offer from the Admiral. Rountree: Knows he’s breaking Hanna Family rules, just doesn’t know which one. Kilbride: Cited in his first divorce for being a gambling man.

What not so important things did we learn about:

Callen: Driving the hearse Sam: On Lombardi Time. Kensi: Somersaulting her way to safety. Deeks: Yenta. Fatima: Apartment hunting. Rountree: Took a public speaking class. Kilbride: Apartment finding.

Where in the world is Henrietta Lange? No mention today.

Who's down with OTP: Kensi and Deeks joke about his interest in their new neighbor to start the episode. At the memorial service, Kensi is very worried about a missing Deeks as she leaves with Callen in a hearse. Fortunately, Deeks is in the back of the hearse with the dead victim.

Who's down with BrOTP: This was more a Sam and Rountree episode. Rountree wants to learn from Sam, wants to help Sam when he can. Sam is, well, Sam. Callen and Kensi work well together. Fatima and the Admiral are a good pair too.

Fashion review: Callen is wearing a blue and white plaid button down shirt. Sam is in his typical work-out gear – a black long-sleeve tee, black shorts, black socks. Later, he is wearing a different black long-sleeve tee. Kensi is wearing an olive green tee-shirt while Deeks is wearing a black one when they get to the office. Fatima is wearing a long-sleeve, dark blue turtleneck top with lighter blue stripes. Rountree starts the episode wearing a charcoal grey workout tank top and then is in a dusty pink tee-shirt. Dark blue three-piece suit for the Admiral with a blue and white checkered (tiny checkered) shirt and red tie.

At the memorial service, Callen is wearing a dark grey suit with a white dress shirt and a blue-grey tie. Kensi is wearing a long-sleeve, black dress with some black lace in her hair. Deeks is wearing a catering outfit – white dress shirt, grey vest and tie, black pants

Music: Mozart’s Symphony No. 36 (the Linz Symphony) was playing in the teaser. Josh Rennie-Hynes’s “Day Rage” was playing at the end of the episode.

Any notable cut scene: The DVD box says yes, the DVD says no but “Fukushu” has a deleted scene that isn’t in the mix. It looks like shooting these episodes and airing them out of order messed everything up.

Quote: Miriam: “I'm not a monster.” Deeks: “You had your stepson murdered.” Miriam: “ Well, he was trying to cut Dominic and me out. What was I supposed to do?“ Deeks: “I don't know, not have him murdered.” Miriam: “We don't betray each other in my family.” Deeks: “Then you probably shouldn't kill each other either.”

Anything else: Callen and Kensi are involved in a shootout/car chase. They are in a hearse, where Kensi never thought she’d actually die. The two – and a casket in the back – are boxed in by heavily-armed bad guys who box in the vehicle. Callen thinks this is why you shouldn’t make plans.

Eight hours earlier, Sam and Rountree are in the boatshed in their workout clothes. Rountree is confessing that he feels he broke a Hanna House Rule without actually breaking one. He arrived at 6AM, Sam agrees. Rountree just wants his life lesson but Sam isn’t giving lessons. Rountree considers his first day with NCIS a lesson. It wasn’t to Sam, it was an opportunity. Rountree talks about Sam giving him not only a copy of “The Things They Carry” but Sam’s personal copy. That was a lesson. It was a suggestion, according to Sam. When Rountree admits he signed up for a survival class with the “Sam Hanna 50” discount code, Sam has had enough – they have to work out.

The pair running nine-miles today, not the usual 10. Sam is going to DC with Callen. Rountree thinks this is a Kilbride assignment but it is not. Hampton University, a HBCU, created a scholarship in Michelle Hanna’s name. Sam is giving a speech. Michelle always believed that Hampton was who she was. Rountree is impressed. He offers to help Sam with his speech since he’s closer in age to college students than Sam. Sam has two words – no way.

In a driveway, a young woman is getting in her car when Callen approaches. Asking if she’s Angela Pak, the woman runs. Pak runs behind a big wooden fence along her home, picking up a small flower pot to defender herself. Callen is right behind her, identifying himself as NCIS and showing his badge. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Callen wants to ask a few questions but Pak has to go to work. Callen says the few questions are about Kate Miller, Pak’s ex. Pak freezes.

Kensi and Deeks arrive at the office, he’s talking about some sacrifices in a marriage that are work fighting for. Kensi is not interested in the conversation. He is since two people in love should be able to overcome all sorts of circumstances. If Kensi would just listen to him, it wouldn’t be a shock. Kensi is busy unpacking her bag at her desk. Kensi asks what is so shocking. Deeks shocks her with the word “divorce”. But it isn’t their divorce, it is Raquel’s. Kensi realizes that Deeks is talking about their new neighbor, Rachel. Deeks likes to talk to on trash days. Kensi calls him a Yenta. He thinks he’s striving for knowledge and a human connection a century before his time. Kensi tells him that is “Yentl”, the movie. Deeks is not going to apologize for bonding with people, it is what makes him a great special investigator. Kensi reminds him he’s an investigator, she’s the special agent. Deeks demands someone change his title so of course, Kilbride shows up from the coffee area. Since the Admiral doesn’t run his office like a preschool, Deeks will actually have to do something to get a reward.

Angela Pak calls Kate Miller a “virus” who is hard to get rid of once she’s taken a hold. She apologizes to Callen for running, she’s paranoid even though she and Kate broke up a long time ago. Callen explains that Kate is really Katya Miranova from Russia. Pak thought Katya was from Barstow. The two didn’t break up when Katya went to prison, they were already finished at that point. Callen points out that Pak was at Katya’s arraignment. “It’s cute that you think I had a choice,” Pak tells him. Both agree Katya gets what she wants. After Katya broke out of jail, Pak moved, took herself out of social media and has been in hiding. Callen asks for help but Pak won’t. She realizes that Callen is looking for Katya because Katya got close to someone involved with Callen. Callen offers his card. Saying that Pak double locks her door and runs from strangers, she’s never going to be free until Katya isn’t.

In Ops, Fatima is trying to sweettalk a landlord into renting her an apartment. It goes poorly. She grumbles in frustration just as Admiral Kilbride walks in. As she tries to explain, the Admiral admits he doesn’t want to know. Fatima tells him anyway. She’s looking for a new place to live because she wants to move out of her parents’ home. Inventory is tight and whatever is available is really expensive. Again, the Admiral is not happy. He has a case for Fatima. NCIS is taking over an ATF investigation of stolen/missing weapons. 500 shotguns, rifles and pistols are in the wind. ATF is still mourning their dead agents so NCIS is helping. The ATF has a prime suspect but he was murdered three days earlier. Fatima asks if the dead suspect was a renter.

In the boatshed, a sore Rountree is talking to Fatima via plasma screen when Sam joins in on the conversation. Fatima knows Rountree was late because of Lombardi time. Rountree knows Vince Lombardi but had to be reminded that Lombardi time means if you are five minutes early you are already 10-minutes late. Sam just wants to work which is exactly what Kilbride wants. Fatima recaps the case – four-days ago a truck was stolen from a rest stop in Tujunga, en-route from Phoenix to a gun shop south of LA before going to Camp Pendleton. The suspect in the case, Anders Sivac, was found stabbed to death the morning after the truck was stolen. He was living in Brentwood but grew up in Malibu and every other expensive neighborhood in LA. The Admiral tells the three that Anders is the son of Marten Sivac, the well-known LA crime boss. The senior Sivac was accused of a number of crimes but never found guilty. Like his son, the older Sivac is also dead. Found at the bottom of Lake Arrowhead three-years ago. The family has had no legal trouble since the old man’s death.

Sam figures that a privileged kid like Anders could have blown through his family money in a hurry and restarted the family business, a family business he may not have been smart enough to run. The Admiral thinks finding who killed Anders Sivac is likely the easiest way to find the weapons. Callen and Kensi are on their way to see the coroner, Deeks is going to interview Miriam Sivac, Anders’s mother. Sam and Rountree are off to interview the truck driver.

Corey the Coroner from previous episodes is grabbing a soda from a breakroom machine while talking about playing music at his own wedding to two highly disinterested co-workers. Callen and Kensi arrive with their congratulations. The future Mrs. Corey the Coroner is Chloe Morris, FBI Agent Zoey Morris’s cousin. Getting the case, Anders Sivac was found in Griffin Park off Fire Road near the Observatory, stabbed 22-times. The time of death was 9PM, an hour before the guns were stolen. So either someone wanted to cut Sivac out of the deal or they found out about the deal and decide to make it their own.

Deeks pulls up at a well-appointed home. Before he rings the bell, the door opens. The woman at the door tells Deeks to hurry on in but keep his shirt on this time. Deeks thinks there has been a mistake. The woman agrees – the neighbors wound up taking photos. But while Deeks is there, she’d also like him to take care of the dead squirrel in the pool. Deeks explains he’s not there to clean the pool, he’s there to talk about her son Anders.

The woman, Miriam Sivac, makes it clear that Anders was her stepson. He was also “a son of a bitch. Believe me, I knew his mother.” She and Anders were estranged. Deeks asks why. Over her 20-year marriage to his father, Anders never approved of Miriam. He also didn’t approve of her moving on with her life once Marten died. And she’s moved on many, many times. The Sivacs are a complicated family, they’ve seen their share of death.

Deeks asks if Anders had any enemies. Miriam doesn’t think he has time to list them all. Deeks thinks she does, especially since he knows who to properly chlorinate a pool after an unfortunate rodent issue at no cost. He’s invited in.

Corey returns with a lot of files and some attitude toward a co-worker. The coworker isn’t invited to the wedding since he’s allergic to shellfish. Chloe loves shellfish and other expensive things so Corey is selling vitamins at night for extra money. Anders Sivac was found wearing an expensive watch with a wallet full of cash. This wasn’t a robbery gone wrong. Callen sees some ink on Sivac’s wrist. It is a stamp from a nightclub. Fatima is going to check out the stamp to see if they can find where and who Sivac was with before his death.

At the truck depot, Rountree thinks Sam should start with a joke. Sam only wants to talk to the driver. Rountree explains it is for the speech. He took a public speaking course once. Sam is back to the case. Knowing that the quickest way from Phoenix to the gun shop was on the 10. The rest stop was on the 210 over 20-miles away from the 10, something was up with the delivery. Rountree thinks maybe the driver was padding his mileage for some extra cash or was looking for a place to eat. Sam wants to ask the driver, who shows signs of being beaten. When Sam says he’s from NCIS, driver David Milton takes off.

Rountree catches up with Milton after some stopped truck parkour but Milton escapes by taking off his zip-up hoodie. From a platform, Milton tries to jump Sam but that gets him tossed to the ground quickly. Milton has a baton and tries to swing at Sam’s feet. Sam evades Milton’s baton as Rountree arrives. When Milton takes a second swing at Sam, Sam winds up with the baton and Milton on the ground.

Handcuffed to the truck, Milton tries to explain that he was getting coffee when he was knocked out. An extra $20,000 in Milton’s bank account right after the guns were stolen. The money was paid out over three-days so the bank never flagged it. Milton is now officially their top suspect and will likely be charged with aiding terrorism. Saying he’s not a terrorist, Milton claims to be broke. He put up an ad on the dark web about the guns and turned a blind eye so they could be stolen.

Sam shows Milton a photo of Anders Sivac. Milton confirms that Sivac was his contact for most of the transaction but at the last minute, someone called and changed the drop off point from Griffith park to Tujunga. Rountree asks if Milton was beaten by the new contact. No, Milton’s younger brother did the beating with a 10-pound weight. When Sam wants Milton’s truck, Milton asks if he can be released, he’s learned his lesson. Sam just walks away while Rountree explains that Sam does not give lessons.

Fatima calls Callen and Kensi with an image from Sivac’s handstamp. While she was working on the project, she missed out on another apartment. Kensi asks about the stamp, a “V” with what looks like a snake around it. Corey the Coroner clears things up, it isn’t a snake but a ball python. He’s working weekends in the reptile section of his local Petco for extra money as well.

The stamp is from the Vandergrift Hospitality Group which owns a number of bars and clubs in southern California. Sivac disabled the GPS in his car and phone so she has no ability to figure out where he was. Callen has a thought about opening times for the bars and clubs. Since Sivac was killed around 9PM and none of the clubs opened until 10PM, that narrows the search to just the bars and the bars near Griffith Park. There is just one, Sanctuary Bar. Fatima starts pulling the security video.

On the phone, the Admiral is speaking about his disdain for “this Botox-ed juice shack of a city” to Sam and wants to speed up the case. Sam recaps the case in a good piece of exposition. Rountree arrives with news that the man who picked up the guns from Milton used a burner phone that called an insurance broker. The insurance broker is likely the buyer. Agent Castor is getting the insurance broker to the boatshed where Sam and Rountree will interrogate him.

While Fatima waits for a warrant for the security footage, she found security footage for free at a nearby construction site. There is footage of Anders Sivac walking into the bar alone but leaving with Miriam Sivac. This after Miriam said she didn’t see Anders in weeks.

As Miriam Sivac returns to her pool area, Deeks confronts her about the footage. Miriam reminds Deeks that she has a card for her lawyer nearby. Deeks pushes forward, asking if she killed Anders. She couldn’t kill a squirrel – she married into the family, not born into it. Deeks thinks she’s a liar. Miriam confirms that the family knew what Anders was doing. He was a terrible mix of “cocky and sloppy” when it came to business. She tried to talk him out of it. He didn’t listen and got himself killed.

Deeks asks if any other family members would kill Anders for the guns. Miriam is done answering questions. She’s off to Anders funeral. Deeks thinks the funeral is a good place to see if anyone associated with the killing looks guilty by not showing up to pay their respects. When Deeks says he’s joining her at the funeral, Miriam makes it clear that nobody will talk to Deeks. He knows that so Miriam is going to get him in a different way.

At the memorial service, Deeks is working as a waiter, Kensi is dressed in black mourning. Deeks doesn’t want a funeral, just wants to be composted. Kensi doesn’t want him with the weeds in their garden. She is donating her body to science. Deeks points out that they don’t have a garden because she can’t even keep a cactus alive. Kensi asks Callen what sort of funeral he wants, Deeks thinks Callen would want a Viking funeral. Callen agrees but only if he can use Sam’s boat. Callen is outside near the hearse. Deeks’s tray is a camera so he is taking photos of the people at the service. Kensi is planting microphones at the different tables.

Sam and Rountree arrive as the boatshed just as Castor sets up the insurance broker in interrogation. The broker thinks he’s there to set up a deal. He quickly learns he’s sitting on the wrong side of the table. The broker tries to leave but it is made clear, he’s not going anywhere until he starts cooperating.

Kensi comforts one of the mourners using a slogan from the catering truck. The mourner is a family doctor who is likely just there to pay his respects to a former patient. Deeks comes across a couple who own several businesses related to the Sivacs. Neither are suspects since the husband was out of town with his mistress and the wife was in Aspen with her best friend’s husband.

Callen photographs a man walking into the service while Miriam Sivac approaches him. She knows he’s NCIS. When Callen says they shouldn’t be seen together, Miriam is not worried. “Everyone already knows how fond I am of the help.” Callen is a little surprised that Miriam isn’t more helpful. She turns it right back on Callen – the only thing NCIS cares about is the guns, they don’t care who killed Sivac. Callen disagrees. Miriam makes it clear, there are people at the service who are very dangerous. She would be killed for bringing in law enforcement. She’s helped as much as she can.

Sam returns to interrogation. The broker’s office is a front. No computers, no desks, no chair – just rented office space. Rountree tells the broker that they know he was planning to buy the guns. The broker is sure planning is not a crime. Sam assures him, it is. Since the broker doesn’t have the money for the guns yet, he can’t complete the deal. NCIS will provide the funds, Rountree wants the deal set up now. The broker makes the deal, Sam and Rountree are on their way.

Fatima updates the Admiral on Sam and Rountree. Fatima took Callen’s photo of one of the service’s attendees, Dominic Carson, and traced his long criminal record. Fatima is tracking his movements before Anders’s death. Carson is Miriam Sivac’s son from her first marriage. “I’m guessing she kept that from us for a reason,” the Admiral surmise. Kensi sees Miriam talk to Carson. Carson turns to Kensi, who realizes they’ve all been made.

By the catering truck, Deeks is attacked by one of Miriam Sivac’s men. He’s cut in the forearm by his attacker’s knife but gets away before more damage is done. Callen sees Carson flee. He and Kensi get into the hearse but not before Kensi looks around for Deeks. They have no time so they take off.

The action goes back to how the episode began. The car/hearse chase with shooting. Boxed in, Callen and Kensi hear from the Admiral, who wants a sit-rep. Callen asks about Sam and Rountree but they are in the warehouse trying to recover the stolen weapons. The window between the driver and the back of the hearse rolls down and Deeks joins the party. Kensi thought she smelled fish.

Sam would like things to move along, he and Callen have a plane to catch. Callen still needs to pack. The Admiral would like to retire at some point so he’d like the team to spring into action. Deeks pushes Anders out of the hearse. For reason only known to the bad guys, they shoot at the casket and not the people inside the hearse. Kensi does a summersault out of the hearse and shoots Carson’s bodyguard. Deeks yells “federal agents” so one casket shooter points his weapon at Deeks. That was a fatal mistake. The other surrenders. As Carson tries to drive away, Callen stops him. Claiming he’s hot and sweaty, Deeks wants to go home.

At the warehouse, Sam and Rountree distract Carson’s men long enough to engage in some slo-mo hand-to-hand combat. Sam gets to throw another bad guy to the ground and Rountree joins in on the fun. That gets a little smile from Sam with a “late again” comment.

At the office, Fatima is writing up some reports when the Admiral arrives. He jokes about her moving into the office. He recaps the case. The Admiral sent Fatima a number. An old colleague owns a number of apartments. He forwarded her his number. Fatima doesn’t think something makes sense. The Admiral thinks she’s talking about the apartment but she’s not. Instead, it is about where the money NCIS wired to Dominic Carson wound up.

In the boatshed’s second floor interrogation room, Deeks is talking to Miriam Sivac with a rather large bandage on his forearm. He thinks Miriam got sloppy, she blames the martinis. Miriam claims not to be a monster, even having her stepson murder. But it is a family business and Anders was cutting out Miriam and Dominic. “You to betray each other in this family.” Deeks doesn’t think they should kill each other either.

With 20-years in the family, she wasn’t going to let Anders take away her share. She went to the bar with an ultimatum to Anders. Miriam lawyers up. Deeks has one last question – did she kill the squirrel?

Callen is back at Angela Pak’s. She was surprised Callen never asked about her record. He didn’t see the relevance. Pak did. She stole files from her law office. She didn’t go to jail but she was disbarred. The arrest was when she was with Katya. Callen knew it likely had something to with Katya since Pak was never in trouble before or after. Pak thinks she can trust Callen. He assure her she can.

Admitting she hates who she was with Katya but hates even more that she can’t remember the person she was before Katya, Pak offers a Callen a key Katya left behind. It opens a safe deposit back. A horn honks – it is Sam. Callen thanks Pak as he leaves. She does not double lock the door behind him.

Outside the house, Callen tells Sam he’ll buy what he needs in DC. Sam hasn’t written his speech yet. As Rountree did earlier in the episode, Callen suggests starting with a joke.

What head canon can be formed from here: This episode, which was the first shot of season 13, had a real season 12 feel with the majority of the characters siloed into their own storylines. Callen worked with Kensi, Sam was with Rountree, Fatima and the Admiral were a pair while Deeks was solo for most of the episode. Yes, Kensi and Deeks arrived together, yes, Callen and Sam drove away together but mostly everyone was with their assigned mini-team.

Nice to see highly capable Deeks in most of the episode, the Rachel/Raquel conversation aside.

As for head canon, the Admiral has a first divorce and not just a divorce which means there are likely a few former Mrs. Hollace Kilbrides. The beginning of the nice Fatima-Kilbride relationship starts here. Rountree sees Sam as a mentor/teacher.

Episode number: This is episode 284 overall, the fourth episode of season 13.

#NCIS: Los Angeles Rewatch #NCIS: Los Angeles #NCIS: LA #NCIS Los Angeles #ncis la

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xeulousluv · 3 years

Text

Almost

AN: Hello everyone, I am fairly new to posting on this app, so therefore I am still learning how to use it. Hehe :) Anyways, I hope you are having a great day!

Warning: Nothing really, maybe a little bit of angst?

Zayn and Y/n broke up and all he’s left with are the videos she took during their senior year of high school.

September 1st, 2010:

The camera was set up in her hand as she was slightly fixing her hair, a huge smile plastered on her makeup covered face. He always thought she looked better without makeup, but sometimes you couldn’t beat the insecurities.

“Here we are, the first day of senior year! How are we feeling, Zayn?”

Next to her stood himself, a much younger version of himself. Two years to be exact. He was almost unrecognizabel, with his usual high school attire adoring his body. A white tee-shirt, black skinny jeans, and not to mention his varsity football jacket hanging off of his shoulders. She looked lovingly at her boyfriend, her eyelashes beating against the softness of her rounded cheeks.

“I’m ready to get out of here, the last three years were the upmost worst years of my life.” Zayn spoke truthfully, he hadn’t expected to make it past the ninth grade, but with the help of Y/n, he managed to make it all the way to his graduating year. Y/n gave him an offended look before responding, “Hey! If it weren’t for these last three years, you would’ve never met me, let alone had the courage to talk to me. Am I really that bad?”

She laughed out while speaking, all so he knows that she is joking and would never accuse him of thinking such things. Though, he was already two steps ahead of her and was laughing along at her sad attempt of looking offended. “Of course not, baby. You are what kept me going.” With that, Zayn kissed her temple and she let out a small giggle before stopping the camera.

September 5th, 2010:

Random small talk was heard on the computer sitting in front of Zayn, before her face showed with a bright glow. She was so beautiful it almost hurt. She was laughing at something her friend Emery said, though it was completely inaudible, he just let the smile take over his face hearing her laugh again.

“I don’t exactly know why I turned this on, but hello! We successfully made it through the first week of school, and let me just say, it was not fun. The teachers still hate me.” Again, Y/n laughed towards the camera.

“I remember this one time last year when Mr. Lambert threw me out of class because I wouldn’t stop laughing. In my defence, he was talking about the safety of condoms and Zayn kept mocking him. That was a detention worth going to.” Zayn remembered that day clearly. He sat to the left of Y/n, Mr. Lambert’s first mistake, and would whisper in her ear how he would show her the proper way to wear a condom when they got to her house that night. To say he did end up showing her was an understatement.

The camera then turned to her friend before she continued on with what she was saying, “Anyways, Emery here, has informed me about this back to school party for seniors at Anthony Stilettos house. So, we are heading to the mall so we can get a nice looking outfit for tonight. I’ll see you guys later!” And with that the camera switched off.

He thought that was the end of the video, but when she popped back on his screen, he was pleasantly surprised. She wore a black dress that just reached her knees, the end of it rippled and flew each time she took a step. Her hair and makeup was done, and her shoes matched her dress, she really was the most beautiful person he has ever met.

Without saying anything, Y/n moved the camera to where the view was now on Emery. She wore a simple tight red dress that fit her like a glove, she was placing bobby pins in her hair before realising a camera was watching her every move. Emery turned away from the mirror Y/n had in her room, and started making random poses into the camera. The video finally ended with Y/n facing the camera back to herself while laughing at it.

October 7th, 2010:

It was homecoming. Their final homecoming, and of course, Zayn asked her to be his date. He didn’t go all out like the previous years, this particular year was asked right after they finished giving each other their all. They were bunched up together, all sweaty and breathless, and that is when Zayn asked her to go to homecoming with him. He thought it was gross because of their previous activities, but Y/n thought it was sweet, endearing even. It was personal and intimate, she wouldn’t have had it any other way. Plus, she was tired of all the attention that comes with getting asked to homecoming.

Her dress was a beautiful shade of baby yellow, Zayn wore his usual black suit but with a yellow tie and a yellow rose pinned to his coat pocket. The night couldn’t have been anymore magical.

“Z, are you ready to go? Emmy and Dallas are waiting in the car.” Her soft voice echoed through the speakers, she was worried about being late. But more so, excited about what the night had planned for the couple. Zayn was fixing his hair, like he does any other day, however today, he wanted to look his absolute best. “Just one more second, love. Gotta look perfect before leaving these four secured walls.”

Y/n rolled her eyes into the camera before another smile took over her face. It only got wider as he finally announced that he was ready.

“Baby, you look handsome! You don’t need all that hair gel, make one wrong move and we’re calling you Uncle Jesse.” Zayn scoffed, his hands finding their place on her hips, him being pressed up against her back. His chin resting on her shoulder, they looked so in love. They were so in love.

October 31st, 2010:

Fall was Y/n’s favorite season, meaning Halloween was by far her favorite holiday. She squealed into the camera when Zayn walked out in his Peter Pan costume. “Baby, you look so fucking adorable!” She cooed, though Zayn was having none of it. “Do we have to go to this party? Can’t we just stay in and watch scary movies, I promise I will protect you if you get too scared!”

He knew it was no use, Y/n had been going on and on about Anthony’s costume party for the past week, so when she started laughing, Zayn internally groaned. “Brave of you to assume I will get scared during a horror movie. How about we go for just an hour, then you and I can come back here and watch whatever movie you want?”

At that, his ears perked, he could go for an hour. That gives him all the more time alone with his love. “Hocus Pocus? That’s my favorite.”

“Yes baby, we can watch Hocus Pocus, do this for me, and I’m all yours for the rest of the night.” A grin was stretched across his face as she leaned up and gave a peck to his lips. Adoration shining brightly in her eyes as she looked up at him. “You are so lucky I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you, Zayn. More than you will ever know.”

December 31st, 2010:

“Hola, my favorite people! Happy New Years Eve, I hope you guys are having a good day. My family is having a little party to bring in the new year, even though you won’t be watching this until later when I decide to post it, I hope you guys have an amazing holiday. Be safe now. Bye!”

Christmas and New Year’s was hard for Y/n. She had major separation anxiety for everyone she grows close to, so not being able to see the people she loves for a whole two weeks was taking a toll on her. Not to mention, Zayn went back to Bradford for the holidays, so he wasn’t there to keep her calm. All she had was the emails and messages he would send her.

However, that night was different. She didn’t know what it was, but the air felt more intoxicating. There was something she was missing and the young girl couldn’t put her finger on it.

Emery got ahold of Y/n’s camera without her noticing, pressing the ‘record’ button and smiling.

“Hi, as many of you may know, my name is Emery White. Before questions start racing through your head about where Y/n is, she is currently in the kitchen talking to one of her neighbors, and she knows nothing about this so, shhh!” Emery held her index finger up to her mouth, even though she is talking to a camera.

“So, the time is now 11:58, meaning it is almost New Year’s and I got a message from a good friend of mine to get her camera and start recording. Oh wait, she’s coming over! Act normal!”

“Emmy? Why do you have my camera, wait no, when did you get my camera?” Emery turned her neck to look at Y/n, and smiled while looking at her friends confused face. “It’s almost midnight, I figured we could record the big moment for your journal thing.”

Y/n looked at her watch and sure enough, it was 12:59, and the people around her were counting down. By the time Y/n looked back at her friend, Emery had switched her position to behind the camera, her smile now stretching to her eyes. She gave a confused smile towards the camera before shaking her head.

10..

9..

8..

A tap was felt on Y/n’s shoulder making her turn around, not believing her eyes, she had to do a double take. There he was in all of his glory. Zayn stood in front of her with a bouquet of random flowers, her eyes widening in complete shock.

3..

2..

Before she could fully process his presence, Zayn had planted his lips against hers in what he would call, one of their best kisses. His arms went around her waist while hers were around his neck, keeping him as close as humanly possible. She was the first to pull away from the kiss, tears forming at the bottom of her eyes but never fell. Zayn pulled her back, this time her face went into his neck as he whispered out a small, “Happy New Years, baby.”

May 22nd, 2011:

Senior prom, a day Y/n has waited her entire life for. Getting all dolled up for one night of perfection sounded glorious. Unlike most people, her dress doesn’t reach the floor but goes a little ways past her knees. It was a light shade of green, she wasn’t usually one for the cliche pink and blue, and her stomach was laced over showing her belly button peircing. She felt on top of the world, the most gorgeous she has ever felt in her entire life.

Zayn was in a nude tuxedo, a lightish green tie tucked into the blazer. “It’s prom day, baby, how do you feel?” The now well-known camera placed in front of his face, though he paid no attention to it, but really the girl behind it. “Like I have the most beautiful girlfriend in the world. How did I get so lucky, hm?”

The blush was evident on her face, he could see it perfectly now even with the camera facing him and not herself. He could still see the light in her eyes. Looking back on it, he couldn’t imagine living his life without her, how could he let her go?

It wasn’t like they got in a fight or anything, Zayn and Y/n were going to different colleges and he didn’t want to do the whole long distance thing. He felt she deserved better than that. So even though the breakup was absolutely not a mutual agreement, Y/n somewhat understood and let him walk away.

“You’re such the charmer, Zayn. Always got me blushing for no good reason.”

“I would be a bad boyfriend if I didn’t.”

Now turning the camera to face both of them, Zayn placed a kiss on her lips before turning off the camera and letting their night go on as best as it could, for it would be one of the last good memories they have. Except at the time, neither of them knew the last time would actually be the last time.

June 4th, 2011:

“Hey everyone, I just want to start off by saying congratulations, we made it. Graduating today was the most amazing feelings, and I’m sure you all can agree with me. The past four years have really taught me a lot, I know I sound like the Mallory Barnes, our valedictorian that gave the speech today, but I’m serious, you all have been amazing. Teachers included.”

Y/n wasn’t in her usual attire. She was in a comfortable baggy hoodie, and that’s all you could see as her camera was propped on the desk in the corner of the room. Her hair was in a messy bun, no makeup, and her glasses were sat perfectly on her nose. What no one could notice was the slight puffiness to her eyes, the way they were red and tired. But Zayn noticed, however. When Y/n first uploaded this to her instagram, Zayn couldn’t bare to watch it, so seeing it now definitely brought back a feeling he tried too hard to push away.

“In the past four years I have learned about friendships, I learned about love, and I learned about heartbreak. I have got to say, high school brought me some really great friendships that I will cherish forever. I am finding it very difficult to say goodbye, but we are bound to go off and do bigger and better things. The future awaits for us.”

“I just want to thank you guys for the amazing memories, and I hope you guys make your dreams come true.” Y/n sighed into the camera, she was really bad at saying goodbye, though you would think it would be easier considering no one likes high school. However, Y/n loved every single second of it, maybe not the learning but the memories made.

“Now, I am going to get really sappy for a minute and say a massive thank you to the man who has loved me for the past four years. Zayn, I know we haven’t talked in a few weeks, and you’re probably not even watching this, but just know that I am so proud of you. I don’t know how I could not be. I really hope you make something wonderful of yourself. You were by far my favorite part of this journey. Thank you for sticking with me and for loving me. And even though we aren’t together anymore, I love you.”

“We almost had it all, didn’t we?”

AN: Yeah, I don't think I like this babahahah. Love the concept but someone out there could definitely write it better.

#zayn mailk #zayn x reader #zayn malik fanfic #zayn malik angst #angst fanfic

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