#OHMYGOD THE IMAGE OF HIM WITH HIS HAIR DOWN
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stop STOP STOPST NO FUCKING WAY
THIS IS AMZING
AHUFASIDGBDSIUBN!>?!??!NISUDHFGIUSDHFUIGHSDIUFHIUSDHFI!??!?!/ AR EYOU SIERIOSU!?!? I LOVE YOUR ART SO MUCH AND YOURE JUST GONNA MAKE ART OF MY CHARACTER AND EXPECT ME TO BE NORMAL!?!?!?
STOPSOOTIHGDUBHVNJISJDNV IM GONNA FUSGYFBHVNJKL!?!??!?!? /!??!?!?!?!??!? I LOVE THIS SO MUCH THANK YOU!?!? THANK???? THANK????????? I bfiudshjn???!??!?!
i keep seeing an opposite version of radford in the tags, so im proposing a radford vs radford epic rap battle who will win
@jacenotjason
#NO IM LITEARLL#im stimming os hard i need to GET i need to pace hHAHHA#OHMYGOD THE IMAGE OF HIM WITH HIS HAIR DOWN#...now im embarrassed#i ne#need to be better I CANT BE GETTING FANART THATS BETTER THEN ME#GOD I LOVE THIS SO FUCKING MUCH#HAHHEUGBHDNJK#I LOVE IT SO MUCH DUDE I CANT. FORM WORDS#IM gonna cry.#IM GONNA CRY IM BEING SERIOUS#THANK YOU SO MUCH#huff#ok ok ok OKAY NORMAL TAGS#thankyousomuch again#spooky month#opposite radford#radford#radford spooky month#[ for me!! ]#OPJV! Radford
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alive with the glory of love
(older!rockstar!eddie x older!actress!wife!)
a valentine's slice of life with our favorite rockstar almost thirty years into our marriage. the year is 2023 and we're still stella rink and we're still famous as hell. aged like fine wine. a decades long career and a decades long marriage with two twins in their late twenties. this is semi from the twins perspective. we know what our life was looking like before, let's see what it looks like now. :) eddie manip by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple cw: 18+ minors dni, allusions to smut/wearing lingerie, but overall this is a short little something. reader and eddie are both 57, so, sorry if you don't want to be fifty seven. but if i have to be in my 'early twenties' every time i read a fic, you can be older for like, seven and a half minutes.
The phone eases into focus, Violet’s giggle sounds as she presses record, leaning on her elbows at the kitchen island. The room is a sun drenched, black and white tiled vision — still partially stuck in the 90s, remnants of your old life, despite the ongoing renovations. Despite the teasing from your adult children. Some stuff just never lost its charm – plus, the kids were calling it ‘a 90s vibe’ and you were both pretty sure that was cool.
“Morning, happy Valentine’s Day,” Violet says sleepily, Van trudging in behind her. They both take lazy seats on the bar stools across from the chef stove that their father is delicately working over.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, honey,” Eddie calls over his shoulder, daintily pouring pink batter into a cookie cutter mold on a hot pan. The kitchen and dining room are filled to the brim with flowers and balloons. Eddie’s been up for hours getting everything set up for you, some things never change. Some things never get old.
“What’re you doing?” Van asks.
“What do you mean, what am I doing? I’m making mommy—” He turns around with a furrowed brow, deepening his forehead creases before he realizes they’re recording him. He sighs before turning back to his task, “Guys, again with the phone?”
“C’mon dad, they love you!” Violet begs, putting her phone down and shoving it in her sweatshirt pocket, “Van show him the comments on the last one.”
“They think you’re hilarious, they want you to have your own account,” Van encourages, he opens his own phone to bring over to his dad. He grew up to be a spitting image of the two of you, as if they pasted Eddie’s face on his and gave him all your other features. The color of your eyes, the texture of your hair. Your bright, enrapturing smile. A perfect fifty-fifty.
Van scrolls slowly through the endless comments, Eddie squinting down at them, “Van, I don’t have my glasses.”
Eddie peers down lower, “What does that mean? ‘I know it’s big’? What’s big?” “New…choker…just…dropped? I didn’t make chokers for merch,” he shrugs, waving him away to pay attention to the stove. “Ew,” Violet laughs, “Stop making him read these out loud, that’s so gross.”
“You should still make your own,” Van says, sitting back down, “It’d do way better than the one for Corroded.”
“Have your mom do it,” Ed shrugs off, “She knows how to do all that internet shit.”
“That Howard Stern clip is going viral again,” Violet says devilishly, “The girlies are obsessed with you.”
“I don’t care about the girlies, Vi,” Eddie blushes, flipping one of the pancakes on the pan, “I care about your mom.”
“I just wanna show them what you guys do for your favorite holiday,” Violet whines, “They’ll love it.”
“They’re gonna call him a simp,” Van teases, a look of realization washing over his face, “Wait, you’re such a simp for mom, actually.”
They both laugh, Eddie doesn’t know what ‘a simp’ is so he laughs too.
“That’s a good word for like, a DND character type — you should see about that in your campaigns,” Ed continues while he plates a pancake on an ever growing stack of pink and red.
“Ohmygod Dad, no, that’s not—“ Van laughs silently into his hands.
“Stop making fun of him, he’s old,” Violet pleads between giggles, taking her phone out again, “Dad, seriously can you just tell us what you’re doing? Why do you love Valentine’s Day?”
“Is this for your TikTok thing?” he asks, pulling his dark curls up in a ponytail with a black silk scrunchie, bangs he can’t quite part with falling in waves over his brow. ‘My Pilates teacher was telling me they’ll be safer on your hair,’ you’d said — and he’s never been one to say no to you. Every time the kids came home they’d take their phones out and make Tiktok’s of the two of you, sometimes you’d make a solo one for Violet or Van’s page if you felt like it. But with Twitter and Instagram, you didn’t want to overload your assistant with some other form of social media – but it looked like the two of you were really popular. Especially Eddie.
Violet educated you about ‘fancams’ which were just clips to music. There were a lot of the two of you together, or you solo from your movies and shows in the 90s. Progressions of you then and now and how you’re still ‘so hot’ and ‘unproblematic’. Eddie’s almost always started with the clip of him at Howard Stern, jaw ticking while he tried to keep his composure: ‘Excuse the fuck out of me, what did you just say about my wife? Do you wanna lose your fuckin’ teeth?’ The comments were always flooded with a mess of young people losing their shit: ‘god i’ve seen what you’ve done for others’ ‘stopppp he’s obsessed with her’ ‘@vidawn i hope your mom can fight’ ‘@vannywayne @vidawn i’m five years younger than u but i would be a great step dad’ ‘when is someone gonna fight howard stern FOR ME?’ ‘@vannywayne @vidawn they’re thirsting over your dad again’ ‘i’m banging on the walls of my enclosure’ 'ewwww we hate cheaters' ‘i NEED to fuck him’ ‘@vannywayne you look EXACTLY the same’ ‘are they looking for a third?’ 'idgi he looks dirty' ‘they are notttttt making them like him anymore’ ‘not him being old enough to be my father i’m sick’
“Obviously,” she snaps back, rolling his eyes when he starts touching himself up for the camera.
“Should I do a couple of push ups so I look buff or…?” he teases. Violet and Van make a face that puts any face you’ve given him to shame. It’s the only regret he has about having kids with you – all that attitude had to go somewhere.
“Fine, fine,” he huffs, “I’m ready for my close up, Vi.”
“You’re so cheesy, dad. Just be normal for like, five seconds,” Violet huffs, taking out her phone again, “You’re ready?”
“M’ready,” he smiles. “Okay, so, what’re you doing?” Violet asks again.
“I am making pancakes,” he starts, pouring red better into the cookie cutter mold on the pan this time, “In a heart shape, for your mom.”
“How long have you been doing this?” she asks, a smile spreading across her face. It matches her dads. There was no mistaking that Violet was Eddie Munson’s daughter.
“Since we got together, so – the first one was in 1990,” he muttered, flipping the pancake, “I do it every year ‘cause she loves it. They’re strawberry, but they’re pink and red ‘cause I put food coloring in them.”
“Is Valentine’s Day her favorite holiday?”
Eddie grins, “No, her favorite holiday is the fourth of July. Not ‘cause she’s got a boner for America or anything. She just likes fireworks and when I use the grill.” “Is it your favorite holiday?” Van asks this time. Eddie nods, a bright blush pushing up on his face.
“How come?” Violet and Van ask at the same time. Eddie turns the burner off, placing the heaping plate of heart shaped pancakes on the center of the island. He opens the wine cooler on the opposite wall, pulling out a bottle of champagne and two flutes from the top cabinet.
“‘Cause I get to spoil your mom all day,” he smiles, “She deserves it.”
“You spoil her every day,” Van teases, “I can’t think of a more doted on woman on earth than mom.”
“She’s very special,” he shrugs.
“And you do this every year?” Violet asks, zooming in on the pancakes.
“Every year for the past thirty four years, well, minus ninety-two,” he frowns a little, “We had some time apart that year.”
“Still had my chef make them for me though.”
Your voice cuts in from the large arch way connecting to the dining room and Violet pans quickly over to get you in frame.
“Hi mom,” Vi says, “Is this your favorite holiday?”
“No,” you shake your head and laugh, the same laugh he fell in love with, “It’s the fourth of July. C’mon Vi, how long have I been your mom? Do you even know me?” “You’re supposed to be in bed, honey,” Eddie frowns, “You’re ruining the surprise.”
“The surprise that’s older than my kids? How could I forget,” you grin, rounding the island and greeting your husband with a gentle kiss, “Happy Valentine’s day.”
“Happy Valentine’s day, baby,” he murmurs into a second chaste peck, “You’re supposed to let me bring them up to you.”
“My kids are home, I don’t wanna spend all day in bed,” you pout. He pouts back dramatically, tugging on your arm to pull you flush against his chest.
“I thought you loved spending all day in bed with me,” he pushes some of your hair back before resting a palm on your cheek, moving in to kiss you deeply. The scruff on his chin scratches around your mouth but you never care because he still kisses you, he kisses you every day. He’d kiss you all day if you let him. You had too many girlfriends whose ex-husbands were on their third wife and every year they’re more surprised that Eddie is still on his first.
“Okay, I think that’s our cue to leave,” Van says, Violet stops recording. Their faces sour.
“Yeah we don’t want a January ‘94 repeat or anything,” Vi jokes. The twins high five at their own mean reference to your horrific sex tape debacle, but you and Eddie toss them a playful glare.
“Hey, she might be your mother, but she’s my wife,” Eddie warns, hand sneaking down to rest on the small of your back to pull you close to him, “Don’t mess with her.”
“Yeah,” you tease, crossing your arms, “You saw what he did to Howie’s studio. I just gotta say the word.”
“So scary,” Violet rolls her eyes, leaving the kitchen with her twin in tow, “We’re taking the Jeep to get Jamba Juice, do you want anything?”
“My usual,” you answer while Eddie goes to the fridge to get grapefruit juice out of the fridge, “And get daddy’s usual too. Do you want his card? Where’s your card, hun?”
“Wherever you last left it,” he responds, gracefully pouring grapefruit mimosas for the both of you.
“It’s in my purse,” you call out.
“Which one?!” Violet calls back, both of them waiting by the door.
“The pink Kelly!”
“Got it! Do you want anything else?” Van calls out.
“Just uh,” Eddie giggles to himself, tossing you a once over, “Take your time!”
“Gross!” they yell back in unison. Eddie waits for the door to close to pull you back into him, he watches you at first. Brown eyes cascading over the slope of your nose, your cheeks, the crinkles at the edge of your eyes, your smile lines. He looks at you like he’s looking at you for the first time, every time. He looks different, but the same. Dark curls smattered and entwined in silver, a nose ring, a never ending scratch of overgrown stubble. Deep lines on his forehead that exaggerate his already animated features. Lips still full and warm, hands still big and covered in rings. He’s kept his body real tight for fifty-seven, still throwing himself in the gym daily. ‘If I’m gonna be addicted to something now it might as well be like, my cardiovascular health, babe.’ His crows feet make him somehow more attractive, his smile got better with age. He still makes your heart race when he catches your eye from across the room. “You wearing that little red thing I like?” he purrs in your ear. The tie to your robe sliding between his inked fingers.
“Maybe,” your finger trails over a tattoo on his bicep, “Maybe, I got something new for you to see. Maybe it’s black, maybe it’s strappy. Maybe it’s that thing you saw when we went shopping last week.”
“Christ,” he huffs, pressing a kiss to your cheek before stepping back over to the counter, “Do you ever stop getting hotter? Eat your breakfast before I bend you over this bar stool.”
“Let’s bring it upstairs like you wanted,” you smile, following him closely to press your hips up against him, “We can get a little messy.”
“Yeah?” he growls, pushing part of your robe away to see a peek of black lace and strappy leather, “Fucking god, Stell.”
“C’mon,” you whisper breathily, pushing up on your tiptoes to kiss him again, “They’ll be home soon.”
Some things have changed, some things remain the same. He still fucks you like a rockstar.
#eddie munson rockstar au#rockstar!eddie munson smut#rockstar!eddie smut#rockstar!eddie munson#rockstar!eddie#eddie munson fluff#rockstar!eddie fluff#older!eddie munson#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fan fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x y/n
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Steve-O X Bimbo!Y/N HC’s!
Steve-O X Fem!Y/N
Warnings: Suggestive content, crude language, drug use, alcohol, lingerie, dick size jokes
An: Thank you for sending in requests! At the moment, my inbox is as dry as a desert, so please keep them coming! While writing this fic, the dynamic i had in mind was sorta similar to Michał Wiśniewski and Mandaryna if that makes sense :) I really love writing for Bimbo!Y/N so if you have a requests regarding that, feel free to send them my way!
The two of you couldn’t be more different: you, a multimillionaire heiress, and your boyfriend, the guy on tv who sets himself on fire and shoves stuff in his ass for a living.
To break it down, the dynamic between you and Steve is that of a rich woman and the little dog she keeps in her purse
And because of that, you really couldn’t be a better match for each other!
He’d never been one for the whole party girl, heiress type, but he was surprised at the fact that a girl as normal as you was brave enough to go for him in the first place, disgusting antics and all
But there was something about his edgy, manic bad boy image that you were all over!
Unlike what usually happens with celebrity couples, it was you dragging him around to every party in LA and showing him off to the paparazzi
I mean, how couldn’t you? Your boyfriend knew all these fun tricks!
Steve couldn’t complain about all the newfound attention and free flowing drugs, pulling out all the stops to impress you and your rich friends.
A couple people tucked dollar bills into his mankini as he shook off charred bits of hair from his last stunt while preparing for his next,
“Alright! Does anybody gotta stapler around here?”
Respectively, you tagged along to every Jackass premiere, wearing your sparkly little kitten heels and cute sequined mini-dresses while Steve stumbled in with one hand on your waist and the other gripping a fourty,
Likely shirtless, wearing a pair of sneakers and baggy jeans that sat a good couple inches below his boxers.
Still, that didn’t stop the two of you from going all out with the PDA in front of the cameras…
The rest of the jackass guys were shocked when you showed up, having written him off every time he mentioned that he was dating that Beverly Hills party girl from all the tabloids
Blinking in surprise at the two of you, an amused smile spread across Johnny’s face, “Wow…when you said you were datin’ Y/N, you really wernt kidding, O…”
Eagerly shaking Knoxville’s hand, you gushed about how excited you were to meet him,
“Ohmygod! This is sooo crazy! Stevie’s told me all about you guys!”
From out of your line of sight, Bam shot a glance at Ryan and made some comment about what street corner Steve picked you up on.
Your everyday life was so vastly different from his in so many ways!
Take the day you met at a cafe for lunch- one of those fancy places that he could barely believe he was eating at,
“Y’know, I’ve been livin’ off’a cold cereal and Hungry Mans for, like- forever…”
Unlike most girls in your position who’d find that a turn off, you just saw it as him missing out on good food, “Really?” You leaned in close next to him, pointing to a few items on the menu,
“Well, if you ask me- I think you should try this, ooh! Or this- and this is really good too…”
Steve’s etiquette isn’t exactly up to standard, so while you nibbled away at your fancy French pastry, he drank directly from his bowl of soup.
The paparazzi loves your relationship. Or really, really hates you- you couldn’t tell
“Y/N slumming it with Steve-O in West Hollywood Cafe!” One tabloid headline read, printed in bold red text above a photo of the two of you,
But what they didn’t show was the second that followed- you giggling and reaching out to wipe the corner of his mouth, and him smiling in that cute, boyish way he always did.
After a while of you gushing over him like he’s just the most perfect man, like- literally ever, his buddies began teasing him about you
Whether it was about how Steve didn’t smell like Newports and ass anymore and that the world must be ending or how, for lack of a better word, civilized you were making him.
Hell, even Knoxville got on him about his fancy new clothes you paid for,
“Well, it’s like she treats you like her toy or somethin’. I mean, she’s a beautiful lady- don’t get me wrong, but…”
Of course, this led Steve into a long, drunken rant about all the kickass hollywood parties he’s been going to- all the booze and drugs and bad behavior you could stomach,
(Not to mention the wild sex you had)
He vividly described the time he got so horribly drunk at Carson Daily’s place that he nearly took his eye out with his bidet
“And if you think that’s bad, you don’t even wanna know what I did to Nick Lachey’s sheets, dude…”
On the weekends, you’d usually drag Steve around a couple boutiques or the mall even though he couldn’t buy you fancy clothes given he was dead broke
But he couldn’t complain about his smoking hot girlfriend asking his opinion about what underwear she should buy at Victoria’s Secret,
“Ooh, look at this!” You held up the most gaudy cheetah print bra known to man, “Now we can match!��
Well, he wasn’t about to argue with that…And he knew the value of a woman who could appreciate cheetah print.
While you were in one store or another, you ran into an old friend and told your boyfriend that you’d be right back as she pulled you aside
“Y/N- what in the world are you doing with a guy like that?”
Well, you liked him- a whole lot in fact, but you knew that answer wouldn’t satisfy her. So, you thought of the next best thing,
“Well…” Leaning in conspiratorially, you whispered in her ear, “He has got the biggest cock I have ever seen. I mean- massive.”
Yeah, she can tell that to the tabloids…
When Steve later asked you about what the two of you were chatting about, you told him the truth and you could’ve sworn you saw him blush, “Wait…But I don’t-“
“Yeah, I know you don’t! But she doesn’t...”
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hello.. im back from reading them.. uh and HUGE spoiler warning, like spoilers for everything cuz i cant keep my mouth shut.. this is also really long so im so sorry if you actually read this 😭😭 i just wanted to yap
OHMYGOD!?
ok. so. chase is burnt out, thats rlly sad 😭 hope he isnt too burnt out that its effecting him way more than he can handle,
his beach boys outfit is adorable. deacon not being on the island and chase being stuck with buddy i knew was gonna be terrible from the start. when i saw chase hand buddy a water bottle to light the fire i thought it was sweet that they were getting along, same with buddy telling chase he can have the second fish.
at first, i thought buddy was hearing the whispers so i didnt really think much of it.
the “buddy being a vampire and chase freaking out” was really funny, i found that hilarious and just chase thinking buddy was cute (even if he said it was in “a jerk way”, it was still nice and i wonder how that will go down (after the most recent chapter)
buddys face when chase pulled the chocolate out looked like a dog seeing a ball, it was adorable ngl
my heart sank when chase made a comment about buddy not being treated well and then buddy shivered.. like hm i seriously wonder how he actually is being treated, yk? like all we see of him is him being a jerk and just genuinely not giving a shit about anyone or anything (until the most recent chapter in which ill get into that in a second..)
deacon was not having a fun time with the seagulls 😭😭😭 rip deacon 😔
the way chase bribed buddy with the last bar of chocolate was so funny
chase hit buddy in the face with a ball 😃👍🏼
buddy then threw chase in the ocean and called him tiny (damn bro making fun of his height, its okay chase is just fun sized ☠️)
buddy with curly wet hair felt weird but it looked nice on him
i found it sweet that chase wanted to help buddy, even if all buddy has been towards him was rude. shows what type of person chase is and it makes me love his character so much, everyone needs their own chase lol
i know buddys main goal is to get the keys, and so it would be very unlikely that he would throw that away to become friends with chase, but man. when chase called him out on it and the shattered heart image in the background… awh man.
the small fight they had was sad, but once buddy left chase was sitting on the ground crying, i may be wrong but i dont think we have seen him crying until now, right? brb lemme go check
ok i like reread the entire thing and few times we saw him cry was when we saw him visit myra for the first time in the story (that we see ofc) and it was just for a split second, and also in the same episode visiting his fathers grave, he seemed to cry a smige more but thats all.
+ while doing the research for that, i realized that in the very first episode chase got a black eye and when he went out of the book, he didnt have it anymore. so (again ill get into this when i get into the most recent chapter and what happened then) but at the same time, the second episode was more of a “hey! this is how this mess started!” sorta thing, so we dont know the timing of it.
in the morning when chase wakes up and sees buddy, from the way buddy is speaking im pretty sure he was upset about the conversation the night before too, as he’s never been that violent with anything towards chase before. im not saying buddy is a violent person, but at the same time, its concerning a bit how he took “the two characters have an argument “ and his anger took over him and make it a hostile argument instead of verbal.
“and if they do make you miserable, you deserve it” hm i get that chase is upset, i mean buddy is quite literally being a psychopath at this point in the story, but man.. when i read that i was just in amazement that that came to mind, i dont blame the guy ofc but still. didnt go over well, buddy seemed to be pretty affected by it, which brings up again, i do genuinely wonder how the ex libris is treating him to make him so easily shaken / angry when its brought up.
buddy hurt chase. now to be fair, chase sorta (i think) kicked him and made buddy land face first in the sand etc. but he didnt draw blood. buddy drew blood, now what i noticed when this happened is buddys first instinct was to drop the spear and instantly basically panic. its clear he didnt genuinely mean to hurt chase, but he still did.
now as said above, we dont know if these injuries can travel from book to real life, as we dont have solid proof that they do. but its obvious, even if its fake, that the characters still feel it, so that must have hurt a lot (ofc it did lynx you dumbass bro is literally bleeding on his face 😒) but if they do travel to the real world, how is chase going to hide it? its a slash under his eye on his cheek, decent size too. doesnt seem that easy to cover. i mean, he does have like 47 skin care products so maybe he can cover it with that somehow but im not sure
back onto the point above, buddy’s first instinct was to (first pause and stare) and then drop the spear, making it clear he didnt mean nor, even want to hurt chase maybe. buddy is usually good with his words and with what he says, it all comes out perfectly as if he is reading a script when he speaks. he was choking on his words, “trying” to explain why that happened.
“n-no, i-“ “i didnt mean that, i just-“ “i wasnt…”
he was obviously not prepared, nor did he want to. again, he was after the keys, he wasn’t after hurting anyone.
(which this is all quite obvious, however i love to yap and i have no friends in person that also like cinderella boy so shush let me nerd out for a sec)
it kinda felt uncomfortable seeing buddy so.. what’s the word? unsettled? upset? surprised? one of those, maybe all three. this entire episode for the most part felt off putting, buddy not being his “ha i dont care, just go away” persona and instead getting pissy (more that usual) and even upset at the end. it just didnt feel right and its so obvious that after this the next story that chase goes into (if he continues) will be so different compared to these when it comes to interactions with buddy.
“youre just a scum, you know that?” YIKES BRO 😭💀💀 chase is uh yeah i just wanted to mention that line
seeing chase with tears in his eyes, obviously looking genuinely scared and saying “all i wanted to do was help” HURT MY SOUL. again, mentioned above, we rarely see him cry, and the only times we did was when visiting his sick mom and his fathers grave. thats it. the fact that hes cried now twice because of something buddy has done is huge, dont ya think?
chase ran away crying, which ykw i dont blame him, buddy’s body language was also a huge giveaway that he genuinely felt bad because again, hes usually so confident in the way he poses, and from the moment he hurt chase to the end of the episode, he was holding himself, just standing there.
also the fact that the last panel is one of the chocolate bar wrappers blowing towards buddy’s feet was also interesting. like putting salt water into a cut yk? (haha get it cuz theyre on a beach island and chase has a cut.. haha.. okay sorry)
SUMMARY/THEORIES
okay so these were a LOT to take in, and chase being already burnt out might be a reason he cried so easily, but you never know. i think buddy gaining chase’s trust without trying and KNOWING (or probably knowing) he had chases trust and just not caring and broke it without a thought kinda sucks, but as said TWICE. we dont know his situation. for example, what if he will get hurt or someone around him will if he doesnt get these keys? we dont know why he does what he does so we cant really excuse nor can we blame him.
i saw them getting along and from that second i knew it was going to end terribly.
my theory is, that when deacon comes back he will see chase hurt and upset, and buddy either will be no where in sight (very likely) or he will be very quiet and not making a single noise in the background. deacon will see chase, probably be really confused and then realize who chase was around. now, im not that great at reading characters.. unless like i study them HARD so all this next stuff just might be bs, but ima say it anyways because its tumblr.
now, i think once they get out of the book, deacon will beg chase to tell him what happened, if he didnt already in the book, even if deacon already knows without saying. deacon, being deacon, will probably panic, and either 1) try to convince chase its a bad idea to continue. 2) try to convince chase to take a break and make deacon do them for a small period of time (very unlikely). or 3) deacon will be hesitant to continue, but if they do then he will be a lot more protective of chase, and possibly look more into books completely without any sort of villain.
its obvious there could ALSO be other scenarios, but these are the ones i came up with. another is that chase could stop completely, and just give up. but thats HIGHLY unlikely as its literally part of the story and silver and bronze will probably try to support him.
now, with the chase and buddy dynamic… oh wowie. this is a slow burn enemies to lovers story, which means this wont be miserable for a long time, however it still asks the question “well how are they going to react towards one another” and my GOOD friends, who the fuck knows. (punko thats who)
however! its impossible for them to go along and pretend it never happened, because its clear they were both hurt by it. even if it wasnt completely just physically. maybe buddy will stop appearing in the books for a second? what if he’s replaced by another member? ikik unlikely. okok, well what if in the stories buddy just stays quiet and entirely follows along with his character? i feel like that wouldnt last long and i dont think buddys that much of a jerk to try and dodge it. chase? i feel like chase would try to dodge it, i mean after this he has to fear buddy a little right? they could also be a lot meaner to one another, but i also see that as very unlikely. i can see chase being more cold, but for some reason i cant imagine buddy being as rude as he was in the beginning, or even rude to being with.
all in all, i really dont know what theory to go with, MAN I WANNA NERD OUT MORE ABT THIS. 😭😭😭 (yk w someone who will actually listen cuz my friends irl dont give a shit)
holy shnizer that was a lot of words... okay well if you read all of that then we might as well be friends cuz man i talk a lot about subjects i like.. BUT YEA. WILD RIDE. WOWIE.
me when it comes to cinderella boy:
#webtoon#cinderella boy#webcomic#chase hollow#buddy cinderella boy#buddy x chase#cinderella boy webtoon#spoiler warning#holy shit#i cant think straight
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It Belongs In A Museum
"John ... I thought you said this was a library?" Sherlock turned a corner and found himself in the middle of what instead appeared to be ... a museum?
John meanwhile, rounded the corner and came crashing into a halted Sherlock.
He looked the taller man up and down before peering about the room before them. Trying to see what might have arrested his flatmate's attention?
John's breath caught.
.
Hanging on every available inch of the walls ...
. Were brilliant works of art, in every style and fashion ...
Full sized paintings ... hand drawn sketches ... and mostly digital works ... some full color, some in a manga or comic book art style ... but all featuring ...
. "It's ... it's us?"
.
John asked, stunned.
The question had also paralyzed the detective. Try as he might ... he simply could not compute the sheer amount of time and effort that had been put into this lovingly curated hall of art works ... ?
"John ... are you seeing-?"
. "What you're seeing ... ?" John finished for him, "yeah mate." He nodded imperceptibly. Unable to tear his eyes away from the mesmerizing pictures that graced the gallery walls.
His tongue darted out to wet his lips, as he caught a glimpse of something he definitely wanted a closer look at! And he was off ... Sherlock hard on his heels.
They spun about, smiling ... laughing ... tugging each other to see and comment on various pieces ... catching themselves eyeing each other with newfound wonder as they explored ... and often a hand over their mouths as they suppressed the joy that threatened to spill over like an uncorked bottle of champagne!
John had never seen Sherlock so animated, as when he was choosing his favourite image of John and having John imitate - or try as he might - NOT imitate - the position or stance that the artist had put them in ...
They landed on the floor laughing and rolling in each others arms after chasing each other around the silent gallery ...
Until John remembered - they were in a gallery! or what was supposed to be a LIBRARY! - and he hushed Sherlock with a finger to his lips ... Following it with a hesitant ... and careful kiss.
Their first.
Sherlock blinked.
"How long has this been going on, John?" he asked, needing to know more. John shrugged, his smile deepening even as he flattened himself against the ground and simply enjoyed the feel of Sherlock in his arms ... The man was gorgeous with his hair all aglow in the gallery lighting ...
. "I honestly don't know, Sherlock," he replied ... tugging the detective down by his shirt front for another good snog ... "but I'm guessing they all noticed it before we did?"
. Sherlock hummed in acknowledgement. Accepting John's lips and the warmth of his nearness like a glove that fit only too well ...
.
John felt a twinge in his back at being on the cold, hard floor too long though - and pushed Sherlock off of him, playfully - rising and helping the man to his feet.
"Guess we should see what we came here for?" John offered, leading the way, "think the library is back here? Ah!" He flicked on a lightswitch behind a pair of double doors ... and a
. "WHOA!!!!"
Slipped out of their mouths simultaneously ... jaws dropping.
As the darkened warehouse before them flickered to life, row ... by illuminated row ...
Revealing hundreds ... if not thousands ... NO ... HUNDREDS of thousands!!! Of stories ...
. Written about ... them?
.
John winked at Sherlock.
Before dashing ahead in a mad chase. Each grabbing up several volumes apiece and meeting to read a few pages ...
. "Look at this one!"
. "John - you won't believe-!" "Sherlock!" "John!"
. "This is-" "-I'm taking this one!" "This is brilliant!"
. "We're in a sci-fi!" "oooh an epic!" "OHmyGOD!"
John's giggling could be heard a few rows down, and Sherlock tucked another in his pocket and swung around the shelving to peruse over John's shoulder.
His jaw dropped.
"I think ..." John grinned wickedly "... I've found the E rated section ...!"
Sherlock's eyes grew wide as saucers and he tore the book from John's hands ... devouring pages at a time! Then he looked up at the rows and rows of shelves, his gaze glossing towards empty - but John could see he was critically engaged in making a heavy calculation.
"Verdict?" John asked, smirking. Having allowed the great genius to do his mental gymnastics.
"I think we're going to need more bookshelves at Baker Street," Sherlock stated, "... and we may need to try everything suggested."
"For science?" John asked, solemnly.
"For science," Sherlock agreed. Hiding his own burgeoning grin.
Then they both stood. Sheepishly looking down at their own feet ... and then at the rows and rows of unexplored fiction they could wander through ... endlessly ... nightly ... for the rest of their lives ...
.
"John ... ?" Sherlock asked, then, quietly. As if whispering in a holy room, "... what did you say this place was called again?'
He was a boy again. Full of wonder.
.
John smiled. Recognizing the dawn of a new era of their lives. He answered, just as solemnly,
"I'd say it was ... an archive of our own?"
.
Then he met Sherlock's adoring eyes,
. ... as the lights above ... winked.
For @sherlockchallenge February Prompt: Museum. and for all you lovely @fluffbruary writers and artists making the month delish.
@johnlocky @fluffbyday-smutbynight @ohlooktheresabee @john-smiths-jawline @whatnext2020 @chinike @rhasima @totallysilvergirl @blogstandbygo @egregiously-chuffed @raina-at @thelazyecrivain @topsyturvy-turtely @the-reading-lemon @aquilea-of-the-lonely-mountain @safedistancefrombeingsmart @keirgreeneyes @elwinglyre @belles-magnetic-violin @thesunandherflannelcurtains @iwlyanmw @meetinginsamarra @hellolovelyscientist @ecsapingthereality @wizama @anyway-kindness @inevitably-johnlocked @iamjustreading @demonicangeling @summerfly-blues @eplapourdissant @lovelenivy @kittenmadnessandtea @leny-nguyen @calaisreno @discordantwords @thetimemoves @7-percent @shelleysprometheus @anyawen @gregorovitchworld @janetm74 @mrb488 @hasenkind687 @khorazir @kettykika78
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(Commission from @pinelews, sharing with permission.)
Y’all, oh my goodness. I don’t know that I have the words to express how crazy I am about this but I’m at least going to try. I love it too much to not give it at least that.
Usually when I'm commissioning someone, I have an idea laid out and I try to find someone I think could execute it well, but this was an idea that I'd specifically come up with for this artist, laid out after seeing his commission sheet. By and large most of the stuff I commission is just silly and fluffy- which I have no doubt that he could have done as well!- and one thing that really drew me to his art was just how intimate and raw things felt. And I'd been wanting to commission something more intimate for them for a long time, but I just couldn't come up with a solid idea until I found his art. Spent two late nights scrambling on pinterest so I'd finally have enough reference images to reach out to him😭
It is so entirely captivating to me. The kind of piece you lean in for, holding your breath without realizing it. I've spent too much time the past few days zoomed in to see the little sliver of Delmar's blue eyes or the curve of Pete's jawline- there's so many details that just make it, and I keep finding more things to love the more I look. (Pete's absolutely gorgeous collarbones??? Hello???) They look so human, with the roughness of the sideburns and stubble coming in, shaggy hair falling every which way- they're so perfectly unpolished. It's the kind of moment when you don't really care what you're looking like.
And just the moment is captured so well, that sweet, delicate stillness, all that tension...I'm losing my mind. And it is very intimate, very charged (which is a very very good thing!!!) but also just as sweet. There's love in this as much as there is tension- and I think that's what makes it feel so perfect. There's no looking up in reverence without sincere admiration, no cradling and stroking the face of someone you don't have affection for, none of this kind of vulnerability without the connection they share. I love how needy and pathetic Delmar looks (his natural state), lost in his own little world with nothing but Pete in it- the goddamn lip bite is making me crazy. And ohmygod how sweet is that look in his eyes😭And that's before we even talk about Pete! Still got that stoicism to him that's true to his character, but he's betraying a greater softness- something that we see in the movie during the opportunities he has to be close with Delmar. This is just that same feeling, taken to its natural conclusion. And he's being so damn tender! The hand placement was something I specified, but he really just made it perfect, to the point where you can feel the weight he's putting down in your own hands. I love the gentle upwards curve of the hand in Delmar's hair, and the thumb by his lips...oh my lord 😵💫 And for all the sweetness Pete's showing, he also just seems really amused by Delmar. Feels like there's the hint of a laugh in that smile- which is exactly the way Delmar ought to be looked at.
I'm gonna have to make complement lightning round a tradition on my commission posts at this point, 'cause there's still so much I want to compliment. The way Pete's hair is catching the light is INSANE and one of those details that makes me feel in awe of artists as a whole. The lighting makes the atmosphere just perfect, so cozy and warm and yet still salacious- icing on the cake. And I'm so happy about the wallpaper 😭 Love having the world around them fleshed out a bit + I think it adds to the warmth. The clothes wear on the perfectly, especially the downstage sleeve of Pete's shift and the snaps on Delmar's suspenders. The hands are insane (even I know those are hard) and I don't know why but I just love the fingernails- just things that, again, make them feel more human. The eyebrows are another example of that. They do not need to be as perfect and seemingly meticulous as they are, being such a small piece of this whole thing, but I'm so glad they are. They add another layer to this whole piece and give me another detail to fuss over. I'm not kidding. I've wanted to highlight specifically the eyebrows this whole time. And I will never write about art of them without highlighting the NOSES. Every time I see a well-drawn nose, I do a backflip. One of my favorite things to see ever.
I probably should have put this at the top of all my rambling, but anyone who's made it to this point, please please please do yourself a favor and consider commissioning this artist. And just check out his art! It's crazy good- I love his sense of line (the only way I know how to put it lmao.) He was THE nicest, fantastic at communication, and the quality of his work is just so good. Y'all don't know how excited I was to know I'd be working with him. Good egg all around.
#I could keep talking but I'm not trying to scare nobody lmao#I got a lot of enthusiasm in me#and I think it's best getting to share that#even if I seem a little nutty#I did write this instead of editing my fanfiction like I'm supposed to....#this'll help with the vibes trust#o brother where art thou#obwat#rambles#obwat art#stuff i've commissioned
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Aoyagi Toya (青柳冬弥) is a second-year student at Kamiyama High School. He is a member of the street music group Vivid BAD SQUAD.
Toya's father was a famous classical musician and trained Toya and his two older brothers in classical music from a very young age, specifically piano and violin. His father would isolate Toya and force him to study classical music at all hours of the day, causing him to despise his father, and by association, the entirety of classical music. As such, he started performing street music to rebel against his father and eventually met Akito while singing on the street.
He sang together with Akito under the name BAD DOGS before forming Vivid BAD SQUAD with An and Kohane. Even after joining Vivid BAD SQUAD, he still operates under the BAD DOGS unit with Akito.
As a first year, Toya was classmates with Nene in Class 1-B. As a second year, he is classmates with Mizuki in class 2-B.
Appearance
Toya has sharp grey eyes and a mole under the corner of his left eye. His hair is short and bicolored, the right side a dark blue, the left a light blue. His voice is cool and calm.
Unit Outfit
His outfit consists of a white graphic tee with a red collar and a purple hoodie underneath a grey jacket with black and white accents, and black ripped jeans with a red belt and long grey straps attached to the back. He wears a long necklace with a silver-colored triangular pendant and large grey sneakers with red shoelaces. He also has chunky blue headphones. The image on his shirt shows a light grey box with a cow skull outlined in white.
His second outfit consists of a black turtleneck shirt with faint wavy designs, underneath which can be seen a long, tattered white shirt, and gray pants with ripped knees and a blue stripe down the side of the left leg. He wears a navy blue jacket with white lapels, a blue hem and cuffs, and the word "DerMond" written on the bottom-left. He wears a long silver necklace and white-and-blue running shoes.
Personality
Toya is quiet and calm but has a strong mind. His face is often deadpan, and people other than Akito and Tsukasa have difficulty reading his expressions. When people talk to him, they usually mistake him for being rude, as he is blunt and often misphrases his statements. Until becoming part of Vivid BAD SQUAD, he wasn't one to smile frequently. Despite his stoic demeanor, he is kind and quick to help others. He can occasionally be airheaded or gullible.
He is good at studying and gets high grades, a trait that he shares with Kohane. He can sometimes be strict with Akito about the latter neglecting his studies.
Aoyagi (青柳): Ao (青) means "blue", and Yagi (柳) means "willow".
Toya (冬弥): To/Tou (冬) means "winter", and Ya (弥) means "extensively, increasingly". hai kio!! guess who :3
ohmygod ENOIGH ifk who this is but eerrrrrr IDKKKKKKK MY BRAIN IS JUST NOT BDAINIVG
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reblogging comment review from @zyafics
it’s 6:47am and i went “why not” so here i am reading ⬇️
You were home.
PAUSE DID I MISS SOMETHING
Your father, with his disheveled hair and red-rimmed eyes, swung the bottle in his hand dangerously close to JJ’s head. Each wave of the bottle sent droplets of amber liquid flying, dotting the floor like gruesome confetti.
god this paragraph eats ur descriptions 🤌🏼 (the amber liquid, the droplets on the floor? yeahhh i know u ate with that)
It was Rafe.
ohmygod im spiraling right now
You felt a surge of nausea, your stomach churning with revulsion of yourself. The nightmare still clung to you, the vivid memories of his hands around your throat making it hard to reconcile the image of him sleeping so peacefully.
what if she runs away (i would eat that up🤭)
Sleeping around—no, not just sleeping, practically baring your soul to one of the people that had destroyed your life? That had taunted and beaten your brother? Your friends? That killed a cop and got away with it? The thoughts circled in your mind, relentless and unforgiving. The cool night air was a temporary relief, but it couldn’t wash away the shame eating you alive. How did it come to this? How did you go from hating Rafe to being tangled up with him like this?
why am i so scared of the upcoming angst
Maybe you were holding on to the only person who managed to pull you out of Ward’s grasp, fooling yourself into finding some good in someone who had caused so much pain.
stockholm syndrome (it’s not… i think)
Rafe's voice cut through the air, his tone urgent, "How the fuck did you not see her leave? Did someone take her?”
he’s so protective of her i’m so in love 💍
Rafe's head snapped up, his blue eyes widening in relief as he caught sight of you. "Thank God," he breathed, his shoulders visibly relaxing, “Fucking hell, Maybank.”
THE FUCKING BUTTERFLIES 🦋
His arms were around you in an instant, his warmth enveloping you. His hands rested gently on your back; fingers splayed wide. For a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into his embrace for the last time, the tension in your shoulders easing ever so slightly. Barely looking at him, you pushed him away, your movements sharp. His hands fell away from you, confusion flickering across his features like a shadow passing over the sun. The hurt in his eyes cut through you like a punch, but you couldn’t bring yourself to dwell on it.
STOP STOP STOP
You hated the fact you could pinpoint the sincerity in his voice so easily. It nearly killed you.
LET HIM IN PLS 🛐🛐
“It was a mistake.”
i’m actually holding my breath pls gigi let me breathe 😭😭😭
Rafe could act cold and stoic all he wanted; you could hear the hurt in his voice and sense the sadness in the words. He sounded broken.
"You're angry,” Your mouth ran dry, your heart lurching into your throat. "I’m sorry.”
"Sorry?" he seethed, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine, "Angry? You think you mean enough to me to make me angry?"
SHUT UP RAFE
“Stop it,” Your voice broke a little, fighting the waterworks that were threatening to run down your cheeks, “Stop making it sound like it meant nothing to you.”
no bc i would lose it in that room (absolutely go kill bill or disney princess cry idk yet)
“And whose fault is that? Hmm? You said you didn’t want to stop. You wanted it, you wanted me.”
You staggered back, feeling as if the ground beneath your feet was shifting, uncertain, and unsteady.
"I wanted it," Rafe repeated, fingers digging into his chest, his voice raw with emotion, "I wanted you."
the way my stomach rolled oh my god u r incredible at creating emotions
The anger that had driven him was gone, replaced by a hollow, almost haunted look
love the description of haunted had to take a sec to think what that is
He finally looked at you, his eyes bloodshot and filled with a mix of pain and regret. “I... I couldn’t stay away,” he slurred, his words thick with the effects of too much alcohol. “I tried, but...”
RAFE MY ANNOYINGLY POOR BABY
“It’s not, Maybank. I’ve done enough damage for a lifetime. It’s the reason why you’re sleeping on the other side of the bed instead of right next to me.”
actually stop hurting me pls and thank u
It took you hours to fall asleep. You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the events of the past weeks replaying in your mind. You thought of Rafe, of the hurt in his eyes, the way he had looked at you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
THE ONLY THING KEEPING HIM TETHERED TO REALITY STFU UP
Rafe’s gaze flicked to you as if he was memorizing your features, from your eyes down to your lips. You could see the gears turning inside his brain and it made you sick to your stomach when he took a deep breath, his eyes hardening with resolve, “Run.”
STOP MY HEART IS RACING 🫨
Without thinking, you ran to Rafe, your heart pounding with fear and relief. His arms wrapped around you tightly, and gently pulled you back, his eyes searching yours to make sure you were okay, but before you could assure him you were fine, he kissed you. His lips pressed firmly against yours, and you felt his tongue gently parting your lips, exploring with a tenderness that made your knees weak. It felt so…real, it nearly brought you to your knees. As cheesy as it sounded, it felt like time stood still for you, the rest of the world ceasing to exist.
ITS LIKE A CRIMINAL LOVE STORY PLS 😭
“Baby, you—“ he coughed, blood seeping through his teeth, "You gotta go home.”
STOP STOP STOP STOP
“I’m not leaving without him,” You made the mistake to glance back one last time, your heart breaking as you saw Rafe's eyes close, his body slumping against the ground, “No, no, no! Keep your eyes open, I swear to god—” Your hands trembled as you tried to staunch the flow of blood with your already stained clothing, "Stay with me," you pleaded, your voice cracking.
i’m actually gonna kill u gigi u have no idea
As you were led out of the police station and into a waiting car, your mind raced with thoughts of him, lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life, by himself. You couldn't bear the thought of him waking up alone, without knowing that you were there for him.
If he ever woke up.
for once in ur life i need u to be crazy and jump the car
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FINAL THOUGHTS | omg. OHMYGOD??? okay one thing i absolutely love about this chapter is your emotional development and connection. the way that reader had to pull back because of her nightmare, because of what it means to be with rafe in the real world, the way she withdraws from him and it hurts him until they get to that argument. and that ARGUMENT; rafe being vulnerable while also pushing back, while also being sharp and anger? that PIERCED MY SOUL because u did it so well i actually held my breath and stopped breathing and just stared at how well u managed to capture emotional moments without exaggerating it. then then, him looking at her face trying to memorize her features before telling her to run? to kissing her because he couldn’t stand it anymore? screaming. AND THEN HE GOT FUCKING SHOT?? i saw spoilers that he got shot but i was so wrapped in the story i FORGOT 😭 it literally took me out 😭😭😭 I NEED HER TO JUMP OUT THE COP CAR OR SOMETHING PLS STAY WITH HIM 😭
THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - four
request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"
warnings: angst; gun violence; blood;
word count: 7.1k
You woke up confused staring at the oddly familiar ceiling, filled with posters ripped from the old magazines you’d gotten at a second-hand store. When you were sixteen is sounded like a great edgy idea.
You were home.
What the—? How?
Sitting up, the room felt stifling, the air thick with the stale smell of old wood and the faintest hint of your father’s cigarette smoke, a scent you had hoped never to encounter again. The heavy feeling in your chest wasn’t just the dread of being back; it was the oppressive memories flooding back, threatening to drown you.
The sound of a muffled argument seeped through the thin walls, pulling you back to the present.
Your heart pounded in your ears as you recognized the angry, slurred voice of your father.
He was shouting at someone, probably your brother, just like he used to. The familiar clinking of bottles and the crash of something being thrown sent a shiver down your spine.
No. This wasn't real. This couldn’t be real.
You swung your legs over the side of the bed, feeling the rough carpet under your feet, grounding yourself in the moment. You stood up shakily, each step toward the door feeling heavier than the last. The hallway stretched out before you, longer than it should have been, and the flickering light cast eerie shadows on the peeling wallpaper.
As you approached the living room, the noise grew louder, more distinct. Your father’s voice, filled with venom and rage, cut through you like a knife. You reached the doorway and peered in, your breath catching in your throat. There he was, towering over your JJ, his face twisted in anger. Your little brother was cowering, trying to make himself as small as possible, his eyes filled with fear. The scene was a haunting echo of so many nights you’d tried to forget.
“No,” you whispered, fear and anger bubbling up inside you. “This isn’t happening.”
But it was.
Your father, with his disheveled hair and red-rimmed eyes, swung the bottle in his hand dangerously close to JJ’s head. Each wave of the bottle sent droplets of amber liquid flying, dotting the floor like gruesome confetti. JJ flinched with every movement, tears streaming down his cheeks, and the sight made your heart ache.
“Get out of my sight, you worthless—” your father roared, his voice a terrifying growl.
“No!” you screamed, stepping into the room before you even realized you were moving. “Stop it!”
Your father turned, his bloodshot eyes narrowing as they focused on you. For a moment, there was a flicker of confusion, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were standing there.
Then, recognition set in, and his scowl deepened.
“You,” he spat, the word laced with bitterness. “You think you can just walk back in here and tell me what to do?”
The room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in, suffocating. But you couldn’t back down, not now. Not ever again.
“Leave him alone,” you said, your voice trembling, “He’s a child!”
Your father took a menacing step toward you, the bottle still clutched in his hand. “You’ve got some nerve, coming back here and talking to me like that. Looking exactly like her!”
Every instinct screamed at you to run, but you stood your ground. “I’m not afraid of you Luke,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes flashed with anger, and he raised the bottle, ready to strike. You braced yourself, every muscle tensed, waiting for the blow.
“Dad, please!” JJ’s voice broke through the tension, small and desperate.
“Don’t hurt her.”
The plea hung in the air, a fragile thread that seemed to hold back the storm for just a moment. Your father’s hand wavered, his eyes darting between you and JJ.
Then, with a roar of frustration, he threw the bottle against the wall, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. The crash echoed through the house, a final, violent punctuation to the nightmare unfolding around you.
“You’re a coward, you know that? Hitting on your own children. You’re trash.” you spat out, the words flying from your mouth before you could stop them.
His face twisted, “What did you say to me?” He lunged at you, his hands going straight for your throat. Fear surged through you as his fingers tightened, cutting off your air supply. Your hands flew up to try and pry his grip loose, but he was too strong, too relentless, too driven.
Black spots began to dance at the edges of your vision. You struggled, gasping for breath, but his grip only tightened. The room started to spin, and just as you thought you might pass out, his face began to shift, blurring and changing. You blinked, trying to clear your vision, and when you opened your eyes again, it was no longer your father choking you.
It was Rafe.
Rafe's face, with a sickening grin, loomed over you. His eyes, filled with a cold, calculating malice, bore into yours. “You thought I’d be any different?” he sneered. “You signed your death sentence, pogue.”
The terror was overwhelming, a wave of cold dread washing over you.
Your heart pounded frantically against your ribs, but you couldn’t scream, couldn’t call for help. His grip was like iron, unyielding and merciless.
You fought against him with all your strength, but it felt like trying to move through quicksand. Every movement was sluggish, every attempt to break free met with resistance. The walls around you seemed to close in, the room becoming a claustrophobic prison.
As the edges of your vision began to fade, a new sound cut through the suffocating haze – JJ’s voice, calling your name. “Sis! Please, wake up! Wake up!”
With a final, desperate burst of energy, you tore yourself away from Rafe, his grip suddenly gone. You were falling, tumbling through darkness, and then–
You jolted awake, gasping for breath, your body drenched in sweat. The familiar ceiling of the motel room came into focus. The terror of the nightmare clung to you, and it made it hard to breathe.
Your hands went to your throat, feeling for bruises that weren’t there. It was just a dream, you told yourself, trying to calm your racing heart. Just a nightmare.
As your breath began to steady, you turned your head, feeling the sheets rustle against your skin.
The dim light of the room cast long shadows, and your heart sank when you saw Rafe lying next to you, his chest rising and falling in a deep, peaceful slumber. He was naked, his body partially covered by the sheets, a stark reminder of what you’d done hours ago.
You felt a surge of nausea, your stomach churning with revulsion of yourself. The nightmare still clung to you, the vivid memories of his hands around your throat making it hard to reconcile the image of him sleeping so peacefully. You quietly slipped out of bed, trying not to wake him, and grabbed your clothes, dressing quickly.
Standing in the small bathroom, you splashed cold water on your face, trying to wash away the remnants of the dream. The coolness against your skin brought a brief sense of clarity, but it didn’t banish the lingering sense of dread. You looked at yourself in the mirror, your reflection pale and haunted.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You had to get out of here, clear your head, and figure out what to do next. Slipping out of the bathroom, you grabbed your keys from the nightstand, sneaking one last look at Rafe. He was still asleep, completely unaware of the fear inside you.
The motel hallway was dark and quiet, with the faint hum of the vending machine being the only noise. You made your way to the exit, and the cool night air hit you like a splash of reality. It felt like you were stepping out of one world and into another, the contrast so stark and jarring.
You took a few more steps, but your vision blurred, and you felt lightheaded. You slumped against the wall, struggling to catch your breath.
The panic attack hit you full force, your chest tightening, and your mind racing. You couldn't let Rafe see you like this. You couldn't let anyone see you like this. You sank to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest, trying to focus on something, anything, to calm yourself down. You started counting your breaths, focusing on each inhale and exhale, trying to slow your racing heart. You thought of JJ, of how much he needed you to be strong. You couldn't fall apart now, not when there was so much at stake.
You kept counting, kept breathing, the cool air helping to clear your head. Slowly, the tightness in your chest began to ease. The world started to come back into focus, the shadows in the hallway retreating.
You wiped away the tears that had slipped down your cheeks and stood up, feeling a little more in control.
Sleeping around—no, not just sleeping, practically baring your soul to one of the people that had destroyed your life? That had taunted and beaten your brother? Your friends? That killed a cop and got away with it? The thoughts circled in your mind, relentless and unforgiving. The cool night air was a temporary relief, but it couldn’t wash away the shame eating you alive. How did it come to this? How did you go from hating Rafe to being tangled up with him like this?
You thought of JJ, of your friends, the people who had been there for you through everything. They’d never understand.
Hell, you didn’t even understand it yourself. You stopped and leaned against a lamppost, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. You had to sort through this mess, had to figure out what was real and what was just the lingering effects of captivity and longing. Maybe you were holding on to the only person who managed to pull you out of Ward’s grasp, fooling yourself into finding some good in someone who had caused so much pain.
An hour later, you made your way back to the motel. Each step felt like a struggle, the guilt and self-doubt threatening to consume you entirely. You couldn't shake the feeling that you'd betrayed everything you stood for by letting Rafe into your life, even if it was just for a moment of weakness.
As you approached the entrance, you saw him standing at the front desk, looking worried and disheveled. He must have just woken up, throwing on some shorts in a hurry. His expression was tense as he spoke to the front desk guy, hands moving rapidly, gesturing around.
Your pulse pounded as you walked in, not sure of what to say, what to do, how to approach him. The memory of the nightmare still lingered, haunting you like a specter refusing to be exorcised.
Rafe's voice cut through the air, his tone urgent, "How the fuck did you not see her leave? Did someone take her?”
The front desk guy shook his head, his expression apologetic. "I apologize sir, but I haven't seen anyone come through here."
With a deep breath, you stepped forward, revealing yourself to him. "I'm here," you said quietly, voice rough from not speaking since you woke up.
Rafe's head snapped up, his blue eyes widening in relief as he caught sight of you. "Thank God," he breathed, his shoulders visibly relaxing, “Fucking hell, Maybank.”
His arms were around you in an instant, his warmth enveloping you. His hands rested gently on your back; fingers splayed wide. For a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into his embrace for the last time, the tension in your shoulders easing ever so slightly. Barely looking at him, you pushed him away, your movements sharp. His hands fell away from you, confusion flickering across his features like a shadow passing over the sun. The hurt in his eyes cut through you like a punch, but you couldn’t bring yourself to dwell on it.
You took a step back, putting some distance between you and Rafe, needing the space to breathe, to think, to figure out what comes next.
Your gaze flickered to the floor, unable to meet his eyes, unable to face the consequences of your actions, "Just needed some air," you muttered, your voice barely audible even to yourself, “Sorry for not leaving a note.”
Rafe's expression shifted from relief to concern as he watched you, his brows furrowing with worry.
"You okay?"
You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, "I'm fine," you replied, your voice lacking conviction even to your own ears. "Just felt a little nauseous.”
His hand reached out tentatively as if he wanted to comfort you, but he hesitated, letting it fall back to his side. “I just woke up and you were gone, and I...I panicked."
You hated the fact you could pinpoint the sincerity in his voice so easily. It nearly killed you.
“We should go back.”
"Will you... will you be okay?" he asked, his voice hesitant.
You nodded, trying to muster up a reassuring smile, but it felt hollow and insincere. "I'll be fine," you lied, the words tasted bitter on your tongue, “Just need some rest.”
“Okay. Okay, yeah, let’s go back.”
As you stepped inside the room, the early sunlight washed over Rafe's face, highlighting the worry etched into his features. He watched you carefully, as if afraid you would’ve disappeared again at any moment. He tried to reach out and grab your arm, but you moved too quickly, and he was left grasping air.
You offered him a weak smile, ignoring the look on his face, "I'm sorry for leaving like that," you said, your voice tinged with genuine regret. "I’m fine.”
You didn’t think he believed you. He was watching you so closely. He took in how disheveled you looked. The mess of your hair, and barely laced-up shoes so you could get out the door faster. Rafe’s eyes pierce into your own, searching them for something as he took a deep breath to calm himself.
It took several tense moments before he finally spoke, “Is this about last night?”
Your body froze, panic taking over every single one of your muscles. What were you supposed to tell him? Lie? Tell him the truth and make him hate himself even more? Keep your pain down to hold his?
“It was a mistake.”
You went straight to the chase.
He stalked closer to you, and you took a step back reflexively, “A mistake?” he echoed between labored breaths, “A mistake?”
“Yeah," you stammered, trying to articulate your thoughts, "It's not right. We, we're just lonely."
You despised yourself for even hinting at it, but the tumultuous month spent with him had been bewildering, to say the least. You questioned whether you were truly good for each other.
"I thought..." he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.
The pain in his voice pierced your skin, a reminder of the consequences of your actions. But you needed to put yourself first.
“I’m sorry.”
Rafe's face contorted, his features tightening into a mask of disbelief. And you couldn’t blame him for whatever he was about to unleash on you.
“So, what? You're just gonna walk away?" He tried to bark, but his voice quivered from grief, “Stop looking at me?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” He scoffed, lips twisting into a sneer, as he started to pace around the room, his movements restless and agitated. “That’s funny.”
Rafe could act cold and stoic all he wanted; you could hear the hurt in your voice and sense the sadness in the words. He sounded broken.
"You're angry,” Your mouth ran dry, your heart lurching into your throat. "I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” he seethed, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine, “Angry? You think you mean enough to me to make me angry?”
His words struck you like a physical blow, a slap to the face. You recoiled instinctively, the weight of his fury bearing down on you.
"I don't know what I mean to you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I just know that I can't keep doing this."
Rafe's laughter was bitter and mocking, a harsh sound that echoed off the walls of the room.
"Can't keep doing this?" he repeated, his voice laced with derision. "And what, exactly, is 'this'? Fucking? You can’t even say it.”
“You’re being an asshole.”
"An asshole?" he spat, "Is that what you think of me?"
You held his gaze, refusing to back down despite the hurting coursing through your veins. "You're acting like one.”
“Maybank,” His voice was still harsh as he lowered his head to try and meet your eyes. He was close enough that you were able to smell him, "You don't know anything about me, remember? Maybe the fucking really did confuse you.”
“Stop it,” Your voice broke a little, fighting the waterworks that were threatening to run down your cheeks, “Stop making it sound like it meant nothing to you.”
His eyes shut tightly, “Why are you doing this?”
“Because it’s wrong! Rafe—don’t you see it? I can’t do this, not with you of all fucking people, okay?”
He looked down at the carpet, a look of shame falling over his features as he ran a hand over his face, “You knew who I was since the beginning.”
You felt a surge of frustration rising within you, mingling with the anguish that threatened to overwhelm your senses. "Yeah, and every time I look at you now, I see everything that's wrong with me."
“And whose fault is that? Hmm? You said you didn’t want to stop. You wanted it, you wanted me.”
You staggered back, feeling as if the ground beneath your feet was shifting, uncertain, and unsteady.
"I wanted it," Rafe repeated, fingers digging into his chest, his voice raw with emotion, "I wanted you."
The admission hung in the air between you, everything left unsaid. You wanted to reach out to him, hug him as you had just hours ago, but you knew you couldn’t.
“We can’t.”
His eyes were slightly dewy, a somewhat defeated look to his gaze as he walked towards the door.
“Well, congrats Maybank. You won.”
The sound of the door slamming echoed through the room, the finality of it hitting you like a punch to the gut. You stood there, motionless, as the silence enveloped you. The weight of everything that had just transpired pressed down on your shoulders, threatening to crush you.
You sank to the floor, your back against the wall, and the tears came in a torrent. Sobs wracked your body, each one more painful than the last, as the reality of your situation washed over you. You had pushed him away, and hurt him, but what other choice did you have?
The quiet was almost eerie.
You couldn't deny that you had felt something for Rafe, something more than just anger and resentment.
But it was twisted, born out of shared trauma and desperation, wasn’t it? Wiping your tear-streaked face with trembling hands, you tried to gather yourself. You still needed to get home. In five days. How the fuck were you going to live in the same room with Rafe for five days after what went down? You couldn’t, you needed the money to pay off the men taking you back home.
You sat on the motel room floor for what felt like hours, the silence pressing in on you.
The weight of your words, of the confrontation, was suffocating. Eventually, exhaustion won out, and you crawled into bed, your mind too restless to allow for more than fitful dozing.
It was around 4 a.m. when the door to the motel room creaked open, startling you awake. You sat up, your heart pounding, straining to see in the dark. The figure that stumbled through the door was unmistakable: Rafe. His movements were unsteady, his clothes disheveled, and the sharp scent of alcohol hit you even from across the room.
“Rafe?”
He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned heavily against the doorframe, his eyes unfocused. He looked lost.
The anger that had driven him was gone, replaced by a hollow, almost haunted look. You had done that to him. You got out of bed, approaching him cautiously.
“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice tinged with worry.
He finally looked at you, his eyes bloodshot and filled with a mix of pain and regret. “I... I couldn’t stay away,” he slurred, his words thick with the effects of too much alcohol. “I tried, but...”
You sighed, the concern battling within you.
“Rafe, you’re drunk. You need to sit down.”
He let you guide him to the bed, his body heavy and uncooperative. Once he was seated, you grabbed a bottle of water from the small table and handed it to him.
“Drink this,” you instructed.
He took a sip, his hands shaking slightly. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, staring down at the floor. “For everything.”
It was the first time he ever apologized to you. You didn’t know what to say. Part of you wanted to comfort him, to tell him it was okay, but another part of you was still reeling from the emotional whirlwind of the past few days.
“You need to sleep this off,” you said instead, trying to keep your voice steady.
He nodded but didn’t move. Instead, he reached out, his hand brushing against yours. “I don’t want to be like him,” he confessed, “I can't."
If you allowed him to keep sputtering out his drunken thoughts you would’ve ended up crying your eyes out again, so instead you squeezed his hand, “Let’s just sleep, okay?”
He nodded again, his eyes drifting shut as the exhaustion and alcohol finally took their toll. You helped him lie down, covering him with the sheets. As you laid back down, you watched Rafe’s breathing even out, his face softening in sleep.
The next few days passed in a blur of tension and silence. That night?
It never happened.
Rafe didn’t spare you a glance from the moment he woke up, choosing to care for his hangover by himself. You and he moved around each other like ghosts, the motel room becoming a prison. You barely slept, the nightmares coming back with a vengeance, leaving you exhausted and on edge.
Every time you closed your eyes, you saw your father, Rafe, or the haunting echoes of your past, blending into a relentless cycle of fear and regret. You knew he’d been having nightmares as well, but you pretended to be asleep every time he woke up, chest heaving.
He seemed so caught in his torment. You could see it in the way he clenched his jaw, the way his hands would flex into fists and then relax as if he was battling some inner demon. He avoided you, constantly, and when he did speak, his words were clipped and distant. Your shared meals were silent, the clinking of cutlery the only sound breaking the oppressive quiet.
Even the TV stayed off.
On the fifth night, you lay awake in the dark, listening to the rhythm of Rafe's breathing from the other bed. It was uneven, indicating he was also awake.
“You’re not gonna end up like him.”
Rafe's breathing hitched, and you could almost feel his eyes on you through the darkness.
"I mean it," you continued, turning slightly to face his silhouette. "You're not your father, Rafe."
He didn't respond immediately, but you sensed a shift in the atmosphere, a subtle change in his posture. Finally, he sighed, the sound heavy and laden with years of unspoken fears and insecurities.
"How can you be so sure?" he murmured, his voice raw.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Because I've seen you. I've seen the parts of you that fight against becoming him. The parts that want to be better. And that matters."
He let out a bitter laugh. "I'm not sure it’s enough.”
“It is.”
“It’s not, Maybank. I’ve done enough damage for a lifetime. It’s the reason why you’re sleeping on the other side of the bed instead of right next to me.”
You wanted to reach out, to reassure him that he wasn’t alone, but you knew it wasn’t that simple.
“I’m still here,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m not leaving.”
“You already did.”
Ouch.
Before you could utter a single word, he turned his back to you.
“We’re leaving tomorrow. Sleep.”
“Rafe—”
“Goodnight.”
It took you hours to fall asleep. You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the events of the past weeks replaying in your mind. You thought of Rafe, of the hurt in his eyes, the way he had looked at you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
The next morning, you didn’t bother much with packing, only shoving the pieces of clothing you’d collected in a backpack. It felt torturous, to be so close to Rafe yet so far away. He didn’t speak a word as he packed his things, his movements stiff and mechanical. You wanted to break the silence, but every time you opened your mouth, the words seemed to stick in your throat. The taxi drive to the port was just as unbearable. You stared out the window, watching the landscape blur past, your mind racing with thoughts of what could have been, what should have been.
Once you arrived, you and Rafe stepped out, the silence between you as impenetrable as ever. The boat that would take you both back home loomed ahead. He took the lead, heading towards the ticket booth with his shoulders hunched, and you followed, your steps heavy with reluctance.
You were still scared shitless of those men. They were only helping you because at some point Rafe had helped them smuggle drugs into the States, and that did not leave you the least bit reassured over their intentions.
Finding a spot on the deck, you both settled into a tense silence, the hum of the boat’s engine and the cries of seagulls filling the void between you. The sun was beginning to rise, casting a golden hue over the water, but the beauty of the scene did little to ease the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest.
He leaned against the railing, his gaze fixed on the horizon, his face a mask void of any emotion.
You watched him for a moment, torn between wanting to reach out to him and the fear that doing so would only make things worse.
Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, you cleared your throat. “Rafe,” you began hesitantly, “I—”
Before you could finish, he turned to you, his expression weary. “We don’t have to talk about it,” he said, his voice flat. “Not now.”
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Okay.”
“Just stay low, stay quiet. My dad got eyes everywhere.”
From the corner of your eye you spotted one of the men. Tall, burly, with a scar running down his cheek. He simply nodded towards the cargo boat and for a minute you’re taken back to your first day stuck with the Cameron’s, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong.
Rafe walked in front of you again, entering the ship, rounding his way through the halls behind the sketchy guy, only stopping when he knocked on a door, after a moment, it swung open to reveal a bald shot man, eyes way too big for his face, which flicked over you and Rafe, a predatory smile curling his lips.
“Well, well, look who decided to show up,” he drawled, his voice laced with mockery. “You’re late.”
“Had some complications,” Rafe replied curtly, his posture tense.
The man’s smile widened. “Complications, huh? Well, come on in”
You followed Rafe inside, your heart racing. The interior of the room was pretty dark, the air thick with the smell of smoke and something you couldn’t quite identify. Nor did you want to.
“Rafe,” the older man said, his voice cold and commanding. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten about our arrangement.”
“Never,” Rafe replied, his tone clipped. “I brought the money.”
He handed over a thick envelope, and the man behind the desk took it, flipping through the bills with a practiced eye. After a moment, he nodded, satisfied.
“Good,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Now, let’s discuss the other part of our deal.”
Rafe stiffened. “I told you, I’m out. I’m not running anything for you anymore.”
The man’s eyes narrowed, his smile turning dangerous. “I don’t think you understand. You don’t get to just walk away.”
You felt a chill run down your spine as the tension in the room escalated. The man behind the desk stood up, his gaze shifting to you.
“And who’s this?” he asked, his tone menacing.
“No one,” Rafe said quickly. “She has nothing to do with this.”
The man chuckled, a low, sinister sound. “Oh, I think she has everything to do with this.”
He took a step towards you, and instinctively, you backed away, your heart pounding in your chest. Rafe moved to place himself between you and the older man, his jaw clenched.
“Leave her out of this.”
“You see, your daddy dearest called in last night. Told me about a loose piece he had to get rid off…a pretty one. Guess this is her?”
"That's none of your business," Rafe growled, his voice filled with a warning, body still shielding yours.
The older man laughed, the sound grating against your nerves. "Oh, but it is my business, Rafe. You see, your daddy and I, we go way back. And when he asks for a favor, I don't say no."
You felt a surge of terror at his words, your mind racing to find a way out of this situation. "Rafe, we need to go," you whispered urgently, tugging on his arm.
He didn't move, his eyes locked on the man before him. "We're leaving," Rafe said firmly, his voice unwavering. "Now."
The man smirked, his gaze shifting between you and Rafe. "You think you can just walk out of here? You're in deep, Cameron. And now, so is she."
Rafe's jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists. "We're not doing this.”
The older man took a step closer, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent.
"You have two choices, Rafe. You either do as I say, or she pays the price like Ward asked.”
Your heart pounded in your chest, fear coursing through your veins. You couldn't let Rafe get pulled back into this world, but you also couldn't bear the thought of what might happen if you stayed.
"Rafe, please," you pleaded, your voice trembling.
Rafe’s gaze flicked to you as if he was memorizing your features, from your eyes down to your lips. You could see the gears turning inside his brain and it made you sick to your stomach when he took a deep breath, his eyes hardening with resolve, “Run.”
Before you could process his words, Rafe launched himself at the older man, tackling him to the ground. The suddenness of the movement caught everyone off guard, but you knew you had to act quickly. Heart pounding, you turned and bolted out of the room, dropping your backpack in the process, your footsteps echoing down the dimly lit corridor.
Behind you, you could hear the sounds of struggle—grunts, crashes, and the thud of bodies hitting the floor. You didn’t dare look back, knowing that every second counted. Rafe had told you to run.
The ship's layout was confusing, with identical-looking hallways and doors leading to who-knew-where. You sprinted through the maze of metal and dim lights, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The distant sound of shouting and commotion indicated that the fight was far from over. You turned a corner and collided with one of the burly men from earlier. He grabbed your arm, his grip like a vise.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he snarled.
Panic surged through you, but you fought it down, remembering the self-defense moves Rafe had taught you back at Ward’s island. You stomped on his foot and jabbed your elbow into his ribs, wrenching your arm free as he grunted in pain. Without wasting a second, you continued running, your legs burning with effort.
You burst onto the deck, the cold, salty air hitting you like a slap. The early morning light was just beginning to brighten the horizon, casting long shadows across the deck. You looked around frantically, searching for any means of escape. Your eyes landed on a lifeboat secured to the side of the ship. Without hesitation, you made your way towards it, fumbling with the ropes that held it in place. Your fingers were shaking, but you managed to free the boat. As you were about to lower it into the water, a rough hand grabbed your shoulder and spun you around. It was the man with the scar, his face twisted in anger.
“Going somewhere?” he sneered.
You tried to fight him off, but he was too strong.
Just when you thought all hope was lost, a loud bang echoed across the deck. The man with the scar froze, his grip loosening. You took the opportunity to break free, scrambling away from him.
Rafe stood at the entrance to the deck, a gun in his hand and determination in his eyes. The man with the scar raised his hands slowly, backing away.
“You okay?” Rafe asked, his voice tight with concern.
“I think so.”
“Come here.”
Without thinking, you ran to Rafe, your heart pounding with fear and relief. His arms wrapped around you tightly, and gently pulled you back, his eyes searching yours to make sure you were okay, but before you could assure him you were fine, he kissed you. His lips pressed firmly against yours, and you felt his tongue gently parting your lips, exploring with a tenderness that made your knees weak. It felt so…real, it nearly brought you to your knees. As cheesy as it sounded, it felt like time stood still for you, the rest of the world ceasing to exist.
Until reality broke you again.
Rafe's body tensed suddenly. You heard a muffled sound, like a distant pop, but it took a moment for your mind to register what had happened. His grip on you loosened, and he staggered, his breath hitching in pain.
No, no, no, no.
"Rafe?” You caught him as he fell to his knees, eyes darting around, searching for the source of the shot. Your eyes nearly popped out of your head as you watched a showdown between the so-called human traffickers and the fucking police. This had to be a fucking nightmare, no way, were you getting caught in a crossfire.
Rafe clutched his side, blood seeping through his fingers, staining his white shirt. His face was scarily pale, and he struggled to stay upright.
"You need to...get out of here," he managed to say, his voice strained, “Right now.”
“I’m not leaving you, you fuckin—Shit, Rafe. Fuck!” You looked around frantically, your heart pounding in your chest. The island, which had seemed like a safe haven moments ago, now felt like a trap. "Can you walk?" you asked, trying to keep the panic from your voice.
“Does it look like I can walk, pretty Maybank?”
A sob broke through you, “Don’t try to be fucking funny, you got shot!”
“Baby, you—“ he coughed, blood seeping through his teeth, "You gotta go home.”
"Stop talking!" you repeated, your voice trembling with desperation. You looked around again, trying to find a way out, a way to save him, anything. But the chaos around you was overwhelming. The police and the traffickers were engaged in a fierce shootout, bullets whizzing through the air, ricocheting off metal, and splintering wood.
Rafe's hand tightened weakly around yours.
"Listen to me," he said, his voice just a whisper. "You have to...Go gome."
Tears streamed down your face as you shook your head. "I can't leave you here."
You knew you had to move, had to find help, but leaving him there felt like tearing your heart out. As you turned to peek around one final time, you heard a shout from behind you. "Freeze!" a police officer yelled, his gun trained on you.
You stopped, your hands raised, your mind racing. "Please, help him," you begged, pointing to Rafe. "He's been shot."
The officer's eyes flicked to Rafe, then back to you. "We need to secure the area first," he said, his tone firm but not unkind.
"Please," you repeated, your voice breaking. "He's dying."
The officer hesitated, then spoke into his radio. "Officer down, need medical assistance immediately."
Another officer approached, his gun drawn, and you saw his gaze soften as he took in Rafe's condition. "We'll get him help," he assured you, "but we need to get you out of here safely."
“I’m not leaving without him,” You made the mistake to glance back one last time, your heart breaking as you saw Rafe's eyes close, his body slumping against the ground, “No, no, no! Keep your eyes open, I swear to god—” Your hands trembled as you tried to staunch the flow of blood with your already stained clothing, "Stay with me," you pleaded, your voice cracking.
His eyes fluttered open briefly, a weak smile touching his lips.
"You... have to... go," he whispered, his breath coming in shallow gasps, "Go."
Before you could respond, you felt strong hands grip your shoulders, pulling you back. "We need to get you to safety," one of the officers said firmly, trying to drag you away from Rafe.
"No! Let me go! I can't leave him!" you screamed, fighting against their hold.
"Ma'am, we need to get you out of the line of fire," the officer insisted, his grip tightening as he pulled you to your feet.
Through your tears, you saw more officers surrounding Rafe, their voices urgent as they called for medical assistance. You watched helplessly as they began to administer first aid, their movements efficient but hurried. As the officers dragged you away against your will, your eyes never left Rafe.
You struggled against their hold, but their grip was unyielding. "Please, don't let him die," you sobbed, your voice breaking with despair.
"We're doing everything we can," one of the officers reassured you, guiding you towards the edge of the deck where a police boat was waiting.
You stumbled, your legs weak with fear and exhaustion, but the officers held you steady. As you were helped onto the police boat, you turned back one last time, your heart breaking at the sight of Rafe lying on the deck, surrounded by officers and paramedics. You clutched the railing, your knuckles white, as the boat pulled away from the ship, the distance between you and Rafe growing with each passing second.
The journey back to shore was a blur of sirens, flashing lights, and the distant sound of helicopter blades cutting through the air. The police officers tried to reassure you, but their words were lost in the whirlwind of your thoughts.
When the boat finally docked, you were met by a flurry of activity. Paramedics rushed forward, checking you for injuries, while police officers asked you questions about what had happened. You answered them mechanically, your mind still focused on Rafe, praying that he would survive. Hours seemed to pass in a haze of questions, medical checks, and statements. You told them everything. Finally, you were allowed to sit down, your body heavy with exhaustion. A police officer approached you, his expression kind but serious.
"Rafe Cameron is being taken to the hospital," he said gently. "He's in critical condition, but the paramedics are doing everything they can."
You nodded numbly, the weight of his words pressing down on you. "Can I see him?"
“’No visitors will be allowed, kid. We checked your backgrounds. If he survives, he’ll be taken into custody, his father is Ward Cameron, the feds are going to need him.”
You nearly threw up at how easily he said, “if he survives”. There couldn’t be no fucking ifs, he wasn’t dying. Not like this. Not after everything.
Your knees buckled, and you had to sit down, the reality of the situation pressing down on you like a ton of bricks. The officer helped you to a bench, his face sympathetic but firm. “I understand this is hard, but we need to follow protocol. He’s a key witness and suspect in multiple ongoing investigations.”
You nodded, your mind barely processing his words. The world felt distant, and surreal. “Can I at least know which hospital?”
The officer hesitated for a moment, then relented. “St. Michael’s. But you won’t be allowed to call until we clear things with the authorities.”
“Call? I want to visit.”
He sighed, taking a seat next to you, “Kid. I’m really sorry, but you won’t be here. You’re a kidnapping victim and there’s a direct order to take you back home, you’ve been reported missing for over a month now.”
Your mind reeled, struggling to process the officer's words. Missing? For over a month? It felt like a lifetime and no time at all had passed since you'd been caught up in this nightmare.
"I can't leave him," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Not like this."
The officer's expression softened. "I understand, but this is out of my hands. We need to get you back to your family. They'll be worried sick."
What family?
You wanted to shout in his face. JJ was still missing for all you knew and Luke hadn't stepped foot home in months. You felt a surge of helplessness.
“I can't just leave him."
The officer looked taken aback but remained resolute. "We're going to get you home safely. You'll be able to follow up on Rafe's condition, but right now, you need to come with us."
The officer stood up, motioning for you to follow. Reluctantly, you got to your feet, every step feeling like a betrayal to Rafe.
As you were led out of the police station and into a waiting car, your mind raced with thoughts of him , lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life, by himself. You couldn't bear the thought of him waking up alone, without knowing that you were there for him.
If he ever woke up.
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hello omg a fellow carat???? i totally get you, minghao is insane. have you seen him on hot? like bruh everyone is freaking out rn.
hello??? a carat anon?? ahgsjajsjsnw
i wouldn't call myself as a carat but! i do know all thirteen of them since debut. and hao has been my bias since mansae (i think).
yes, i've seen him on hot, and yes, i'm typing this from my grave..
#🍁.msg#sender: anonymous#i see that you also have a god-tier taste in music#okay but hao—the shirt? the hair? the contacts? as someone who likes him bcs of his soft image he really went the opposite direction on me#like sir yes i miss your red hair but ohmygod calm down pls
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I’d like to request a Xiao/Kazuha (separate or one is fine) hcs or fic with a insecure reader if that’s alright. Lately I’ve been having insecurities especially with how a lot of beauty standards are and how they’re making me feel. Feel free to ignore this if you want, take care of yourself though! ^^
⇨ Elysian
Elysian : (adj). beautiful or creative; divinely inspired; peaceful and perfect.
includes: xiao, kazuha x gn!reader genre: soft fluff ♡
XIAO holds your cheek, hand warming your cold cheek with his feather touch. A small smile touches his lips as he looks at you, eyes locking together. His eyes reflected the hue of a sombre flame, while yours embodied the universe- his universe. They both reflected each other; an enrapturing constellation.
"Nothing is wrong with you," his voice whispers, drinking in your beloved features, bathed in the mellow glow of the moon.
His other hand reaches to trace away your burning tears before sliding under your jaw. It hurts to see you like this; each imperfection and flaw that builds you into something utterly unique and captivating, instead tearing you down into a chaotic mess of insecurity.
"This," he plants a soft kiss on your cheek.
"This," another kiss, on your shoulder.
"This," he continues, peppering butterfly kisses all over you, a faint laugh slipping from your lips. "It's all beautiful."
A rebuttal is at the tip of your tongue, denying his words. After all, it's all an illusion of love, right? Does he truly mean that? Is he lying for your benefit?
"But Xiao," before you could manage to say anything more, he shuts you up with his lips against yours.
Your mind fuzzes, forgetting whatever you were gonna say. His lips move softly against yours, reassuring and delicate. His hand weaves carefully through your hair, the other lifting your chin.
"I wouldn't change a single thing about you. You're enough." He murmurs against your lips before pulling away, his cheeks dusted with deep champagne pink. "Now let's go before you catch a cold."
KAZUHA's pinkie intertwined with yours; a phantom of a grin kissing the corners of his lips. Everything is silent, save for the crunch of leaves under the soles of your feet and the occasional flutter of chilly wind.
Kazuha pauses momentarily, picking a fallen flower from the bed of grass. With a flash of a smile, he tucks it behind your ear before marvelling at how cute you look with it.
"You look... ethereal," Kazuha breathes, warmth spreading from his neck to his ears. He cherishes the sheer image you behold in his eyes; butterflies fluttering through his ribcage, heart beating faster by the moment.
Your hand circles around your frame self-consciously; a flush of red from embarrassment heating your cheeks. Your skin feels disgusting against you, a cold and ugly feeling making your eyes avert and thoughts spiral in denial.
Your breath is snatched when you feel Kazuha's cold hand fully clasp yours. He gently tilts your head so you're facing him. He holds your gaze, with a softness only a lover can behold.
"Words can't describe how much you mean to me, nor can they describe your beauty." His warm breath tickles your cheeks.
A small, brittle laugh passes through your lips, "I don't deserve you, Kazu."
In all honesty, he doesn't deserve you. Every single memory of you weaves through his mind like stardust, every picture, image he has of you held closely- carved into his soul. Little bits of imperfections and flaws decorate you, making you complete in his heart.
He pulls away, mirth and determination burning in the depths of his amber eyes.
"Then let me show you how much you do."
(first request eek) ohmygod nonnie i had so much fun writing this!!
sorry if its not exactly what you expected, but i tried :D
anyways to anyone reading this; i love you and all your imperfections, and that you are nothing less than anyone else just because of your looks. embrace yourself <3
#order up!!#genshin#genshin impact#genshin fluff#genshin x reader#kazuha#kazuha fluff#genshin kazuha#kazuha kaedehara#kazuha x reader#kazuha scenarios#xiao#xiao x reader#xiao scenarios#genshin xiao
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— sweet dreams
feral boys x gn! reader || headcanons
genre : fluff
warnings : swearing
summary : the feral boys' reaction to you falling asleep in their embrace or on them!
a/n : AYY HELLO!! i'm so sorry for the lack of content these last three days OTL but here's something i wrote, hope you guys liked it! ♡
song to listen to while reading :
— DREAM
let's say dream has just finished recording for his upcoming manhunt video and it was a chilly night
well, the solution? a gun CUDDLES!!! ♡
he's a sucker for cuddles and you love cuddling with him too, so why not?
the two of you plopped yourselves on the bed, warm blankets wrapping the two of you together
the first plan was to watch a movie, but the two of you ended up talking to each other and leaving the movie unwatched
he share many stories with you, letting you rest your head on his chest whilst listening to him. he would also put an arm around your shoulders to keep you warm and close to him 🥺
as time passes by, it was getting late. you felt really safe around dream, especially if you were in his embrace
your eyelids grew heavier each time you tried fighting it off and focus on dream's voice, which leads to you unconsciously falling asleep on his chest
after a few seconds talking, dream would realize your sleeping figure in his embrace and OHMYGOD
HE WANTS TO FREAK OUT SO BAD BECAUSE HOW CUTE YOU WERE—
lowkey scared that he might somehow crush you or something because you're the tiny little spoon in the current situation
man, he had to refrain himself from taking a picture of you sleeping in his embrace
and the fact that you felt safe enough to fall asleep in his arms makes him tear up (in a positive way!) 🥺
would slowly move you to a more comfortable position and carefully pull you closer to his chest, making sure that he doesn't wake you up
[hugs you tightly]
ALSO just like any other times, mans would secretly mark the date in his phone's calendar because OHMYGOD????? this date better be stamped on history books
after getting into a slightly more comfortable position, dream would just adore you— even only from looking at you, his serotonin level will always go 📈📈
would 100% whisper i love you's or other sweet words while looking at you
mans just smiling to himself, thinking about how much he loves you and adores you— and how lucky he is to have you in his embrace 🥺💞
after some time, he would start to drift away too and ending up sleeping while hugging you tightly in his arms 🥺
— GEORGE
the two of you were sleepyheads
like at the weekends? both you and george would just lazily lay on the bed and fall asleep together regardless what time it was
even at noon? NAP TIME
and today was one of those lazy days
you were laying your head on his lap, which leads to him to his habit of playing with your hair while joking around with you and talk about random things
he just absolutely adores your fluffy hair 🥺
he'd also learn how to braid hairs from youtube just so he could braid yours 🥺
AND SURPRISINGLY HE'S SO GOOD AT BRAIDING HAIRS 💞💞
the way he caressed your head was so comforting, which leads you to feel sleepy. you still wanted to talk with george so you tried fighting off the sleepiness but ended up falling asleep anyways
after not hearing a respond from you, he realized you fell asleep.
WAIT, YOU FELL ASLEEP ON HIS LAP AND THE WAY YOU LOOKED SO ADORABLE SHOULD BE ILLEGAL—
a blush crept up on his cheeks as he looked at your sleeping figure on his lap
ohmygod he absolutely adores this and 100% would plan more sleepy days with you just to see you fall alseep on his lap again
george would admire you shyly, his fingers still softly caressing your hair while making sure not to do it too hard since he doesn't want to wake you up 🥺
he looks at you > gets shy from how adorable you are and how much he loves you > look away > missing looking at you > back to the first step (put this cycle on repeat)
GOSH he just wants to pull you close to his embrace now but that's not possible to do since he doesn't want to wake you up ;(
as he secretly admires you, he would slowly feel sleepy too but he doesn't want to move you away from his lap
so this man right here decided to just sleep in a sitting position which he didn't mind too much since he could still lean his back on the stacked pillows
come on— he doesn't wanna ruin this adorable moment :( it's worth the back pain according to him 👍
and so with that, the two of you fell alseep peacefully 🥺💞
— SAPNAP
mans a whole ass tease @ you
mf would browse through hundreds of websites and collect the cheesiest jokes he can find to use them on you later 😳
also won't stop clinging on you for 24/7 but you don't mind since he's so adorable 🥺💞
and today was just the same like any other days, he clung on you and begged you to cuddle with him
how can you refuse such a sweet offer????
so here you are now laying on the bed with his arms around your shoulders, holding you close to him
the two of you would just joke and laugh at many things, just havin' a wholesome fun time 🥺
don't forget the fluffy blankets around the two of you (you adore soft blankets so sapnap bought you at least 3 blankets and you absolutely loved all three of them 🥺)
until at one point everything felt so comfortable that you didn't even realize you were drifting yourself to sleep
and the moment sapnap realized you fell asleep sweetly in his embrace?
[!(-?#?2@&&????? SCREAMS???? —NO, MAKE THE SCREAM SILENT SO IT WON'T WAKE YOU UP]
he can't help but let out a soft chuckle when saw your sleeping figure
oh man, he was gripping on the pillow tightly so that he doesn't lose control and pull you closer to him which could wake you up
100% gonna make you cuddle with him everyday until you fall asleep on him (mans just making it a routine now)
he would also have to refrain himself from squishing your cheeks while looking at you in awe 🥺💞
even though he's growing sleepy too, he won't give in so easily
like— hello??? a cutie pie just fell asleep in my arms, sleep can wait 🖐🖐
but then eventually he'll fall asleep anyways, but he swore he tried his best keeping his eyelids up and that's sweet 🥺
((would 100% unconsciously pull you closer and just hug you tightly in his sleep ♡))
— QUACKITY
we all know how much alex LOVES driving and mans really good at it (he knows what he's doing fellas)
especially with you 😳😳
the two of you would blast banger songs together while enjoying the road and the pretty view from the window 🥺
it was one of those afternoons again where the two of you went for a stroll with his car
both you and alex planned on only going for a short stroll, but ended up strolling around for almost 3 hours now
but neither of you cared, alex loves spending lots of time with you and same goes with you 🥺💞
the two of you wanted to get some fresh air for a bit after such a long drive, so you stopped by at the nearest field before driving back home
and man, the view was indeed beautiful
the two of you had moved to the back seat so he can get closer to you
as the two of you talked while watching the sun setting down, you started feeling a little bit sleepy
you shrugged it off at first and continued to talk with alex, but then you couldn't help but fall asleep with your head leaned on his shoulders eventually
and when he realized you has fallen asleep on his shoulders?
OH MY— HIS HEART WENT BRRRRRR BECAUSE OF HOW CUTE YOU ARE
definitely will plan on doing this in the furture but at home so he can just adore your sleeping figure for as long as he wants to
he has to drive back home but this moment is very important so he chose to stay there for at least the next 1 more hour 🥺💞
he just wants to kiss you on the forehead so bad but he's scared that he might wake you up :[
but then again, it was getting really late and he has to drive the two of you back home so he would carefully make you lay down on the back seat and he would put his jacket underneath your head as a pillow 🥺💞
and when the two of you arrived back home, he would carefully carry you back in and just cuddle you up for the rest of the night until he falls asleep too ♡
— KARL
karl jacobs has 2 moods : the wholesome mood and the cursed mood, no in betweens
he can either be very wholesome and send you the cutest hamster pics ever or just send you cursed, unexplainable images like macaronis boiled in gatorade
but even though he's in the cursed mood, his clinginess for you will stay the same ♡ (which you absolutely loved)
you loved both of his moods anyways since it's sweet and funny 🥺💞
today, he was feeling extra wholesome so he would just chill with you on the sofa in your matching frog hoodies and your head on his lap
((yes, he bought matching frog hoodies with you at christmas to wear them together 🥺👉👈))
the two of you would be watching cartoons, especially adventure time!! (it's superior cartoon, you can't change my mind)
then as time passes by, you felt your eyelids grew heavy but you tried fighting it back
yeah, you ended up falling asleep at the end 😔
karl noticed how you grew silent and when he checked on you only to see you sleeping on his lap?
yeah karl's never gonna leave his seat, 100%
mans just smiling to himself from looking at how cute you are in your oversized frog hoodie, asleep on his lap 🥺
GOSH this better happen frequently in the future because if not? he'll commit ARSON
he would try softly play with your hair, making sure his touches were soft so he doesn't wake you up
the cartoon is now long forgotten, his focus is just full on the sweetheart sleeping on his lap 🥺💞
he would constantly check on you and pull the blanket back up to your body if it moves back down, and make sure that he doesn't shift his legs too much because it might wake you up :(
will also try his best to not fall asleep because MAN, HE CAN'T JUST SKIP THIS HISTORICAL MOMENT
but he fell asleep anyways after holding back for around 40 minutes, which is impressive 😳
just like george, he doesn't mind falling asleep in a sitting position 👍 backpain = worth it
#mcyt#mcyt x reader#dream smp#dream smp x reader#mcyt fluff#feral boys#feral boys x reader#dreamwastaken#dreamwastaken x reader#dream x reader#georgenotfound#georgenotfound x reader#george x reader#sapnap#sapnap x reader#quackity#quackity x reader#quackityhq x reader#quackityhq#karl jacobs x reader#karl jacobs#karl x reader#dream team x reader#dreamwastaken headcanons#georgenotfound headcanons#sapnap headcanons#quackity headcanons#karl jacobs headcanons#mcyt headcanons#mcyt imagines
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i just re read Pavlovian Responce because its sooooo fcking good and i was wondering if you have any more thoughts about bucky playing with steve's tits because i👏🏻can't👏🏻get👏🏻enough👏🏻
<3
read "Pavlovian Response" here
Not you sending this ask in and me scratching my head for a good 30 seconds being like... I wrote a fic titled that?? And then suddenly all of my sin coming crashing back in when I remembered what it was 🤣
Two years ago, man. Damn. Back to the most aggressive part of the lock downs in my area and- oof, turns out I don't remember it well nor at all I guess haha
I mean-
Something that's always on my brain with Steve and his nipples is that I feel like ANY Steve, top of bottom, dom or sub, pre-serum or post-serum, modern or not, should have sensitive nipples. Like- can it be a rule? All Steve's have sensitive nipples and all Bucky's love to tease him about it?
And, yes, of course bottom!Steve should have sensitive nips because... can you imagine the pretty sounds he would make, riding Bucky, fingers tangled in his dark hair, chest heaving, head thrown back, thighs shaking, as Bucky leans down to mouth at his tits? Biting. Licking. Sucking. Maybe even slapping his across the chest when he stops bouncing on his cock, too overwhelmed to keep going? Well, until he gets that slap. That ring of pain makes his wet, red mouth fall open like he's seeing God. It always makes his hips stutter. He'll keep moving if he knows what's good for him.
Goddamn.
I can imagine that image... perhaps too well 👀
But also-? Also what I've been in the mood for more as of late, and what always kills me to think about, is Steve topping but being a sub. Like. I love the dynamic on its own, a top that's more of a puppy, whining and humping, helpless because their partner feels too good inside and they'll do whatever they want! They'll be good! They'll be good for them!
But Steve... I just want to see him whimper and squirm and try desperately to not cum too soon because, yes, he's plowing Bucky and he feels so hot and wet and tight and it's too much ohmygod, but also he's whining and moaning into Bucky's neck, bent over him, melting, because Bucky spent a good chunk of time working his tits up first... making his cock leak and twitch by pinching and teasing and twisting those sensitive nipples and massaging his tits. He did it until he thought Steve might cum from that alone and THEN Bucky stuck nipple clamps on him. They took a moment to calm down. And FINALLY, then Steve was allowed to watch Bucky open himself up and stick it in him. His aching cock in his twitching, wet hole... goddamn. Fucking him. Nearly down for the count on the third stroke between being edged and having the constant pressure on his nipples, the chain between the clamps swaying with his thursts and tugging harder at his chest. He's just too sensitive. He can't help it, always whining in the back of his throat- loving every torturous, pleasurable second of it.
Oh and don't even get me STARTED on the idea of an already sensitive Steve getting nipple piercings so he's so sensitive that if you so much as Breath heavily over his chest he'll let go of a high, pretty whimper. Jesus.
Thanks for stopping by <3
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heads up this one is a Chonky bOi:
ohmygod you UPDATED, you’re so lovely and so is your writing even though it makes me want to Scream (out of happiness and/or rage, it’s a mixed bag)
you do indeed make the The Most delicious cocktail, how could you ever doubt that??? also I got my own leekie tag :’) someone pls explain to me why that makes me emotional lmfao
noooo why do you always DO this sreedieeee “sokka was worried about jet finding out about who zuko really was” YOU BETTER FUCKING BE AFRAID ITS TOO DAMN LATE
“back to his rightful position as sifu hotpants” see this is the lightheartedness we need to see more of bc YOU KEEP TORTURING THE BOYS WITH NO RESPITE
also I may have forgotten that this plot point existed at all so it was a pleasant surprise
fuck you we’re back with another episode of Angst With Zuko, the most canon compliant aspect in this entire fic
lmao leave it to sokka to feel guilty about almost dying (like I Get it but also it’s the kind of situation where you have to laugh at the ridiculousness or else you’ll cry, and there’s already too much to cry about in this fic bestie)
YAY TINGLY LOVE FEELINGS our boys deserve good things <3
sreedie. I swear to fuckery if zuko is going to run away… I don’t have an adequate threat at the moment but I’m gonna be So Pissed my dude
lmfao not sokka’s ongoing shitty spirit luck-
but also >:(( about the letters LIKE THAT WAS SUCH A SMART PLOT POINT BY YOU AND I LOVE THAT YOURE A GENIUS but seriously Fuck this plot point
okay ik that “the big fire bender” is just a way to describe shen’s stature, but it makes me think of zuko being “the little fite bender” and idk the mental image of the big and little fire benders reminds me of a picture book my mum used to read to me where there was Big Mouse and Little Mouse and Little Mouse wouldn’t stfu and go to sleep bc Big Mouse was snoring too loud but the when Big Mouse put a peg on his nose to stop snoring then Little Mouse STILL couldn’t sleep bc he missed the reminder that Big Mouse was there to protect him from the scary things hiding in the dark and idk it’s cute (I’m pretty sure the book is called night noises??)
FUCK YEAH HAIR CUTTING LORE IM ABSOLUTELY THRIVING RN YOU DONT EVEN UNDERSTAND IM SUCH A SLUT FOR CULTURAL DIFFERENCES BEING EXPLAINED (also the way that zuko simply did not inform sokka of any of these implications I cannot with this boy)
smh hakoda pls accept that your son is gay, shen literally just told you they’re metaphorically fucking in public
nooOooOoOo sad bato hours :(((
also not to go off on a tangent, but I’m going to do exactly that actually. anyways. just the whole “kya would know what to do” shtick got me thinking, it’s interesting for characters to make assumptions about how things would be easier/different if another character is around but that wouldn’t necessarily actually be the case and it’s just them projecting onto their loved one the feeling of safety and dependency onto them so it can act as a source of comfort of sorts?? idk if that’s a coherent thought but it’s out in the world now
hakodaaaaaaaa jet hAS ALREADY FUCKING DONE SOMETHING STUPID I hate this I hate it I hate it I hate it why do I love your story so much I hate this
hakoda… there is No fucking way you’re gonna leave zuko behind… right. RIGHT?????? sreeder I swear on my fucking life if your separate our boys-
YO SURELY BATO WILL TALK HAKODA OUT OF BEING A BLOODY MORON SURELY SREEDER TELL ME IM RIGHT
god I love bato. also shen and zuko banter >>>
oh morrak, obviously they’re going to do something reckless this is jet we’re talking about
aaaaand that’s a WRAP
I am so torn between hating you for this ending and pumped for the next chapter bc shit is once again going to go down, and really, what else are we all here for??
anyways, in response to your proposal, I just wanna say that it feels like we’re divorced, but it was an amicable divorce and so we still celebrate holidays together so our children don’t have to choose which parent to spend time with BUT I use the divorce against you for comedic effect, such as you PULLING THE ANGST SHIT WITH ZUKKA and then I get to shake my head and say “this is why I divorced you”
love you to bits and pieces!!
leekie :)
Ohhhhhhhhh leekie I like my asks like I like my milkshakes ,,, THICK <3
Sifu hot pants takes his position extremely serious I don’t know what you mean by lighthearted?? ;)
If Zuko does run away it will be with elegance and grace and likely in the middle of the night so no one will know :D
Do you think if Zuko found out he was the ‘little fire bender’ he would kick Shen’s ass just to prove a point?
Your tangents are my world, but yeah remembering a person for their best qualities is important but it’s also important for him to at least….. TRY to do what kya would do!
If kya were here she would smack Hakoda upside the head because YOU ARENT EVEN TRYING DUDEEEE. Hakoda is lucky kya isn’t there to witness the mess he is making.
oommmgggg I love being divorced to you it’s the best decision we ever made. Mwa mwa mwa mwahhhhh. You’re the best leekie and you’ll probably hate me more after next chapter but that’s okkkkk!
#shaken not stirred my friend#leekie tag#look now you have another thing on your leekie tag!!#I should use tags correctly but ehhhh I’d rather ramble#I love your asks they make my heart happy#I also live for your big brain so congrats on being a smarty#anyywayyyyy lovvveee you#liab#ria#ask#divorced leekie & sreedie
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For @missaudreyhorney , I wrote this at work and didn't proofread, I hope you like it.
Max pierces El's ears. Also hopper isn't gone bc fuck that.
~
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"For the last time, yes!"
"Okay, because I don't think you've ever pierced anyone's ears before, and you don't even have pierced ears, and unless you're going to tell me you're the one who did Billy's ugly-ass ear-"
The hand holding the pin drops as her eyes move to shoot him a glare. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"I'm just saying-"
"Dude, leave her alone, she needs to focus!"
"Okay, okay!"
"And you're freaking El out!"
"Alright, jesus christ."
"Just trust me." She raises the pin again. "Do you trust me?"
The subject of the procedure looks hesitant. "Is it going to hurt?"
"Uhh-"
"No!"
"Yes."
The boys look at Max with incredulity.
"There's no point in lying to her! Besides, friends don't lie, right, El?"
"Right."
"So it will hurt, but it'll just be like a really hard pinch."
"'Pinch'?"
"Yeah, you know-" Lucas demonstrates by giving their curly-haired friend a hard pinch.
"Ow! Dude, what the shit??" He explains loudly, causing El to jump. He sends a pinch back.
"Ow!"
Max rolls her eyes at them. "Like this." She tells her friend as the boys start a pinch war. She gives El a pinch. El flinches.
"Not so bad, right?"
She shakes her head.
"Do just imagine that, but a little harder. Ready?"
El looks unsure.
"And I promise it'll be over before you know it, okay?"
She nods. Max leans over her, one eye squeezed shut, tongue ever so slightly poking out of the corner of her mouth. An image of concentration.
"One...two... three!" She jabs the pin through El's ear lobe. At the same time, a book flies off the bookshelf and hits Max squarely in the shoulder.
"Ow, El!"
This stops the boys from their distraction.
"What happened?"
"Are you okay??"
"It hurt." El explains meekly. She didn't mean to do it.
"Duh, I told you it would." But she's smiling. "It's okay, El, now you know what to expect."
El nods.
"Are you ready?"
She nods again. "Okay."
No telekinetic accidents happen the second time, but the boys are kind of freaking out.
"Ohmygod, oh my god, there's so much blood."
"Will you cool it, that's normal."
"The chief is going to flip his shit."
"Will you shut up??"
Later...
"Are you crazy, piercing her ears yourself, what were you thinking-??"
"Can you ever react normally to anything, Mike?"
"Guys, relax, geez. She's fine, and they look great."
"It's pretty." El agrees.
"Well, I still think Hopper's gonna kill you ."
"Who am I killing and why?" The voice rings down the hall.
"Shit-"
"I'm out."
"See you guys!"
Eventually, it's just the girls sitting alone in El's room when her adoptive father opens up he door. They have no idea how the boys managed to slip past, avoiding capture.
Hopper raises an eyebrow at the two of them, sitting in front of him with innocent smiles.
"Sir, did I tell you what a great job you did with that bust yesterday?" Max asks.
#stranger things#el hopper#max mayfield#dustin henderson#lucas sinclair#mike wheeler#will byers#one single mention of billy hargrove#ficlets#fanfic#fanfiction#my writings#byler if you wanna interpret it that way lol#also elmax if you wanna interpret it that way :D
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Ohmygod YES Susan Pevensie is awesome please talk to me about Susan i want to know everything you have to say
Literally THANK YOU for asking me this bc Susan Pevensie is a character I never get asked about and I have So Many Opinions.
I'm going to start by saying that Susan used to be my least favorite character in the series. This goes for the books and the movies. Some of it was for personal reasons--she reminds me of a couple of annoying ppl I know irl--but it was also bc I watched Prince Caspian which shoehorned her into a relationship with Caspian which I hated.
HOWEVER. I ended up rethinking this position after interacting with Susan fans and realizing that there are so many wonderful things to love about her!
(putting under the cut bc this got long)
Things Ash Loves About Susan Pevensie
Aight I'm not going to do a formal analysis yet on her, but instead rant about some of the unrelated things I adore about Susan Pevensie.
Susan the Archer
Look we all love archery here. I don't have anything more to say.
Okay, I actually do have more to say. I love the fact that Susan is a complete badass with the bow. You get the general impression that she's one of the royals in charge of public relations, traditions, foreign policy, etc. and yet she's the most competent archer in the series. One of the few things I liked about the movies is how they didn't downplay this. They actually let her be a badass and show off her skills.
Also the part where she kicks Trumpkin's ass was awesome.
Susan the Gentle
Susan being the most passive Pevensie was something I definitely underappreciated as a teenager. I think my non-ability to see past "I'm not like other girls" narrative and the combination of Susan being described as the most traditionally feminine woman in the Narnia series is what initially turned me off from her.
HOWEVER, now it's one of my favorite attributes! I love that Susan is a badass and the most beautiful woman in Narnia. She has hair down to her feet, every man and woman in the kingdom want to fuck her, and she's still a fucking badass who will not hesitate to kick your ass.
Susan the Sister
Most of my thoughts of Susan as an older sister mostly stem from my own personal headcanons, but she is an awesome sister to her siblings. She's Peter's voice of reason, Edmund's sass partner, and Lucy's big sister.
Susan the Mom-Friend
She is a literal mother-figure for Corin.
"[...] the most beautiful lady he had ever seen rose from her place and threw her arms round him and kissed him, saying: "Oh Corin, Corin, how could you? And thou and I such close friends ever since thy mother died. [...]"
-The Horse and His Boy, 33-34
Most everything I have to say about this ventures into headcanon territory, but I love the idea of Susan basically adopting Corin after his mom dies. The way she trusts Cor--who she thinks is Corin in this chapter--is really sweet and I wish we could've seen more of that relationship.
Susan the Flawed
Something I notice from the fandom is a lot of people who hate Susan tend to because of her flaws. On the other hand, most Susan stans like to wave away these flaws and blame C.S. Lewis for being misogynistic or Aslan for being a "cruel god" and ignore the fact that she is a deeply flawed person.
Susan gets something of a "reverse redemption arc" in The Chronicles of Narnia. This makes her not only a fascinating foil to Edmund--as both are analytical, logical people--but an interesting character by herself.
She starts out in TWW as very skeptical of Narnia and it's whole deal and also very condescending to Lucy throughout. She ultimately does admit that Lucy was right and does get on board with the whole prophecy at the same time Peter does, and ends the book being crowned "the Gentle Queen."
In The Horse and His Boy, she has a very interesting dynamic with Edmund and in even more interesting relationship with Rabadash. They don't even interact on-page with each other, but it's highly implied that she was interested in him when he was a guest in Narnia. His behavior obviously changed when she visited him in Tashbaan, but you have to wonder what their dynamic was like before for her to travel all the way to his home when relations between the countries were strained at best.
Prince Caspian is where the cracks start showing through. Susan has lived an entire life as an adult in Narnia, gets thrown back to England with her siblings, and is yet again in Narnia as a child. This book is what really emphasizes her one fatal flaw: convenience.
(Put a pin in that thought, I'll get back to it.)
Susan denies once again that Lucy saw something that the rest of them can't seen. She continues this narrative until every other sibling finally acknowledges Lucy in the right and only then does she apologize.
The last mention of Susan is in The Last Battle, where all of her flaws rise up against her in the worst way possible. I have a lot of controversial opinions on this that I'm going to address later, but I just want to say that Susan's reverse-redemption arc is something I actually like about her.
(There is also evidence that Susan does get a full redemption arc, just as Edmund and Eustace did, but C.S. Lewis was pretty much done with The Chronicles of Narnia at the point and instead encouraged fans to write their own version of how that went down.)
Okay, back to convenience being Susan's fatal flaw. So the one thing that comes up time and time again in the series is that Susan is very focused on material comforts. I believe it's implied that she's vain, and it's canonical that her own personal comfort spurs her to make decisions.
"[...] I really believed it was him — he, I mean — yesterday. When he warned us not to go down to the fir wood. And I really believed it was him tonight, when you woke us up. I mean, deep down inside. Or I could have, if I'd let myself. But I just wanted to get out of the woods and — and — oh, I don't know [...]"
Prince Caspian, 81
Prince Caspian has the strongest examples of Susan doing this, but certainly there's evidence elsewhere. There are a lot of fans who are distressed by this, claiming that Aslan and the others are too hard on her and shouldn't judge.
Honestly, I like that she's written with this flaw. Not only is it very relatable--(my own personal comfort and convenience is something I highly prioritize too)--but it humanizes a character who otherwise is ridiculously op and basically the Helen of Troy of the series. It may sound like I'm using this as an excuse to rant, but I really wouldn't have her any other way.
Susan As Portrayed by Anna Popplewell
Movie!Susan is a fucking delight.
She's sarcastic and badass and awesome and I could spend hours heaping praise on Anna's acting and her portrayal of Susan, but I can already tell that this post is going to be long so, I'll just stop here.
(10/10 want to be stabbed by her tho.)
Personal Headcanons
Let's talk about my fanon thoughts. I have many.
Susan is Aro
There's canonical evidence for this! Susan is a character who is heavily pursued by suitors everywhere, and even lets herself be courted by many of them, but chooses not to settle down. Even when she gets back to England and is described as only having interest in parties and material things, boys aren't mentioned.
I like to think that in The Horse in His Boy Susan was interested in Rabadash at first because he was a brilliant conversationalist. Nothing she says about him implies romantic interest, before and after she realizes the truth of his intentions.
Susan and Edmund Were Best Friends
This might be my love for The Horse and His Boy showing itself, but I think Susan and Edmund were thrown into circumstances where they interacted the most with each other.
Edmund is the ruler in charge of politics. Susan is the ruler in charge of Cair Paravel's public image. I imagine they spent time as ambassadors to other countries and planning royal functions.
They're also the most level-headed and logical out of their siblings, so they probably found a lot in common.
Susan Fancast
I literally just said I loved Anna's potrayal of Susan's (and I love what they gave us of older Susan too in LWW!), but I read the books in 2008 and my parents didn't let me see the movies bc I was like...nine years old and they thought it would be too scary.
So I had to headcanon my own interpretations.
Queen Susan the Gentle:
For some reason Merlin wasn't too scary for me to watch and I fell in love with Katie McGrath in like. Two episodes so. (On an unrelated note, I also fancast Bradley James as Peter at the time.)
Anyway, fanon Susan is basically Morgana Pendragon pre-evil arc. Sassy as hell, hot as fuck, and can kick your ass.
Unpopular Opinions
Yeah, feel free to skip this part if having controversial fandom opinions is a deal breaker for you.
The Problem With Susan Isn't Actually A Problem
I'm about to start so much discourse in the Narnia fandom, but C.S. Lewis's choices with her in The Last Battle weren't misogynistic. Bear in mind, I'm not saying that all of his writing choices in the series were A++ or excusing away certain racist/sexiest bits, but it's honestly baffling to me that people are so up in arms over Susan's exclusion in the final book.
So the part that everyone loses their shit over is as follows:
"My sister Susan," answered Peter shortly and gravely, "is no longer a friend of Narnia."
"Yes," said Eustace, "and whenever you've tried to get her to come and talk about Narnia or do anything about Narnia, she says 'What wonderful memories you have! Fancy your still thinking about all those funny games we used to play when we were children.'"
"Oh Susan!" said Jill, "she's interested in nothing now-a-days except nylons and lipstick and invitations. She always was a jolly sight too keen on being grown-up."
"Grown-up, indeed," said the Lady Polly. "I wish she would grow up. She wasted all her school time wanting to be the age she is now, and she'll waste all the rest of her life trying to stay that age. Her whole idea is to race on to the silliest time of one's life as quick as she can and then stop there as long as she can."
The Last Battle, 83-84
There's a lot to unpack here and I first want to say that everyone's opinion on this part, no matter how different than mine, is valid. I'm going to be quoting some other ppl's opinions on here and by no means am I bashing them. I just want to address my feelings on the matter and the best way to do that is to cite the thoughts of ppl who have opposing ideas.
Here are some arguments on Tumblr I've heard regarding "The Problem of Susan":
"How about we talk about what might have happened if Narnia hadn't deserted Susan? [...] What if we didn't tell Susan she had to go grow up in her own world and then shame and punish her for doing just that? She was told to walk away and she went. She did not try to stay a child all her life, wishing for something she had been told she couldn't have again."
"Narnia is filled with metaphors (often not very subtle ones) that are supposed to teach us how to be, and the most glaring one for any young girl to absorb is that it's okay to be a girl like Lucy, unthreatening and cheerful and valiant and faithful, but to be a girl like Susan gets you punished - in fact, you aren't just punished, you're destroyed."
"why do we call it ‘the problem’ where’s the problem about a young woman dealing with her trauma and choosing her own path, actively making the choice to keep living and to stay and to carve a life out in England when her siblings couldn’t? what is the problem about susan forgetting to somehow cope with what she’s experienced? why is it ‘the problem of susan’ that she recontextualised her faith?"
And then there's JK Rowling who said this:
There comes a point where Susan, who was the older girl, is lost to Narnia because she becomes interested in lipstick. She's become irreligious basically because she found sex. I have a big problem with that.
It's weird how I'm still finding new ways to hate JKR in the year 2021. Again, there is absolutely zero implication that Susan had sex when she came back to England. ZERO. Did she actually read the books? IDK. If someone shares this opinion pls reply with actual canonical evidence.
Back on topic, I'm a firm believer of death of the author and interpreting art via your own experiences. Which is why I'm also going to share my own interpretation by saying y'all are wrong.
Susan Pevensie was not abandoned by Narnia. She was not barred from Narnia because she is traditionally feminine or because she "owned her sexuality" (another opinion I didn't have time to condense down for this post) or because she recontextualized her faith or even because she deserved to be punished.
I also fail to see how Susan recontexualized her faith, as the entire point of it all is that she has none. Bringing this back to Susan's fatal flaw (personal convenience/material comforts), her prioritizing herself over her own faith is the reason she is "no longer a friend of Narnia." Not...whatever fanon y'all are imposing on her character.
Susan is not being punished for liking lipstick and looking pretty. Susan's not even being punished. Y'all read Neil Gaiman's The Problem of Susan and forgot it wasn't canon.
There are many reasons Susan is not in Aslan's Country (one of them being that she's not actually dead yet), but the main one has to do with this:
"[...] But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there.”
Voyage of the Dawn Treader, 215-216
Yeah, okay that's why Susan is no longer a friend of Narnia. The implication when the Pevensies are told that they can no longer enter Narnia is that they are to find Aslan in other places. Susan doesn't do this, instead choosing to focus her life on material things. It isn't the lipstick, it's that she only wants the lipstick.
Susan Had Sex In The Books
Oh and not in the context y'all are thinking. (Again, there are no implications that Susan was barred from Narnia for having sex or that she had sex when she came back to England.)
So there's actual canonical evidence that Susan and Rabadash had a sexual relationship. Sort of.
"What think you? We have been in this city fully three weeks. Have you yet settled in your mind whether you will marry this dark-faced lover of yours, this Prince Rabadash, or no?"
-The Horse and His Boy, 35
Edmund calls Rabadash her lover. Not her suitor. I don't know if the word had a different meaning in 1954, but it feels like C.S. Lewis is saying that they're fucking. I'm not really happy with the idea of Susan sleeping with an abuser, but really proud of her for Getting Some as a woman born in a time period where having premarital sex was a big no-no.
This also invalidates the weird opinion going on that Susan was barred from Narnia because she had sex.
Suspian Is The Worst
I haven't really talked about Movie!Susan much, but as long as we're talking unpopular opinions, it's worth noting that I hate Suspian. Some of it is the "Susan is Aro" headcanon screaming inside of me, but it's also the fact that it's written poorly, does nothing interesting for either character and generally comes across as awkward.
I feel like they were trying to make Prince Caspian sexy and relevant to teens. It came across as super heteronormative and unnecessary.
It also gets really really weird bc the next movie then gives Caspian and Edmund mad chemistry and we're all just like........ok.
Final Thoughts
Susan may not be my favorite character in the series, but she's grown on me over the years. I have many issues with fanon interpretations of her--which definately fueled some of my disdain for her initally--and I don't identify as a Susan Apologist.
I do however adore Susan and have many headcanons for her not mentioned here. I love reading fanfic, writing fanfic and meta, and generally having conversations about her and would love to talk more about it.
I welcome criticism (CONSTRUCTIVE) and conversation on all of my opinions and observations. Please drop into my inbox. <3
#susan pevensie#the chronicles of narnia#the problem of susan#narnia#meta#narnia meta#susan meta#ash does fandom#ash does meta
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liveblog: yugioh! s501-506
ep501
it's hysterical how rebecca is infatuated with yugi but yugi is like ????????????
everyone realized that they can't get home since no one booked a return flight from san fran haha
rebecca is jealous of tea haha
HELL YEAH A NEW KAIBA DUELING TOURNAMENT!
kaibaland has been built! and it's about to open!
kaiba in a white suit!!! ohwow he looks good
"the kaibacorp grand championship" ohriveting
what the fuck is up with mokuba's voice? puberty?
"you think kaiba would have the decency to come and ask us himself?"
um... kaiba? ask????? ask dweebs he can't really stand but puts up with when the world is in danger?? that kaiba?? yeah okay
HWAT
KAIB'AA NOT GONNA DUEL IN HIW OWN TOURNY???
who is this pink-haired dude
that you know BECAUSE he has - a french acent?? no german apparently???????? - pink hair and is into flowers he's a douchebag of epic proportions
oh so they have an computer dueler
this dumb kid got rid of all his magic and trap cards so he could get more dragon monster cards dummy
ep502
real talk: kaiba needs MUCH better cyber security because this is the econd? time someone has hackd his shit, and that's not conting rebecca right now to "find" the problem
ohmygod crying children no shut up
but you knwo what - this is gonna be a good duel just to see how ou can win with a deck full of monsters
"see to it that the swimming pool is filled with milk"
honestly though some cards need to only have one special effect and call it a day
wow not even one turn in and yami's down to 800 life points
"your deck is strong" "how?" "because it has heart"
"i'll take good old-fashioned brains over microchips any day"
"heart of the underdog" - if one draws a monster from their deck, they can draw another card (repeating)
oh hahahahahaha this is funny because the WHOLE DECK!! is monster cards
yami acting embarrassed is just.. so fucking cute ohmygod
ahh he instantly switched with yugi when put in a tight spot ha
kaiba literally flew to help save mokuba
PLEASE BRING BACK THE DOG JOKES!!!!
"anyone who's late for registration is immediately disqualified. mokuba, make sure wheeler is late"
WOW YUGI YOU'RE A STUD
zigfried
"i don't care who you are, you show some respect if you wanna stick around"
what the fuck is this lineup of duelists this is honestly hysterical
"it's joey wheeler! our overwhelming underdog!"
comedy
wow yugi's grandfather is part of the duel!
oh wow!!! so the finalist is gonna duel yugi! cool!
ep503
we have a new opening and please i am begging to see more tan!yami like i want to be flooded with that image only
"i need some female friends"
yugi knows leon on sight but couldn't tell you about anyone else
yugi wants yami to take over this public speaking role
sto phe's so precious
thank you kaiba for being dramatic as fuck!! and entering the stadium from dropping out of a helicopter and using a jetpack!!! to land
kaiba letting everyone know that this isn't some kumbaya duel! this is "a battlefield! so trust no one!"
kaiba is o smart and i hope that people don't talk shit about him
"the doctor is in! i guess you should've eaten tour apple today, because this doctor is here to stay."
stop
ep504
i actually want yugi's grandfather to win because i think it'd be fun
why the fuck does joey need to be number one?
oh wow i actually forget about the fact that joey has consistently not won any of the competitions he's been in hahaha
been so caught u in saving the world hat he couldn't win haha
"i'm wide open!"
ep505
i want my back to craaacckkk
"self-proclaimed child genius"
so is this duel gonna be about yugi's heart
what's funny is that rebecca is into yugi but vivian is into yami
lackluster duel
kaiba doesn't trust pink dude and i'm pretty sure it's because he knows that pink-haired dudes are douchebags
i don't know how it is in japanese, but i do admire the dub's committment to the aesthetics of everyone's character
the dedication to making bug jokes, or themed insults and sayings is actually commendable
pig dude won against weevil and rex in one turn
ep506
"don't touch the suit" "oh i'll touch more than that!"
"no one insults my fashion sense and gets away with it!"
joey is soooo fucking amped it's crazy
tea's flat tone literally made me choke
yugi finally letting him feelings out bless him
he just wants to play a regular tourny without high stakes!!
this german accent kills me
every time i see duke i just want to see more dungeon dice
the animation is a bit poor
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