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thoughtfulfiction · 1 day ago

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The Plague

Author’s note: This is another request that was sitting in my inbox for a year. Posting another new Justin fic after this but still working on rewrites so if you’d like me to work on an old fic to repost let me know!

On Friday, you woke up with a headache that felt like it came out of nowhere. Everything was foggy, like you were in a daze, and you couldn’t figure out why. The day before was relatively normal and nothing happened that would warrant this sudden bout of persistent and annoying pain. You hadn’t yelled or gotten too riled up the night before when the Chargers beat the Broncos in primetime. To be fair, Justin had made you sign a contract—yes, literally—with a pen, back when you were 16 weeks pregnant, before the season started. The contract, which was both ridiculous and endearing, essentially vowed you’d take it easy and not stress yourself out on game days. You couldn’t recall the exact wording, but you remembered something about calm, no exertion, and ease. Honestly, remembering things in general hasn't been your strong suit lately, pregnancy brain making it's appearance more frequently than you liked to admit. At 27 weeks pregnant though, you’d kept your end of the bargain—remaining cool and collected throughout the chaos of the game. So, this headache? Was just untimely and inconvenient.

Saturday morning, you woke up with a stuffy nose. Not ideal, especially after yesterday’s headache. You knew something was coming on, so you quickly decided that when the sniffles hit, you’d retreat to the guest room to spare Justin from catching whatever you had. The team was in the midst of defying all odds, on the road to a very successful season and solid playoff hopes in the first year of their rebuild and the last thing they needed was their starting quarterback coming down with a mysterious illness when they needed him most. You packed a bag with your essentials—clothes, toiletries, your phone charger, and laptop—anything to make you more comfortable while you isolated. As you made your way to the basement, you couldn’t help but be grateful for the full kitchen and fridge down there, greatly eliminating the trips upstairs you'd have to make and keeping Justin from constantly breathing your germ filled air.

The house felt so much quieter without him home, and as you cleaned feverishly, scrubbing surfaces and disinfecting everything in sight, you could feel your body protesting. But you couldn’t stop.

You woke up to your phone vibrating on the bed beside you, your hand weakly reaching for it. You didn’t even remember falling asleep.

“Hello?” Your voice was hoarse and rasping, worse than you thought it would be. Whatever bug was taking over your body was moving fast.

“Where are you?” Justin’s voice came through immediately, frantic. “I’ve been home for twenty minutes, calling your name like a crazy person. Thought something happened to you, I was ready to send out a search party.” He let out a breath, but there was no humor in it. Only worry, the kind that gnawed at him until he couldn’t focus on anything else.

You blinked, forcing yourself to stay awake, aware of how much energy it was taking just to stay alert. “I’m downstairs. Didn’t want you to catch whatever I’ve got, so I moved everything down here. Believe me, you don’t want this.”

Justin didn’t hesitate. “Gimme a second. I’m coming down.” His voice was firm, but the urgency behind it was undeniable.

Less than 15 minutes later, the door creaked open, and Justin poked his head in, his eyes immediately scanning the room before landing on you. His face was a mixture of concern and something else—fear, maybe.

“Babe…” His voice softened, and his eyes darted over your flushed face. “…You look—”

The look you gave him could melt diamonds. “Do not finish that sentence.”

Justin held up both hands in surrender, but his gaze lingered on you a moment too long, worry still clear in his eyes. He stepped fully into the room and reached out to touch your forehead, his palm warm against your clammy skin. “You’re burning up,” he murmured, the concern in his tone deepening.

“I changed the sheets on our bed. I tried to clean up a little bit too so you should be good in case I'm contagious,” you sniffle, forcing a weak smile, Justin frowning at you when the smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

He waves you off, standing next to you but maintaining a respectful distance. "You didn’t have to do that. Cleaning up is my job, remember?" His eyes scan your face, his concern obvious. "What hurts? Head? Throat? How’s your stomach?"

You hesitate when he reaches for your belly, having discovered that the baby readily responds to the sound of his voice. And he hasn't felt her kick since the morning and you want nothing more than to allow him to continue to bond with her, but you know it's not a good idea right now. "Justin, I'm sick. You can't touch me."

"I'm not touching you," he says, his tone almost comically serious. "I'm touching our baby."

You raise an eyebrow, your exhaustion making the sarcasm come out sharper than usual. "Our baby, who is currently living inside my body."

Justin sighs, retracting his hand as slowly as you've ever seen him move, although every inch he backs away causes him physical pain. "Fine, I'll try to keep my hands to myself. But you never answered my question."

You blink at him, confused. "What question?"

"What’s hurting?" he asks again, his voice softer now.

You sigh, the weight of the day pressing down on you. "Oh…everything? My head was hurting yesterday, but I didn’t think much of it. Then my nose got so stuffed up I couldn’t breathe, and now… I just hurt all over."

The man’s brow furrows deeply, concern etched into every line of his face. You can almost see the wheels turning in his mind as he processes everything. "Okay, here’s the plan: you rest. I’ll call the doctor and figure out what we need to do to get you feeling better. Deal?"

You nod, a yawn overtaking you before you can respond. Your body sinks deeper into the pillows, already surrendering to sleep.

Justin lingers for a moment, watching you with a mixture of worry and tenderness before quietly turning off the light. His footsteps retreat up the stairs, and you’re barely awake enough to register the soft click of the door closing behind him.

Dr. Shaw's number is dialed by the time he reaches the top step.

"Yeah she's running a fever, started with a headache and it's progressed since. She's clammy and achy everywhere and she's got a stuffy nose."

The doctor takes minute to take everything in, running though your symptoms in her head. "I won't know for sure until she comes in on Monday but it sounds like some kind of viral infection or the flu. Just make sure she's staying hydrated and getting lots of rest and I'll see you all first thing Monday morning."

He thanked the doctor and ended the call, dialing your mom's number as soon as he was done. Justin let her know the situation and that he needed her chicken noodle soup recipe, taking detailed notes along the way, hanging onto every word she said. When that was complete, he looked around the house and in the fridge before making a quick grocery list to figure out what you needed. The "quick" grocery trip ended up taking a couple hours because one stop turned into three. He looked at every pack of cough drops at CVS to check the ingredients list after googling "best cough drops for pregnant women" so that took some time. And then at Target he debated which fuzzy socks to get for about 20 minutes. As soon as he thought he was done he came up with something else that you might need and had to drive over to the next store to find it. After his latest stop he took a look in his trunk to examine the inventory, checking everything off the list before heading home.

The quarterback realized he may have gone overboard when he set all the bags on the counter but it was too late. And hopefully most of the stuff would come in handy until you were back to 100%. Justin could hear the shower running as he began to stock the downstairs kitchen with the new items. He bought fresh lemons, from Whole Foods no less, breaking a personal oath, for you to have in your tea. Whole Foods was usually way too pricey for him but since he found out the two of you were expecting, sparing no expense for you and the baby had become second nature. So he bought a bag of organic lemons for $6. The old Justin would’ve laughed at him—and probably teased him for buying a new electric kettle just so you wouldn’t have to wait for water to boil.

Yeah, he'd definitely gone overboard.

He shook his head at himself with a sigh, placing the cold compresses in the freezer. The cough drops, tissue boxes and the new humidifier were all lined up neatly in your new room for easy access. He even moved one of the side tables out from the living room and placed it by the door so he could have a hand sanitizer station in attempt to keep the germs at bay. Satisfied with his work, he headed back upstairs to gathering the soup ingredients and jumped right in. This was his style of cooking. Give him a recipe to follow and he can execute it to perfection. The aroma filled the kitchen, and as he ladled the soup into a bowl and prepped crackers and peanut butter as a backup, pride swelled in his chest.

You knew he was downstairs as soon as you stepped out of the shower. It dawned on you pretty early on that everywhere Justin went he brought this calming, grounding energy with him. Even though you didn't feel the best, it brought you peace. Once you were dressed you stepped out of the bathroom and looked around at your newly elevated sleeping arrangements. You gave your belly a soothing pat, making small circles along your front where you were feeling her move. "Your dad is the best angel, I can't wait for you to meet him." Smiling to yourself, you grabbed the pair of fuzzy socks he laid out for you on the bed and put them on, already starting to feel better.

Justin heard the bedroom door open before he saw you. “Are you hungry, babe?” he called out, carefully arranging the tray. “I made soup.”

You rounded the corner, moving slower than usual, but the sight of in front of you brought a sense of relief. “Thank you for all this,” you said softly. “I don’t deserve you.”

Justin froze mid-step, the emotion in your watery eyes hitting him like a punch to the chest. He wanted nothing more than to scoop you into his arms, but for now, he kept his distance. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said, voice low but steady. “It’s my job to take care of you. Both of you.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you glanced at the room, noting all the little touches he’d added. “Alright, let’s get you eating. How’s your energy? You still look wiped.”

You tried to brush it off, but he wasn’t buying it. “Go lay down,” he said, nudging the tray closer. “I’ll bring this in to you.”

“Fine,” you relented, heading for the closet. You returned moments later with a box of masks and gloves, setting them down on the counter. “But you’re wearing these if you’re gonna be around me. No arguments, Justin. We can’t risk you getting sick too.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, knowing better than to push when you were in this state. “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a small smile.

Satisfied, you made your way back to the bed, the simple task draining what little energy you had left. Justin watched you go, already slipping on the gloves, his heart full despite his worry.

Turning on the main light was too intense for your headache, so you settled for the soft glow of the TV when Justin walked in, balancing a tray with more items than you could have imagined. He gently set it down on the side table, his movements careful but deliberate.

"I brought several options," he pointed at each item as he listed them. "You've got tea, your water bottle and some Gatorades—Dr. Shaw said the electrolytes will help you get some of your energy back so I brought you a couple. There's some lemon and honey for your tea and if you need more I can bring the whole kettle in here and plug it in. Oh, and—” he looked around the room, considering the space, “maybe I should grab another table? So you don’t run out of room. I could also bring some extra water just in case…”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, breaking through your headache. “I think I’m good for now, Justin. You’ve already managed to bring half the kitchen in here.” You rested your hands on your lower belly and added, “If I need anything, I’ll text you.”

He hesitated, his gaze flicking between you and the tray as if he hadn’t done enough. “Promise? If you need anything—anything at all—please don’t hesitate.”

The tension in his voice made you smile. Gesturing to the spot on the bed beside you, you said, “Come here.”

He perched carefully on the edge of the bed, holding out a gloved hand as you guided it to your belly. A strong, steady kick greeted him, and his breath hitched audibly. His eyes, crinkling above the mask, told you everything his covered face couldn’t: he was overwhelmed with joy. Tears glistened in his eyes, and you could practically feel his heart swelling with love.

You placed your hand over his, offering quiet reassurance. “She’s okay. And you’re doing great.”

For a moment, he simply sat there, soaking it in. Then, his shoulders relaxed slightly, his gaze meeting yours with a renewed determination.

“I promise you’ll be the first to know if I need anything,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

He nodded, his gloved hand still resting where the baby had kicked. “Good. Because I’ll be right here.”

While you were in a cycle of falling asleep, waking up to blow your nose, shifting uncomfortably in bed and soothing your throat with cough drops before eventually falling asleep again, Justin was eating dinner, his laptop open watching film on the Patriots. They were playing the Bills the next day which would be a good game to watch but he wanted to get a head start and breakdown how their defense is set up and figure out ways to exploit their weaknesses. Checking his phone periodically, he couldn't hear anything coming from the room so he allowed himself to focus for two hours, going through New England's previous games and jotting down a few notes. His mind began to wander after he was done because the team was leaving for the East Coast on Thursday. If you were still sick by then who was going to stay with you? He wrote himself a reminder in his phone to tackle that problem later in the week. Around 9pm Justin decided to turn in, checking on you one more time, turning his ringer on before heading across the hall in the closest room to yours to get some much needed rest.

The sound was faint, but eerily familiar. He flew out of bed, his body moving way faster than his mind could process, trying to get to you. Justin's steps faltered at the bathroom door, his breath catching as he took in the sight of you hunched over the toilet without a second thought about being too close.

He knelt beside you, one hand gently holding your hair, the other rubbing slow, steady circles on your back. “It’s okay,” he murmured, though his heart was racing. “I’m here.”

By the time you were done, his mask and gloves were a distant memory. He helped you stand, his grip firm but gentle as he guided you to the sink. “Here's this to rinse your mouth if you need to,” he said handing you the cup full of the only mouthwash that didn't make you feel nauseous, his voice low and soothing. He stayed close as you brushed your teeth and gargled, his hand never leaving your back.

Once you were back in bed, he stepped out briefly to wash his hands, grabbing a water bottle on his way back. “Do you think we need to head to the ER?” he asked, his voice tighter than he intended.

His worried voice breaks through the silence but you shake your head, basically becoming one with the comforter. "I actually feel a lot better now believe it or not, probably a mix of the congestion and everything else already going on in my body but now? I'm serious I actually do feel better. Just tired."

Justin sighs, his body finally relaxing as he's looking at you. He can tell that you're less uncomfortable and there's less tension in your features, which brings him a flicker of relief. "Here I thought the morning sickness days were behind us," he teased, his tone much lighter now.

“That was not morning sickness, that was war. I was literally fighting for my life," you quipped, a faint smile playing on your lips. "This? This is much more manageable. And temporary." You yawn, your body finally finding the ideal sleeping position you'd been searching for since you woke up feeling like you were underwater. In the most unexpected way, getting sick in the middle of the night felt like a reset and hopefully you were turning a corner. For the first time since the day began, you melted into the bed, looking so peaceful it almost hurt to watch.

Justin lingered, his hand brushing the doorframe as he debated staying longer. Leaving you alone felt wrong, but he knew you needed rest...and so did he. Still, as he crossed the hall to his room, he couldn’t shake the image of your calm, serene face. It was the only thing that made the distance bearable.

When he woke up the next morning without any signs of illness he was both surprised and relieved to still be healthy. And he kind of wanted to use this as an excuse to reduce some of the physical distance. Not wanting to push it, he texted you and asked if you wanted breakfast and you let him know you were in the mood for something light. He brought you a banana and a few pieces of buttered toast. “Promise me you’ll drink more water today,” he said, setting the tray down.

Throughout the day he went back and forth between morning games, continuing his New England film and periodically walking by to check in...every hour like clockwork. During your third bathroom break of the day you heard him walk by and asked him to come in.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“It’s fine, I wasn't sleeping," you laugh a little, feeling more like yourself, "I knew you were coming by soon. The Bills-Patriots game is starting soon isn't it?"

"Yeah..." a smile forms on his face as he inches closer to the bed. "What if I watched it in here? You’re feeling better, right? I’ll keep my distance, I swear. We can, I don’t know… make a pillow wall or something?"

"Oh please, as if a pillow wall could stop you. Get over here." You haven't even finished your sentence and he's already making himself comfortable under the blankets.

His large hand found it's way to your bump, feeling her kick like she realized her dad is back where he belongs. “Hi, sweet girl,” he murmured, leaning down. “I missed you too. Soon as we get your mom feeling better, we’ll get back to normal, okay?”

"I think she's a fan of that plan," you laugh at her kicking and moving around like she agrees.

"Hey," he mock-scolded, "we're having a private conversation here. Do you mind?"

You laugh even harder as he peppers soft kisses to your rounded stomach. "I didn't realize how much this yesterday."

“Me too,” Justin admitted softly. “You scared me yesterday, you know? You looked so…”

“Like death?”

“Not funny.” He deadpanned, but his playful smirk gave him away. “I’m just glad you’re better.”

Before you could respond, Justin’s phone rang. Coach Day. He stared at it for a beat too long, visibly torn.

"It's okay, you should go. I'm not going anywhere."

Justin steps out of the room, the weight of real life staring at hitting him in the chest. This was just the beginning of having to balance being a dad and having a job that was not only demanding but a job that was his dream. He loved playing football and lived for it. The competition, the camaraderie with his teammates and the chance to win a Super Bowl is what every football player dreams of. And here he was struggling to pick up his phone because of what he was leaving behind. It had taken so long to commit to someone, to find that person to compromise for, and with you there was no debate. He was without a doubt a devoted husband who could compartmentalize like the best of them, at home he balanced work and your relationship. It had taken a lot of practice and some difficult conversations but now with a baby in the picture he wasn't sure about how to navigate this new territory. This unbelievable hold that his child already had on him was hard for him to put into words and the two of you hadn't even named her yet. He wasn't sure he wanted to compromise this much when she was born, not wanting to miss a moment of her growth and the thought of that made him feel like a failure already. Coach Day's words barely registered throughout the call as Justin went over all these scenarios in his mind. They'd just have to rehash this discussion during their meeting in the morning.

When he returned after the call, Justin’s face was a storm of emotions. "How are we gonna do this?"

"Babe? What do you mean? How are we gonna do what?" You sat up, extremely confused as to what could've happened on that call.

"How... how am I supposed to do this?" Justin ran a hand through his hair, pacing the room. "I mean, I’m gone half the time—meetings, film, travel—and then what? You’re here sick, or she’s sick, and I’m thousands of miles away—"

“Justin.” You grabbed his hand, pulling him to sit beside you. “Breathe. It’s okay. Look, I know what I signed up for. And you're going to be the most amazing dad in the world. She's already in love with you and doesn't even know what you look like, she's gonna love you even more. Honey don't worry about any of that okay? You literally dropped everything yesterday to nurse me back to health I think you can handle a few diaper changes. You might as well have a PhD in caring for people, it's like you're meant to be a dad. And everything else with work we will figure it out, we always do."

"You're right." His lips quirk up. "We make a pretty good team don't we?"

"The best. That's why we're adding another player soon."

Justin smiles, feeling less overwhelmed. "We should probably find a name for our new player at some point."

"I know...do you have any that you're feeling?"

He pulls out his phone with the baby name list that you've compiled the last few months. "What about Georgia?"

"Cute but I'm not really feeling it," you scroll, "Willow?"

Justin shakes his head, "Willow Herbert sounds kind of weird. And if we want to give her a nickname what are we supposed to call her? Will? That just doesn't sound right."

"Okay fair. Wait...I like this one," you point at the name in the middle of the screen.

Justin nods, finding the name interesting. "Remington. Remi. That's not bad. I kind of like it too. What does she think?" You grab his hand to place it along your rib cage, the baby had been relatively quiet the last few minutes but had decided to make herself known as soon as her parents started to go through names. "Remi, huh?" Justin’s grin widened as he felt the kick. His eyes softened, and he gently pressed his hand against your rib cage. "She approves. I mean, that was practically a yes, right?"

#justin herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert fanfic

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pomefioredove · 13 hours ago

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Hi, can I have a sugar cookie, #16, with chocolate drizzle?

order #16, sugar with chocolate drizzle

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ it'll pass

tropes: exes to lovers characters: leona additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, post-nrc, a little bittersweet, for those thinking they wouldn't forgive him and would marry rook instead, I understand, yes this is a fleabag reference <3

That question, that bitter uncertainty that had caged itself in your chest, behind your ribs, by your heart, had not passed.

It will pass, you had said, your friends had said, even he had said it himself.

It'll pass.

And then, the question. But what if it doesn't?

What if you never forget Leona Kingscholar?

What will you do with this love, now that there's no one to give it to?

It becomes grief, and pain. Bitterness, anger, resentment, longing, desire.

It becomes a secret, it becomes a question.

But what if it doesn't?

You had, at first, slept too much; but then that reminded you of him, and you stopped sleeping altogether.

You began writing, not fiction, nor letters, but your thoughts, if only to get them on paper and out of your head.

Most days, they were nonsense. A procession of words and feelings with no meaning, nor sense, nor relationship between one another.

Bird, television, cold, knocking, tired, tired, tired...

It always ended with that.

And it always began with Why? Why, what? Why did he leave you? Why didn't you stop him? Why can't you move on? Why any of these things?

It was strange.

You were the one destined to leave. When you and Leona fell in love, in your years at Night Raven College, that threat loomed over you both.

One day, you would leave.

Leona still became yours. He was the one constant in your life, the only person you could really rely on. He cared about you, more than he'd ever admit.

Likewise, he had never said that he wanted you to stay, but you knew he did.

It didn't matter. Crowley never found a way home, or perhaps he did, and didn't tell you, but again, it didn't matter. You graduated NRC, and went to Leona.

You were happy, too.

And then he was suddenly betrothed to a duchess, to have a family he never wanted, in a position he resented, and that was that.

It'll pass.

That's all he had said when you told him you loved him.

"I love you,"

"It'll pass,"

You wanted him to stay, like he did to you.

It'll pass.

You became despondent, sleepless. You found shelter and companionship in the form of an affluent Rook Hunt, when you had no one else to call.

But he, too, must leave. For months, the villa is empty, and it's only you and your disconnected words and your paper and the night.

One day, there's a letter for you.

Not for Rook, or for the household, but for you.

It has no name, no initials, no return address. It's not signed. It's typed. It says:

French, confused, nosy, prick, soft, missing, quiet.

So on, so forth. Hundreds of those words, meaningless and senseless and yet special, precious, worthy.

You hold the letter to your heart and the ink smudges on your sweaty hands.

There's another the next day. Quiet, manners, hate, missing, windows, dark.

And one more after that.

Boring, empty, doves, missing, water, spoon.

They come, one after the other, until Rook returns at the end of the month, freckled from the sun and tired from his work.

"Ah... an admirer?" he had asked, listening to you read the letters aloud.

"They aren't from you?"

"From me? Heh. I like to think my prose is a little more cohesive, non?"

You wake the next morning to breakfast, courtesy of Rook, and a letter, courtesy of the wind.

This one only has one word on it.

Sorry.

No more come after that.

The news that Prince Leona had broken off his engagement to the wealthy duchess reaches you in your remote room, through the sharp eyes and upturned lips of a certain Rook Hunt.

Unhappy, was the word, this time.

It was bitterly poetic. Unhappy. It reminded you of something you had written, but when you went looking for that, you were met with an empty sheet of stamps, and a drawer with no paper in it.

"You must forgive me," Rook had said, "I could not bear to see you both suffer so."

The mysterious letters, your "admirer", suddenly make sense.

The next day, another letter comes. But this one is special; it's attached to a hand, that of a certain Leona Kingscholar.

This one, too, has a full sentence.

I love you too.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #queued

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cakesunflower · 2 days ago

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lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 19

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

A/N: happy reading! comments & thoughts are always appreciated! <3

The morning is quiet as Rafe ventures out onto the balcony, the early chill making goosebumps rise on his skin as she settles down on the couch. The mug of coffee is warm in his hand as he sips, head turned towards the view overlooking the backyard and pool area. The sun is slowly rising as Rafe checks his emails on his phone, responding to anything urgent while saving the others for later. He’s wide awake, having gotten in morning work out and shower in, and has some time to kill before he needs to get ready for work.

He pauses for a moment after finishing checking his emails, a faint smile tugging at his mouth as he goes into his photo album and proceeds to change the lockscreen of his phone. He easily finds one of his favorite photos of Isla; one he took during one of their secret outings as they were walking, her hair tied back and lips a deep maroon, pulled back in a smile that showed off her dimples and made her eyes squint, chin lifted as she grinned at him while tugging on the strap of her bag.

She looks beautiful, adorable, and happy, not a care in the world. Rafe’s chest tightens as he stares at the photo of her—of his girlfriend—before setting it as the lockscreen picture of his phone. Now that their relationship is no longer a secret, he can do it like he had wanted to the second he took that picture. He loves her smile, can’t get enough of it. He’s a little obsessed, but with a girl like her, how can he not be?

“Hey. Good morning.” He looks up, surprised as he hadn’t heard footsteps approaching the sliding doors, and Rafe sits back when Sarah appears, hair slightly disheveled and an oversized sweatshirt, probably John B’s, drowning her frame.

“Hey.” His jaw clenches. He sees Isla’s teary eyed face in his mind, and though he knows Isla said that Sarah had come to her defense, it’s not so easy to forget how broken Isla looked yesterday. “Didn’t know you came home last night.” She spends most of her time at John B’s, and since she’s eighteen now, their dad lets her have her freedom.

Sarah clears her throat, stepping out and slowly moving to the chair opposite of him. “Yeah, everyone was asleep by the time I got in,” she says, sitting down with her hands sliding down the tops of her thighs to rest on her knees. Their gazes meet and Sarah’s shoulders slump slightly. “Isla told you what happened yesterday?” she asks carefully.

Rafe puts his mug down on the table with a slow inhale, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. “Yeah,” he answers evenly, gaze locking with his sister’s. “She was crying, Sarah.”

He sees her face fall, the regret evident in her brown eyes. Rafe is angry at how her friends found out, pissed that Topper interfered and fucked things up for Isla. He knew she was already so stressed, so anxious about telling her friends about their relationship, and had been waiting for the right time and right way to tell them. But Topper ripped that chance away from her, and she was more or less ambushed by the others. He hates that he wasn’t there for her; Rafe knows, as Isla said, it could have possibly made things worse. It could have had her friends on high alert and refusing to let their guards down if he was present. But at least he could have been there for her when she was being attacked by some of the people she loves the most.

Rafe could tell, just by the look in her eyes, how hurt she was, how upset. Her friends not hearing her out had been a blow. Honestly, Rafe has his friends, but after seeing Isla’s reaction yesterday—and what he knows of the Pogues—he knows that he’s never had the kind of friends that she has in them. It’s always been obvious how tight knit that group is and he can only ever admit it to himself, but Rafe has found himself, at times, being jealous of what they have. He wishes he had those kind of close friends, that kind of loyalty. For all of the shit he’s given the Pogues over the years, their closeness is always something he has admired.

So, to know that he’s the reason why, for Isla, it has gotten rocky—it physically pains him. He hated to see her cry; he’s angry that her friends reacted that way, even if it was expected. He’s desperate for them to be okay with their relationship; not because he wants their approval on his own, but because he knows Isla wants it, and he wants whatever she wants.

A part of him wonders if, if it came down to it, she would leave him to save her friendships. Truthfully, Rafe doesn’t think so—he doesn’t ever want to doubt her. But if she loses her friends because of him, because of his history with the Pogues, especially the guys, how would Rafe be able to live with himself?

“Everyone’s just. . . Shocked, you know?” Sarah says, breaking Rafe out of his thoughts. He blinks and refocuses his gaze on Sarah, who is playing with the blue threaded bracelet on her wrist. Matching to Isla’s yellow. He knows Kiara and Cleo have matching ones, too. “No one saw it coming and—how did it even happen, Rafe?” She shakes her head and Rafe’s throat locks when he realizes his sister looks awed, if anything. “How did. . . When did you start liking her?”

Rafe clenches his jaw, looking out beyond the railing, squinting slightly against the morning sun. His pulse quickens as he debates on his words to Sarah—words he hasn’t confessed to Isla. Not yet, anyway. “I think I always kind of liked her,” he murmurs, absently wringing his fingers together as he feels Sarah’s gaze burn his cheek. “I kept that to myself because I didn’t exactly get along with your friends. But then I’d see her smile and it just. . . Knocks me on my ass every time.” Rafe lets out a quiet, resigned chuckle. It’s the truth, though. Isla is gorgeous in ways that she could bring a king to his knees; her smile, though, is the first thing he noticed about her. Full lips pulled back to show the dimples that frame her mouth, showing off the apples of her cheeks and straight teeth, and the way her eyes squint a bit when she grins big. It’s a breathtaking sight—and one of Rafe’s favorites.

He focuses his gaze on his mug of half drunk coffee. “I knew she was too good for me, too kind. Hell, she still is. But then I saw her at your birthday party a few months ago and something shifted. I saw her hanging out with Wheezie and that was it for me.” Rafe looks at Sarah, who is gaping at him. The corner of his mouth tugs up as he shrugs. “She had me way before she even knew it.”

Sarah stares at him for a few long seconds, no doubt processing his words as she blinks slowly, lips parting. “I—” She stops, shaking her head as a disbelieving breath escapes her. “Wow. I had no idea it was like that for you,” Sarah says quietly, almost sheepishly. Like she’s embarrassed for doubting. Rafe can’t exactly blame her, but it still feels good to prove her otherwise. “Everyone kind of just assumed. . .”

She trails off with a shrug, and Rafe narrows his eyes. “Assumed what?”

Sarah twists her lips to the side, obviously hesitant, and Rafe clenches his jaw as he waits impatiently. “They assumed you were just using her, I guess?” She cringes when she says that, and Rafe knows it’s because his expression has darkened by her words.

“Using her?” he repeats tightly. If he clenched his jaw any more, he’s fairly certain his molars would crack. “What the fuck would I be—”

“It doesn’t make sense to me, either,” Sarah jumps in, in a tone that’s meant to calm him down.

But Rafe has been pissed off since yesterday, the second he saw tears in his girlfriend’s eyes. He’s fighting the instinctive urge to confront her friends, give them a piece of their mind. He doesn’t give a fuck what they say about him—but they can’t get away with how they had treated her, best friends or not. Hell, as her friends, bringing her to tears was not fucking okay, and the only reason Rafe hasn’t knocked down the door to the Chataeu is because he knows Isla won’t want him to do that.

“They’re just angry and confused,” Sarah continues, tucking a lock of dirty blonde hair behind her ear. “Rafe, you’ve—” She sighs, trying for a helpless sort of smile as Rafe sits quietly, listening with his jaw working. “You all don’t get along, right? And that—that’s an understatement.”

His muscles are tense. “I haven’t done shit—”

“I know. I noticed,” Sarah cuts him off, eyebrows rising. “I think they just have the habit of looping you in with Topper and Kelce.” She winces while Rafe scoffs, leaning back with his arms crossed. “But all of you never got along growing up, either. There’s a lot of history there that can’t be forgotten so easily, you know? Y’all have thrown way too many punches at each other to pretend it never happened. And, trust me, Isla pointed out that they’re not innocent in that, either.”

Despite himself, he feels the corner of his mouth lift at the mention of his girl defending him. Sarah notices. “Besides, you weren’t too thrilled when John B and I started dating, but you. . . Tolerate him now, right?” she asks, her voice taking a hopeful lilt. Rafe presses his tongue to the back of his teeth and dips his chin slightly in a single nod. “It’ll just take some time for them to come around to this. It’s a shock, right? No one saw it coming.”

“They need to apologize to her,” he says tightly. Rafe doesn’t care if they accept him or not—as long as they’re respectful of his relationship with Isla, and accept that she’s happy with him. “Making her cry is not fucking okay, Sarah.”

His sister nods. “No, I agree,” she says before silence descends, and when Rafe glances at her a second later, he catches her watching him with a look on her face he can’t quite describe. Confused? Thoughtful? He can’t quite make sense of it.

“What?” he asks, sounding more put-out than snappy.

Sarah’s expression softens, her lips pressing together in a knowing smile as she tilts her head slightly. “You really like her, huh?” she asks, her smile widening slightly. “You’re so protective of her.”

“She’s my girl,” Rafe says unabashedly, proudly. “The last thing I want is for anyone or anything to hurt her.”

“Good,” Sarah says with a nod of approval, getting to her feet. Her smile softens, then, more gentle as she looks down at him. “I’m glad she’s got you in her corner. As surprising as this relationship is, I think you guys are good for each other.”

Rafe’s head snaps towards his sister, unable to keep the surprise off his face. When Isla had told him yesterday that Sarah had come to her defense, Rafe had been relieved and glad, for sure. His relationship with Sarah had never not been good; it had just gotten rocky when she first started dating John B and hanging out with his group, simply because of Rafe’s own history with them. But what he had told Isla was true—he sees how good John B is to Sarah, and how happy she is with him. Whatever Rafe’s issues were with them, he can acknowledge the truth when he’s faced with it.

He had hoped the same could have been said for Isla’s friends.

But actually hearing Sarah say that she thinks he and Isla are good together, basically giving her approval. . . It feels better than Rafe would have thought. He’s glad to know that Sarah is on board with this, no matter how surprising.

When she turns to leave, Rafe watches her back for a second before he blurts, “You and John B are good together, too.” Sarah stills and then glances at him over her shoulder, her eyes slightly widened in surprise. Rafe tries not to shift uncomfortably where he sits; truthfully, he’s only ever been truly vulnerable with Isla, but he wants to get better at it with others. For Isla and for himself; starting with Sarah. He pushes past his awkwardness, his hesitance. “I mean it. I see how happy you are with him. I’m sorry I ever gave you shit for it.”

A few beats of silence pass, Sarah no doubt processing his words, before a breath escapes her upturned lips. “See?” she hums, smiling. “She is good for you.”

*****

The blades of the fan whirr on the ceiling of Isla’s bedroom, and she half hopes the rhythmic spinning will lull her back to sleep. If she strains her ears, she can hear her parents downstairs in the kitchen, but she can’t quite hear her sister, and Isla doesn’t want to. She has no doubt that an argument is going to break out between her and Kie the second they see each other, and Isla doesn’t have the energy to deal with this. She doesn’t want to argue with Kie, and Isla knows that she might just go off on Kie if her sister says anything against Rafe. Which she definitely will.

But, God, Isla just doesn’t want to face Kie, period. Her sister didn’t stick by her, didn’t come to her defense at all. Kie, of all people, was someone Isla thought she could rely on. No matter Kie’s issues with Rafe, Isla had genuinely thought—hoped—that her sister would be on her side when everyone else came crashing down on her. Isla can’t entirely comprehend the pain that flares every time she thinks of Kie not siding with her—which is a lot, since that confrontation at the Chateau. Kie just let the others attack her—let JJ attack her. That isn’t lost on Isla, and she doubts she’ll be forgetting it any time soon.

Her phone beeps, pulling her out of her thoughts, and Isla reaches for it, disconnecting it from the charger and looking at the screen. She smiles at the sight of Rafe’s name.

From: Rafe🤍

Morning, baby. Hope you have a good day at work. Would it be totally fucked up if I visited you at work for lunch?

A breathy chuckle escapes Isla, heart fluttering as she responds.

To: Rafe🤍

hiiiii. it’d be fucked up if you DIDN’T visit me

She doesn’t care that Kie’s working today, too. Doesn’t care that it might just be the shift from hell, working with her sister for a few hours after yesterday’s shitshow. Isla’s not going to let that stop her from seeing her boyfriend whenever she wants.

From: Rafe🤍

Yes, ma’am. I’ll see you around lunch time.

To: Rafe🤍

okay, have a good dayyyy

She lets out a sigh, unable to stop herself from smiling. Texting him, unsurprisingly, lifts Isla’s spirits enough to get her to kick her comforter off and get up from bed. After quickly making her bed, she heads to the bathroom and freshens up, wanting some breakfast before she gets ready for work. Which means venturing down to the kitchen.

As Isla exits her room and heads down the stairs, she silently prays her sister isn’t around, but those prayers were in vain when she sees Kiara in the kitchen with their parents. Anna and Mike are behind the counter, cooking breakfast, and Kie is sitting on the other side on the stool, her back to Isla as she eats. Isla tenses, freezing where she stands in the threshold of the kitchen. She has half a mind to turn and go back up to her room when her dad spots her.

“Hey, honey. Come eat. We made pancakes,” he tells her with an easy going grin, waving the spatula to the counter where the stack of pancakes rests.

From where she stands, Isla sees Kie’s shoulders tense as she sits up and Isla’s throat works as she slowly, reluctantly, wanders further into the kitchen. She warily eyes Kie’s back, approaching the counter and sitting on the stool at the end, keeping some distance as she refuses to look at her sister.

The tension in the room intensifies as Isla places two pancakes on her plate, pouring maple syrup over them before she begins eating as her parents talk amongst themselves by the stove. Isla doesn’t look at Kie as she eats, the clinking of their utensils against the plates ringing with the tension that radiates between them.

Clearing her throat, Isla asks, “Mom, can I get some coffee?”

Anna nods before jerking her chin at Kie. “Kiara, pass the pot to Isla,” she says before turning back to talk to Mike.

The coffee pot is sitting right by Kie’s plate, and when Isla’s gaze slides over, she sees Kie continuing to eat breakfast while scrolling on her phone as if she didn’t hear their mom. Isla stares at Kie for a beat, hoping that her gaze will burn her sister’s cheek, but Kie keeps ignoring her and Isla’s jaw clenches. It’s easier to be angry than hurt as she gets off the stool and storms around Kie .

“Unbelievable,” Isla mutters as she snatches the pot.

As she walks back to her seat, she hears Kie scoff. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Excuse me?” Isla demands, standing by her stool and putting down the pot, arms crossing as she stares Kie down. She’s vaguely aware of their parents’ conversation ceasing to look over at them. “If you have something to say, Kie, then say it.”

“Really?” Kie asks, spinning in the stool until she’s facing Isla. She narrows her eyes challengingly, head tilting. “No, thanks. I have nothing to say to you.”

“Girls—” Their dad tries to cut in, but Isla speaks over to him.

“Guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” she says to Kie, shrugging her shoulders. “Since you had no problem letting the others talk to me that way and you didn’t say shit to them.”

Kie’s lips purse, nostrils flaring before she lifts her chin. “They were only telling you what you needed to hear,” she says. Then she lets out a short, humorless laugh and adds, “They were being honest with you—something you weren’t.”

Isla’s chest tightens, teeth pressing together to keep her lips from trembling. “I was going to tell you guys, but Topper beat me to—”

“You think this is about whether or not you were gonna tell us?” Kie asks, eyebrows pulling together as she gets to her feet. “It didn’t matter when you told us, or if—” Her glare sharpens and Isla damn near feels the sting of it. “This is about the fact that you’re dating Rafe Cameron.”

Anna lets out a breath. “Kiara—”

“Of all the freaking guys in Kildare,” Kie continues, staring at Isla in disbelief and contempt, “you chose him? Are you seriously that desperate? It’s pathetic—”

“Hey!” Anna exclaims, walking around the kitchen island to stand between the girls, her expression one of disapproval as she stares at Kiara. “That is not okay, young lady.”

But Isla—the air has stilled in her lungs at her sister’s words. Desperate. Pathetic. The hurt pangs through Isla’s chest and she has to stop herself from physically taking a step back. That’s what Kie thinks?

She thinks Isla is desperate? Isla’s throat locks up, but she swallows it down as Kie responds to their mom, “She’s dating the biggest asshole in Kildare, Mom! She—”

“I don’t care—you do not talk to each other like that,” Anna says with a shake of her head.

“What the hell is going on?” Mike asks, staring between the three of them in bewilderment. Isla presses her teeth together, knowing that her mom had kept her word and didn’t tell even her dad about her relationship with Rafe.

Isla tries to ignore the rapid beating of her heart, expression going flat to keep the hurt out of her face, her voice. “Rafe and I are dating. Kie and the others disapprove,” she tells her dad flatly. She sees the flash of surprise on her dad’ face before looking back at Kie. “And I don’t care.”

Kie scoffs, eyes flashing as she shakes her head and cuts their gazes. “Yeah, that much is obvious,” she says.

Isla knows she’s getting nowhere with this. There’s no reasoning with Kie when she gets like this, stubborn as an ox and not willing to hear anything else. The tension in the kitchen is heavy, suffocating, and Isla’s appetite disappears in the wake of this useless, aching conversation.

“I’m gonna get ready for work,” she says to no one in particular, turning around.

“You haven’t had your breakfast yet, Isla,” her dad says.

“I’m not hungry,” Isla responds before going up the stairs.

She gets to her room, shuts the door, and cries. Out of anger or sadness, she’s not sure.

Maybe both.

*****

Isla’s shift at work goes by slowly and tortuously. After what happened in the kitchen, Anna gave Isla and Kie sections of the restaurant far away from each other’s, which might be in vain given the restaurant isn’t that big. But Kie is given the outdoor area while Isla’s section is closer to the front of the restaurant. She and her sister kept their distance, doing their job and doing an even better job of ignoring each other. Isla knows their dad is a little frustrated with them, but Anna keeps him from interfering, which Isla is grateful for. The last thing they need is for this situation to get uglier.

Throughout her shift, Isla has done her damndest not to think of Kie’s words from this morning. Desperate. Pathetic. God, Isla knows it’s not true. She knows that Kie’s angry and upset and feels betrayed by Isla’s relationship, but Isla hates that that’s how her sister views her. By Kie’s own standards, if Isla could have dated anyone in Kildare, then there’s a reason why Isla chose Rafe, and she wishes that Kie and the others could fucking understand that.

There’s been an ache in Isla’s chest since yesterday, one she can’t get rid of. A deep, aching hole that isn’t going away, even after she talked to Rafe yesterday. She knows he’s trying to help—that he wants to help—but she’s not sure how he can. Maybe if he talked to her friends, sure. But if they haven’t listened to her, why would they listen to him? And Isla doesn’t want him to feel useless, like he can’t. The last thing she wants is for him to feel helpless in helping her. It’s not his fault and she doesn’t want him thinking otherwise.

As if conjuring him from her thoughts, Isla glances towards the door as soon as it opens, and despite the heaviness in her chest, she smiles as he enters, her first real one since this morning. Their eyes meet immediately when he takes off his sunglasses, hanging them from the neck of his shirt as he grins at her.

“Hey, baby,” he greets in that familiar way that makes her heart flutter.

“Hi, honey,” she returns, laughing when his grin widens as she runs a customer’s credit card through the reader. “Give me a sec.”

Rafe nods, standing on the opposite side of the counter towards the end. “Take your time,” he says.

Isla quickly rings the customer up, grabbing the two copies of the receipt and clipping them to the credit card before walking around and heading to their table. “Thanks, y’all,” she smiles at the familiar faces as she places the card and receipts on the table. She takes a quick glance around at her section, noting that no one needs immediate attending to, and heads back around the counter and moves to the end towards Rafe. “What can I get for you, Mr. Cameron?” she asks with a grin, bracing her hands on the counter as she flicks her eyebrows up at him.

He scoffs out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement. “Uh—” He hesitates, drumming his fingers on the counter top.

“Don’t say nothing,” Isla warns him, pointing a finger. “It’s lunch time. Eat lunch.”

Rafe chuckles and, gosh, is he blushing? Isla falls for him a little more just then. “BLT and a Coke? Please?”

“Coming right up. You want a table?” she asks, nodding towards one of the empty tables in her section. But there’s also plenty of space at the end of the counter, and he wouldn’t be anyone’s way when Isla or another employee needs to move past. “Or you wanna sit here?” she adds, jerking her chin towards the spot.

Rafe follows her gaze before arching an eyebrow at her. “Can I?”

“Mhm,” Isla hums with a smile, dragging the stool out from the space under the counter and placing it at the end. She grins at Rafe as she tops the vinyl top of the stool and when he sits, she smiles at him. The stool is kind of high, and he’s already tall as hell, so they’re at eye level when they sit. “Let me put your order in.”

She finds her dad in the back and she leans into the kitchen, asking, “Hey, Dad. Can I get a BLT for Rafe, please?”

“He’s here?” he asks with an arched brow, even as he’s already reaching for the ingredients to make the sandwich. “Is that a good idea with Kie out there, too?”

Isla tenses slightly as she rolls her eyes, though she takes a step further into the kitchen. “I don’t care what she thinks.”

Her dad huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I got that this morning. One BLT coming right up.”

Isla comes back out to the front, opening the fridge and grabbing a can of Coke. “You came at a good time,” she says to Rafe, putting the can and a straw in front of him. “You just missed the lunch rush.”

“I did that on purpose,” he says with a small grin, folding his arms on the counter and tilting his chin at her. His smile turns knowing. “Didn’t wanna distract you when it was busy.”

Isla laughs, feeling a bit lighter as her own arms fold on the counter and she leans forward. “You’re so considerate,” she muses, moving towards her.

He meets her halfway and her eyes flutter shut in response to the quick kiss they exchange, feeling any lingering tension melt away from her body at the first touch of his lips against hers. The kiss is brief but sweet and gentle, even as Isla feels the thrill of being able to kiss him publicly. The secret and sneaking around was fun on its own, but this brings a new kind of giddiness that Isla isn’t used to.

She pulls away with a quiet sigh, not quite wanting to open her eyes just yet as she feels his forehead against hers. But the hair at the back of Isla’s neck stand when she feels a prickle of awareness, like someone is watching her. And when she pulls back and opens her eyes, she glances over to see Kie glaring at them as she fills up some glasses from the soda machine on the opposite side of the restaurant. Isla’s jaw clenches at the look of contempt on Kie’s face, appearing as though she’s grossed out by the sight of Isla and Rafe as she scoffs and turns away with a shake of her head.

Isla looks away from her, catching Rafe frowning at Kie before his gaze slides back to Isla. “Did you guys talk more?” he asks, unfolding one arm enough to cover her hand with his.

Desperate. Pathetic. Kie’s earlier words make Isla’s throat lock up as she drops her gaze down to her and Rafe’s hands. His larger one covering hers, the gold family ring on his pinky gleaming under the light. “Kind of,” Isla answers in a mumble. When Rafe arches an eyebrow questioningly, Isla shakes her head with a half smile, gaze casting downwards again. “Nothing worth repeating was said.”

“Hey.” His free hand reaches towards her, fingers lightly grasping her chin to lift her head until their gazes meet. Isla sees the concern swimming in his blue eyes, making her chest tighten as she feels his thumb lightly brush across her chin. “You need me, for anything, you let me know, okay? Don’t carry this on your own. This is about both of us so just—” Rafe lets out a breath, a kind of desperation flashing across his face. “Just lean on me, okay? Please.”

Isla’s throat works when she hears the plea in his voice as it heavies his words. And while part of Isla wants to keep it to herself, to not burden Rafe with what’s been said so far, she also knows it’s not fair to him to keep him in the dark. She’s hurting, and she knows Rafe wants to know because this concerns both of them, in the grand scheme of things.

“I will,” Isla promises with a nod. “Later, though, okay?”

Rafe nods just as Isla hears her dad call out, “Isla, your BLT.”

She pulls away from Rafe, grabbing the plate of food and thanking her dad before placing it in front of Rafe. “Bon appetit. I’ll be right back,” Isla says, squeezing his shoulder as she moves past him to attend to some tables.

She brings water to one table and begins taking the orders for another, and Isla can feel someone’s gaze on her—a weight she recognizes intimately. The smile tugs on the corner of Isla’s mouth before she even looks up and when she does, she sees Rafe watching her with a small smile as he reaches for his drink. Isla’s heart flutters just because of his stare, flicking her eyebrows up playfully and making his smile widen before she focuses her attention back on the customers.

She keeps busy for the next ten minutes or so, avoiding eye contact with Kie whenever her sister comes inside because Isla doesn’t want to see the faces her sister makes whenever she looks towards Rafe. Kie may not like having him here, but every time Isla glances over and looks at him, she can’t help but smile, loving the sight of him there.

By the time Isla gets back around the counter, Rafe is finishing off his lunch. “You’re closing, right?” he asks as he wipes his mouth with a napkin.

“Yup,” Isla answers with a sigh, leaning with one hand against the counter top and the other resting on her jutted out hip. She widens her eyes at Rafe, lips pursing before she adds sarcastically, “Should be a blast.”

She meaningfully nods her head towards the outdoor eating area, and Rafe presses his lips together. “Kie’s closing, too?” he asks and Isla nods, her stomach twisting. Rafe frowns, his gaze looking her over as though he can see her inner turmoil. “You’ll be okay?”

Isla scoffs. “I’ll survive,” she says with a shrug, glancing at the time on her Apple Watch. “You gotta head back?”

“Yeah,” Rafe sighs, standing up and pulling out his wallet from the back pocket of his pants. “Can I get the bill?”

Isla makes a face, standing straight as she crosses her arms. Rafe stares at her, confused, as Isla lets out a scoff. “It’s on the house, honey.” He’s always paying for her food, buying her things; this is the least she could do.

Rafe’s expression falls flat with a dip of his chin. “No, let me—”

Isla cuts him off by stepping closer to him, their fronts pressing together. She tilts her head up at him as he arches an eyebrow down at her, mirth flickering in those blue eyes as Isla grins with a hand pressed to his chest. “You can pay right here,” she tells him, bringing her free hand up to tap her lips with a finger.

His lips purse in amusement, a subtle tilt of his strong chin as Isla wiggles her eyebrows playfully, trying to stifle her laugh. “You’re somethin’ else,” he murmurs before leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to her lips, his hand resting on her hip.

Isla smiles against his lips, stomach fluttering when he hums into the kiss. “You love it,” she mumbles in response, making him chuckle lowly.

They break the kiss all too soon. “Very true,” he says with a wink. “Text me later, yeah? If you’re not tired, we could do something.”

Isla nods, biting her smiling bottom lip as he steps away. “I will,” she says.

He leaves after saying goodbye, and Isla lets out a long breath before getting back to work. The rest of the day passes by uneventfully, serving familiar faces and then some. She and Kie manage to avoid each other for the remainder of their shift, awkward and tense but in stilted quiet. But Isla should have known that once the last of the customers leave and the doors are locked to the public, it would only be a matter of time until things came to a head once again.

Except it all started by an innocent comment from Isla’s mom. “It was nice to see Rafe,” she says to Isla as she counts the money in one of the registers, while Isla counts the other. When Isla glances up, she knows for a fact sees Kie tense up from where she’s cleaning one of the other tables. “I hope you didn’t make him pay for lunch.”

Isla snorts into a laugh, mentally counting the money as she sorts through the bills. “Of course, I didn’t. I mean, he tried to, but I told him no.”

Anna chuckles, but it’s Kie who scoffs from where she stands. “Yeah, sure, don’t let the filthy rich guy pay for his lunch. It’s how the rich stay rich, you know,” she says, throwing a reproachful look at Isla over her shoulder. “Keep giving them shit for free. It’s only a matter of time until they take advantage of you.”

Isla knows she shouldn’t engage, that Kie is only trying to provoke her. But she’s also sick of all the nasty glares Kie had been sending Rafe during the forty minutes or so he was here, as well as growing sick of the harsh words she keeps spewing without a care. “Can you stop talking like you know him?” she asks, narrowing her eyes. She’s definitely lost where she was counting but she can’t bring herself to care right now.

“I do know him,” Kie snaps as she fully turns around, features pulled tightly into a glare. “He’s the guy that used to happily get into fights with our friends, remember? He’s the one who gave Pope a black eye and knocked John B off his bike at the last Enduro and got JJ fired from that mechanic job last year—”

“JJ keyed his car, Kie, or are you forgetting that part since you like him?” Isla cuts in, jaw working. The full story is that JJ had that job at one of the mechanic’s over on Figure Eight because the pay was better than working at an auto shop on the Cut, and Rafe had brought in his car right after that last Enduro where he and John B crashed into each other. And Isla can admit, that crash had looked purposeful on Rafe’s part, but no one got hurt—miraculously—and neither of them won that race. And so when Rafe brought his car to get fixed, JJ had done that. But not before keying his car, too. It was an impulsive, idiotic decision on JJ’s part, but that’s also not new.

“And stop making it sound like that the guys aren’t innocent, either. They love to pick fights, too,” Isla says with a lift of her chin. She narrows her eyes, pulse quickening. “You’re so damn quick to judge Rafe, but you don’t know him. People can change—”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Kie scoffs with a roll of her eyes, her tone heavy with sarcasm. From her peripheral vision, Isla can see her mom has stopped working, watching the two of them with worry. “Just ’cause he stopped shitting on us for a couple of months, he’s suddenly a brand new person. Do you seriously believe that?” she demands with her arms crossing over her chest, her expression holding nothing but judgement in the purse of her lips and arch of her eyebrow.

Isla feels like she’s losing her mind. “Yes! Because I spend time with him!” she exclaims, voice raising his frustration. “And you know me, so why the hell would I want to date anyone that I didn’t think was a good person? You think I didn’t think about how you guys would take it, how y’all would feel, when you found out about us?”

Kie’s nostrils flare, not backing down with a stubborn tilt of her chin. “Because you know, deep down, exactly the kind of person he is. You were embarrassed—”

Isla’s temper flares, chest tightening. “Don’t fucking put words in my mouth, Kiara,” she snaps, noting the way her sister’s eyes widen slightly.

Anna places a hand on Isla’s arm. “Isla—”

But Isla shrugs it off, walking around the counter until she’s standing in front of it. Kie is still a good ten feet away. “I wasn’t embarrassed to tell you about him,” Isla says, practically gritting the words out through her teeth. “I was anxious because I know you guys wouldn’t want to see the truth that people can change. You’ve all built some narrative in your head that he’s some kind of villain, when I know for a fact that he’s not. I was nervous because I know it’s hard for y’all to let shit go, and you would hold the past against him when he’s proven to me that he’s not the same person he was even a year ago.”

Isla’s chest has grown tight, her breathing a little shallow. She can hear her heart thundering in her ears, drowning out the sound of her dad’s heavy footsteps coming out of the back, no doubt watching this unfold with her mom. “But I had hoped you guys would prove me wrong and would at least hear me out, but that’s the only part I was wrong about, I guess.” She shrugs, unable to fake nonchalance as she clenches her jaw. Kie’s gaze is hard and Isla isn’t sure if she’s putting on a mask or what. She’s too damn tired to even try and figure it out. “You, though,” Isla shakes her head with a hollow laugh, the corner of her mouth curved up in a sardonic smile. “You really surprised me, Kie. I thought at least my own sister would try and defend me. But you just joined the rest of them. Didn’t say a damn thing against JJ when he was going at me.”

Isla swears she sees Kie’s lower lip quiver for a brief moment before her sister says, “You’re the one who chose your relationship with Rafe over your friendship with us.”

Isla’s heart cracks, but she has her response ready on her tongue. Even as tears threaten to fill her eyes. “And you chose your hatred of him over your supposed love for me.”

The blow lands, watching as Kie flinches ever so slightly and Isla doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt for uttering those words—not when she believes them, in this moment. Kie shakes her head slowly. “You don’t get to lie to us and then victimize yourself in all of this.”

Victimize myself? Isla would laugh if she wasn’t so damn hurt. “The only reason I lied was because I didn’t want to have to make a choice,” Isla fires back, eyes narrowing as she tries to keep the hurt from leaking into her voice. “Or do you not remember JJ giving me that shitty ultimatum? Or, oh wait—” Isla feigns a look of surprise, eyes widening. “Do you not care because you made the choice to stick by the guy you like instead of your sister?” Isla scoffs, pulse racing so quickly that it threatens to make her dizzy as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Pretty hypocritical of you, Kie. And real fucking hurtful.” Her voice shakes on those last four words, fingers curling into her palms. “I know you guys felt betrayed, or whatever, but did you think for a second how awful you guys made me feel with all of that shit you said?”

Silence from Kie, and Isla’s throat locks. “I didn’t think so,” she whispers.

Kiara’s lips part, but she still doesn’t say anything, seemingly at a loss for words. But the fight somehow still remains in her brown eyes, making Isla remain tense. “Okay, girls,” Anna says from behind her in a calming voice. “Let’s just take a breath, okay?”

“No, that’s not necessary,” Isla cuts in, her hard gaze fixed on Kie. To her sister, she says, “I like Rafe, a lot. And I love you guys. But you’re not being fair, and if you guys were my friends, I shouldn’t have to beg you to explain anything. You guys weren’t the only ones who didn’t like Rafe. I was right there with you, remember? But obviously shit changed—enough for me to actually date him. Did you even think of that?” When Kie doesn’t say anything, lips pressed together and jaw working to show off that conflicted expression on her face, Isla loosens a rough breath. She blinks a few times as she turns to face her parents, who are watching them with twin expressions of worry. Isla inhales shakily. “I know I’m supposed to help close, but can I just—” She shakes her head. “I need to go.”

Her mom’s expression falls, forehead creasing with worry. Her dad places a hand on Anna’s shoulder while nodding at Isla. “Go ahead, baby. We got it.”

Isla nods in gratitude, offering them a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. Anna bends to grab Isla’s purse from under the counter, handing it to her, and Isla mumbles a thank you before exiting the restaurant, not sparing a glance back at Kie. Isla’s not sure if Kie’s going to get a lecture from their parents or comfort, maybe a mix of both, but she doesn’t stick around to find out.

The second she gets in her car, she starts it but doesn’t quite pull out of the lot. Instead, she grips the steering wheel and leans forward, pressing her forehead against it. A rough breath escapes her, eyes squeezing shut as she tries to calm her racing pulse down. Whatever she said, she knows needed to be said. Her sister needs to know the hurt she and the others caused to Isla, and whether or not that’s going to change their stubborn nature, Isla doesn’t know. Deep down, Isla believes that eventually things will work out, that they may even look back and laugh at all of this, but she really fucking wishes that eventually was right now.

She inhales sharply before exhaling slowly, throat working as her grip on the wheel tightens. Isla feels the tears escape with another shuddering breath, sniffling as she sits up and wipes at her cheeks. “Pull yourself together,” she mutters, flipping down the visor and sliding open the mirror to pat and wipe at the area under her eyes to get rid of any mascara that smudged. Swallowing, Isla pulls out her phone and dials the number she already knows by heart.

It rings twice before Rafe’s deep voice answers. “Hey, baby.”

Isla sighs. “Can I come over?”

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thisweknow · 2 days ago

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I very much understand your frustration with the "you! are! valid!" Tumblr culture from the mid-2010s, that was something that honestly made me feel so isolated as a teenager. I hated hearing "it gets better!" and watching my life fall further and further apart with everyone telling me that it would all be fine one day. It felt hypocritical. It WAS hypocritical—to tell me my feelings and my experiences were valid and then to just absolutely steamroll me when I expressed my frustrations and fears.

I started to favor the phrase "everything changes" around the time I turned 16. I liked the idea of neutrality, it was something I'd seen as a suggestion relating to body positivity, which I struggle(d) with greatly. The basic premise was that if you couldn't say anything positive, try saying something neutral. Everything changes is neutral. It's not saying it'll get better necessarily, but not that it would be worse, either. It felt like the closest to a truth I could have. What I was dealing with in any given moment wouldn't last forever. Everything changes, my circumstances today are entirely different than my circumstances tomorrow, even if it doesn't always feel like it.

I've let that phrase carry me for years. In the bad moments I remind myself that everything changes, and the world parts that suck won't suck so immediately forever. In the good moments I remind myself that everything changes, and I should hold on to those and savor them for what they are, even if they're peppered in with the worst moments.

It's not to say that I don't remember the bad moments now—I very much do. I can remember a lot of the trauma of my childhood and if I let myself sit with it for too long I can feel what it was like to sit awake at 3 AM sobbing in my room wishing that I was no longer here. I don't think I will ever truly forget that. I can say that those parts aren't the part on my mind anymore. When I look back at my life I tend to look with rose colored glasses at the parts that were good. The moments I spent with my friends, the nights I'd sneak out to ride my bike in the peace and silence of the small town I lived in, the rehearsals for plays that I dreaded going to but loved being in, the way my dog would curl up at my feet and sleep there all night when I was sad—the list goes on. The bad parts are still very much remembered and acknowledged, but the good parts are the ones I think about and the ones I miss.

I know that I struggled for a long time with feeling guilty about having moments I looked back on that I didn't hate. This was especially true after leaving an abusive relationship. I knew the person I had left had been abusive and had done horrible things to me, that I had sustained damages that I wasn't sure I could recover from. Yet I still had moments I looked back on fondly. Moments where I had genuinely cared for my abuser, moments of sweetness and moments of joy, moments of calm and peace that I hadn't had with anyone else. I felt like looking at those moments somewhat fondly cheapened my experiences, as if it was somehow an admission of fraud to acknowledge that even the worst thing that had ever happened to me had its silver linings. It took years of therapy and dedicated self work to finally understand that abuse doesn't happen in a vacuum and that it's okay to miss those good moments, however many there might be, even when we know the overall situation was awful.

It's okay to savor the good things when they come your way. A journal entry from when I was about 17 sums it up really well: I don't want to be happy all of the time. If I was happy all of the time I wouldn't really feel happy anymore, would I? It would just be my normal, my neutral. I want to feel positive at least 75% of the time, that's my goal. I want to feel sad sometimes, too. I want to feel angry and hurt, I want to feel excited and happy and in love, too. I want to experience every emotion life has to offer, even the sucky ones. I don't think I would appreciate happiness if I didn't experience everything else, yknow?

btw you will miss this in 5 or 10 years. memory will smooth these circumstances down like a river stone, and you will find yourself longing for a shade of light or a moment of this particular innocence. you don't know about what happens next, and one day that will be the most alluring thing of all. don't leave it all for nostalgia. have a nice night now, whatever night it happens to be.

#sorry if this is an unwelcome addition #but what you said really resonated with me and i just #i think sometimes its helpful to see other people who have gone through it #and i think that more kids who are struggling and hating to hear that everything gets better and to just wait #i think they need to hear that its okay to take a more neutral approaxh #and that you dont need to feel guilty to enjoying the small things #and that you dont have to strice to be happy 100% of the time #that you really just need to strive for the positive side of neutral and anything greater than that is a blessing #and thats not to be a downer or anytjing #i genuinely meant what i said before about feeling as if being properly happy all of the time would cheapen the feeling of happiness #you just gotta find what that positive neutral is for you #like for me it's no longer feeling suicidal and feeling optimistic about things more than i do pessimistic #like i dont feel miserable or like i dont want to get out of bed #most days i feel like im excited to get up and go to work and see the people i care avout and that im excited to go home #and to go home to a husband who loves me and my dog and my two cats #and yeah sometimes im frustrated or cranky or sad but those feelings are much fewer and further between than the more positive feelings #and sometimes thats enough #idk i hope this makes sense im very tired its 1 am and i cant sleep bc my tummy hurts so im a lil out of it

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holyadoptionpapersbatman · 3 days ago

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Okay, now I'm just imagining an au where Telemachus gains training and self-confidence and cunning a little bit earlier (16 or 17-ish??) and manages to find a loophole that allows him to just kill all the suitors. He manages to convince his mother and his people to become King of Ithaca, but also letting people know that they still believe that Odysseus is still alive.

And so, in classic Anastasia fashion, men come up to Telemachus (despite hearing about his recent feat in killing 108 men single-handedly) declaring that they're his father.

Now, he could just straight up kill them.

But instead, he decides to use his mother's challenges.

The first challenge, as we all know it, is that they need to string his father's bow (that's now extra blessed by Athena so that Odysseus is the only person who manages) and shoot through 12 axes.

Then, if they miraculously manage it because they had their own divine intervention, Telemachus will take them into his "parents' room". The Quotation Marks are there because it isn't actually his parents' room. It's just a really lavish room no one in the royal family is using. But he will tell the man that it surely is. And if the man agrees, Telemachus will kill that man on the spot.

Many fail the first test and are sent away.

One manages to get divine intervention from Apollo, but fails the second test and dies.

And then, suddenly, there's this beggar. Athena is quiet in Telemachus' head, but the young man now 20 years old dares not to believe. This old man who looks worn, tired, starved of love and yet looks at Telemachus as if he has plenty to give him. Telemachus dares not to hope.

He remains stoic in his seat, eyes glaring, anticipating the old man to make a mistake so he could send him on his way. Or if he becomes too rowdy, kill him and forget about all this and brood in disappointment.

But the beggar manages. He strings the bow. He shoots through the axes cleanly.

"What is the second challenge?" the old man asks, voice scratchy but amused.

Telemachus is quiet for a few moments.

Then, he stands from his throne.

"Follow me."

Telemachus' heart is pounding in his chest. Athena still hasn't spoken. But she is here, he feels her presence.

This is the moment of truth.

Telemachus leads Odysseus to a lavish room different from the man who had been assisted by Apollo.

He stands in the middle of it, gesturing randomly.

"Here is your and mother's room," he said, keeping his voice level. He fakes a smile as he adds, "Please wait here as I call for her. She must be in the gardens somewhere."

The man is quiet, eyes shining in the light as he shakily gestures to the bed.

"That is not our bed."

Telemachus refrains from sucking in a breath. "What do you mean?" he asks, prompting, challenging the man to explain.

"I carved the bed your mother and I laid in with my own hands," the man said, voice trembling even more now. "From the olive tree where we first met. I built the palace around that because that bed, our wedding bed, is the symbol of our love."

The man looks at Telemachus desperately. "This cannot be our room. If it is, please, I beg you, tell me what happened to the bed."

Telemachus' voice is almost a whisper when he asks, "How easy would it be to move the bed?"

The man, Odysseus, his father, cries, "The bed is the tree itself!"

Telemachus finally let his tears fall.

"This isn't your room, father," he said, smiling as droplet after droplet fell from his face. "Your room had not changed, and your bed had never been moved. Mother is waiting there as she had always been for the past 20 years."

The man stares at him, and suddenly Telemachus felt self-concious as he wipes his tears away. His father must be angry, or indignant. He wonders if he disappointed his father, and resigns himself that there's nothing Telemachus could do if he has. He has his own style of dealing with things, so if his father couldn't accept it, then he guesses that's that.

"You've grown into such a cunning young man, my son."

Telemachus widens his eyes and looks, actually looks at his father. His father is smiling. It's the same smile his father gave him when he came and declared himself as Odysseus, came and accepted Telemachus' challenge, but this time his perspective isn't smothered with bitterness and longing. This time, Telemachus allowed himself to hope and believe that the man, his father, is looking at him with such adoration and unconditional love.

Telemachus opens his arms, and before he could even say anything, his father brings the two of them together in the tightest and warmest hug he's ever experienced.

#and then the two cried loudly like shrieking birds #as they held each other tightly to make up the past 20 years of not being able to hug each other #epic the musical #telemachus epic the musical #odysseus epic the musical #scribbles #epic the musical scribbles #telemachus scribbles #odysseus scribbles #anastasia au #or something like that 🤣#telemachus #odysseus

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irrealisms · 22 hours ago

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Hey so I want to get into lifesteal. I don’t exactly feel like watching hundreds of hours of vods. I did also watch one of the three hour long summaries by one of the members but most of it went right over my head. At this point I’m mainly interested in watching pangi’s and clown’s pov. Could you catch me up with the lore and maybe recommend a few vods?

absolutely!!! the first thing i'll say is that lifesteal is sort of like hermitcraft or the life series (if you're familiar with those), in that it has multiple seasons, each of which is on a different server and comes with new teams/plotlines/builds/etc., although they do sometimes reference past seasons. so if you want to only watch some seasons and not others, that's an option! both pangi and clown joined in s2 and are still members today in s6; clown is imo most famous for his s3, which is where clownzy comes from.

(if you don't want to watch hundreds of hours of vods but don't mind watching like a hundred hours of edited videos i also have playlists of all the edited videos buuuuuut i assume that you do not want to do that either lol. i'll link the playlists of Just clown and Just pangi povs though bc those should b shorter!)

the good news is that clown doesn't really stream and does make edited videos, and pangi is also pretty good at making edited videos. the bad news is that pangi streams a lot. the other good news is that i love Talking About Lifesteal.

uhhhh first off. some edited-video playlists:

clownpierce s2 (11 videos, 2.5 hours)

pangi s2 (2 videos, 15 minutes)

clownpierce s3 (9 videos, 3.5 hours)

pangi s3 (5 videos, 45 minutes)

clownpierce s4 (3 videos, 1 hour)

pangi s4 (10 videos, 2 hours; has some videos not by pangi if they are relevant to pangi's story)

clownpierce s5 (7 videos, 3 hours)

pangi s5 (2 videos, 30 minutes)

[there are no clownpierce videos for s6]

pangi s6 (16 videos, 2.5 hours)

general overviews of the seasons and whether/how much i recommend them:

i quite like clownpierce's s2; it's kinda old and a bit messy, it's from when he and lifesteal really blew up as youtubers, and also from when he was cracked at crystal pvp. he's very involved in the ~main plot, between the M.O.B. (clown's team) and the Poggies (parrot's team). he gets some delightful monologues and fun moments. if you have derangements about Content and Narrative within mcyt the way i do i definitely recommend his s2. pangi ... only joins halfway through s2 and doesn't really do much lol

clownpierce's s3 is REALLY good. there is a reason that clownzy is the #1 lifesteal ship on ao3, and it's because of clown and branzy's s3. i personally prefer branzy pov of s3 tbh but clown pov is also quite good! evil clown runs casino, falls in love, does a lot of scamming and murder. very good imo. pangi's s3 is good but kind of forgettable imo, although it (especially the last video) is good as leadup for...

pangi's s4! once again i REALLY like pangi's s4. (not to brag but you can spot me in the twitch chat of one of his videos.) he gets very involved in the plot this season; he starts shit with the NPPP, clownpierce, and team awesome, in that order, and has a deeply messy relationship with princezam, including "princezam literally flying to the netherlands and using pangi's minecraft account to give pangi's hearts to his enemies", "princezam pretending to be on pangi's side when pangi declares himself king only to actually be double-agenting", and "pangi traps a suicidal princezam in bedrock". love those guys. and pangi's s2-3 (but ESPECIALLY the princezam empire) sets up their friendship a bit more if you end up interested in them! you can skip the valentines date & escape room if you are primarily watching for major plot events, they're very filler-y, but they're a fun time and they were pangi videos from s4 so

clown's s4 is. fine? it's got one video of "this event is also covered in the pangi playlist" (shades vs clown duel) and two videos that are fun for clown but pretty disconnected from The Rest Of The Server. that said if s3 got you invested in clownzy you should check out I Trapped Him In Minecraft's Safest Base. clown basically did not log on for most of s4 and it shows ToT

pangi's s5 is another. it's fine? it's really really short. it is literally two videos. one of my favorite s5 streams that never went anywhere or got made into a video is related to pangi but it, uh, never went anywhere or got made into a video lol. tl;dr: he and zam are teammates this season! for real this time and they aren't going to have a big dramatic breakup!!! this lasts...about half the season until they have a big dramatic breakup (not shown in the youtube videos, which are all set before that). he also got involved in some Dragon Egg Shenanigans and started some shit with subz early-season but nothing huge.

clown gets more involved again in s5! he's not quite as involved as he was in s2-3 but he is There for a lot of stuff: he makes the PMC with Minutetech, Leowook, and Sort Of Branzy, doesn't log on for a while, logs back on to help with the scavenger hunt during void arc (aka "do our scavenger hunt or else we turn all of spawn into void"), and then betrays the PMC for end-of-server. there's some good stuff in there imo.

pangi's s6 is ... mostly just Silly Bits rather than Getting Involved, both in videos and vods. that said it might be worth watching some of it as a realm viewer bc it's the origin of his current bits--eg the therapy thing is a lifesteal s6 original!

in terms of character stuff about the two of them:

with clown there are a couple things i want to talk about. the main thing everyone talks about is clownzy, and i'd also like to talk about the broader phenomenon that creates clownzy, which is that clown really loves having a Little Guy: someone who's kind of pathetic and bad at pvp, so that clown can Protect Them and be a little threatening to them and even more threatening to their enemies. the other thing i want to talk about is actually not clownzy-related? clown likes (and is quite good at!) playing evil menacing villains, but he's in many ways a believer in politeness and fair play; he's a very gracious loser, to the point where lifestealers have said before that they feel kinda bad when they win against him, and he tends to strongly favor fair fights over traps or exploits. which is interesting to me! uhhhh another thing that's interesting is that (as is the case with many/most lifestealers) his videos tend to editorialize; his s3 especially stands out to me for this, for a few moments but one that stands out to me is that when mr. cube successfully rigs the casino against him he just cuts this out of his video even though he's got the moments right before and right after it in his video.

with pangi something that sticks out to me is .... well first of all i could talk about his relationship with zam for aaaaaaages. there's a thing there of. he and zam are quite close ooc, and so zam tends to take him for granted as an ally, even when zam treats him quite poorly and doesn't prioritize him? this was most obvious in s4 but i would say even in s5 when they teamed up again uhhhhhh zam does very much (a) find another team that zam ends up much closer with (b) plan to spawnkill pangi. but pangi's still very much in a position where his strongest/closest relationship is usually zam. there's also a thing where he's currently known as a Silly Lighthearted Bits guy and not someone who gets seriously involved in the LoreTM and i think sometimes people forget that this wasn't always true? but even in s4 when he was much more involved in things there's some level of disconnect; in late s4 there was a lot of "major developments happen while pangi's asleep, the next day zam catches pangi up on everything that happened". and i would also argue that all of this is v related to pangi being european time zone and lifesteal being overwhelmingly american. it's harder for pangi to form strong bonds or get super involved in things when people are just... not online at the same time as him.

uhhhh also if u just want to jump in w s6 u can do that. pangi hasn't had any Big Lore this season you can just start watching him. go for it. clown doesn't really stream it bc he hates us but he hasn't done much in s6 so far so if he starts doing stuff, again, you won't be missing things, u can just jump in

i was going to talk more about the lore for each season beyond whether i recommend it, since you mostly wanted me to give summaries that catch you up, buuuuuut this post is already absurdly long. most of my favorite pangi vods either got made into videos or i mostly enjoy them for other characters (e.g. there are at least three pangi s4 vods i really like because zam is being incredibly suicidal in them lol) BUT. have the princezam-pangi divorce vod from s5 in which zam tries to spawnkill pangi bc zam needs hearts and pangi gets away and then they argue for like an hour. this is the aforementioned stream that never got made into a video. i know it is a zam pov stream but i really like it for pangi as well :3

youtube

if you prefer vods to edited videos and want me to recommend a few others that did make it to videos, or if you want a more in-depth summary of any of the seasons: just send another ask and i will happily yap more!!! this is kinda all over the place bc i'm sick rn but i will do my best. i am torn between "i hope this wasn't too long" and "i am worried it should have been significantly longer in order to actually answer your questions abt lore instead of just linking videos" lol but ! as i said feel free to just, send another ask, u have no idea how excited i was to get this ask, i love talking about lifesteal ^w^

#mcyt #lifesteal #pangi #clownpierce #therapists dni #any british ants in the chat?

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proshippers-against-censorship · 6 hours ago

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Hey all, as a proshipper, I wanted to warn people of the "Clovers" Discord Server on Disboard, they're a group of antis who primarily target young and mentally disabled proshippers to reveal sensitive information before using this, along with false allegations of Neo-Nazism, CSEM, racism, transphobia, etc. to "ruin their lives" for entertainment, including doxxing and spamming these things to their family and friends.

I joined the server a while back, realized they were strange, and stayed so I could lurk to see what they were doing. I've personally witnessed them do this to 3 people, and there is about 7 or 8 more instances I could find while scrolling back through the messages.

I won't say any of the victim's names for obvious reasons, but here's a list of descriptions of the people they targeted and what they did to them:

The first one I witnessed was a trans man around 16 (forgot his exact age) who had ADHD and PTSD if I am remembering correctly. They coaxed him into sending embarrassing videos of him back in 2020 when he was about 12 and cosplaying from what I think was Danganronpa (never played it) to turn around and use them to humiliate him, as well as making disgusting rape jokes about him (despite that he was either a preteen or early teen in the footage), and then go on to accuse him of being a Neo-Nazi, leaking nudes, and being an abuser, claiming he emotionally manipulated one of the moderators (as far as I know, they never even spoke outside of the server). They proceeded to doxx him and spread these allegations to, as far as I know, many of his family members and friends.

The second one I witnessed was a girl who was openly 13 years old, yet was allowed in despite that their server is advertised as being 16+, as well as having pretty severe autism. This girl was actively being groomed online while she was in this server, and they used this against her, making continual horrible jokes about her situation and blaming her for being manipulated, saying that the groomer " was the real victim". They then similarly went on to accuse her of being a Neo-Nazi and a "pedo-baiter", as well as accusing her of distributing CSEM (which, while technically true, they were images of herself she had been manipulated into sending to her groomer, and wasn't out of malicious intent or of other children like they made it out to be). Similarly to the first boy, they spread these allegations to all of her online friends (though did not doxx her).

The third one was not as severe as the other two since I messaged them privately to let them know what they were doing, and they left the server + blocked all of the members before it could go down. He was another boy who claimed to be 16, but I'm pretty sure is only 13-14, and he had Autism and ADHD. They didn't have time to do much to him yet, but they had begun planting the seeds for abuse, asking him to reveal personal information like what city he lived in, his real name, if he wanted to introduce them to his other friends, and childhood stories. Once he left the server, they had a short-lived episode of talking badly about him, encouraging other members to report his account, and trying to contact any of his mutual connections to spread rumors, but dropped it pretty quickly when they realized they didn't have enough information on him to really "ruin" him yet.

Also, keep in mind, the antis running this server are all between 18-27, grown adults, which makes their behavior even worse. Not only are they fully aware of what they're doing, but they intentionally target those significantly younger than them to make the job easier.

For the other 7-8 instances of people I did not witness that I mentioned earlier, they were all basically the same scenarios. Mentally disabled minors between 13-16 being baited into revealing info, just to have their reputations smeared with allegations and inevitably being forced to create new accounts.

They also tend to target other proship servers on Disboard, one example being the "Creepcest" Server, which they continually accuse of being "run by Nazi Pedophiles" and being "a Child-Porn farm" (while I've never joined that server, knowing them, it's most likely just more bullshit allegations), and sending their members off to raid, stalk, and harass the people inside of these servers.

I am still in the Clovers Discord Server, and I intend to keep it that way so I can hopefully, like the third victim, interrupt their plans before they can fully enact them, and I feel terribly guilty that I could not do that to the first 2 I witnessed.

I won't reveal too much information about myself so that, on the chance they see this, they won't be able to remove me from the server. But don't worry about my wellbeing, I am an adult and am not susceptible to any of their abuse; my account is essentially a blank slate with no information to use against me.

Sorry for the text wall, but overall, please stay away from this server. They change their theme quite frequently, so by the time this ask gets submitted, they'll have most likely already changed the name and profile picture, but it's run by 2 users named "Jett" and "Renny". So, if anybody reading this joins a Disboard-advertised Proship Server, and you recognize those people's names, please leave immediately.

Do not argue with them, do not fight with them, just leave. If you stick around, you will become a victim, if you make a scene, you will become a victim, hell, I've seen them flame random people who join and leave without saying a word for no other reason than that they dislike their profile. They love harassing people, they feed off of negativity, their entire server was created for no other reason than to prey on innocent people.

And to anybody reading this who has been in this server before, please reconsider. Ask yourself if these allegations they made are actually real, ask yourself if they're good people, ask yourself if they actually even like you, or if you're just another vulnerable person that they're trolling. They're antis, they're malicious, and they're predators.

Thanks for reading. Once again, sorry for the text wall. Read over this time and time again, tried to summarize it as much as I could, still ended up being pretty long lmao.

That's...terrifying.

#proshippers against censorship #jackal barks #proship please interact #proshippers please interact #proship positivity #proship #proshipper safe #proshipping #proshipper #anti anti #ask #asks #pro stance

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scribescrawls · 3 days ago

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Sentinel as a Foil to Starscream

Though I think the more intentional foils to Sentinel are meant to be Orion/Optimus and D-16/Megatron in terms of the writers' intention, I think in some ways Starscream and Sentinel do foil each other whether the writers intend it or not and I think they have the potential to foil each other in interesting ways in the future too even if Sentinel is dead if they ever explore TFOne Starscream's character more. Now everything I say is mostly interpretation, inference, and headcanons since we had a total of like 5 minutes of screen time for TFOne Starscream lol so I would like to preface that these are just my personal delulu thoughts. I think what's interesting about the potential parallels between Sentinel and Starscream is that in some ways they may share many similarities, but also greatly diverge in other ways. I think they are cut from the same cloth in a lot of ways. For instance, in terms of similarities I think they share traits of being very prideful, arrogant at times, ambitious, scheming, cunning, vain, and inclined more toward self preservation and can have tendencies of self-interest.

It's kind of ironic and funny that one of the major differences between them is loyalty. In most other continuities Starscream is the one betraying leaders to take power for himself, but in this one its Sentinel who does that. And in some ways TFOne Starscream's actions can be interpreted as showing a very strong sense of loyalty to the 13 Primes. Like instead of trying to make any deals with Sentinel to save his own skin he'd rather choose to live 50 cycles in exile on the dangerous surface in terrible conditions with no energon flowing on the planet and being hunted down like animals by both the Quintessons and Sentinel (even after they get caught he instead curses Sentinel and tries threatening him instead of trying to join Sentinel's side to save himself). Not only that but he and the rest of the High Guard are essentially committing guerilla warfare and still trying to sabotage Sentinel even after 50 cycles of these living conditions. I've mentioned it in other posts, but most people do not simply commit guerilla warfare under those conditions for your average deceased leader. To choose to suffer like that I think potentially indicates the possibility that the High Guard and Starscream cared very much for the 13 Primes to keep fighting to avenge them. So in this way I think they foil each other in that Starscream ironically shows great loyalty to the 13 Primes and their memory while Sentinel shows none.

It's also interesting to note that Sentinel criticizes the 13 Primes mentioning his disdain that he spent half the day watching them losing a war and the other watching them waxing poetic about 'loyalty' and 'honor'. Sentinel seems to not have cared at all or at least very little for their cause and for the Primes. Meanwhile Starscream when talking about who they are mentions that they were the High Guard who witnessed Sentinel's betrayal and saw the Primes fall and that they've been doing whatever they can to sabotage Sentinel. Like to hold such anger at the betrayal implies a certain amount of 'loyalty' and 'honor' to either the cause you were all fighting for against the Quintessons, defending Cybertron, or for the 13 Primes themselves or maybe even all of the above. If Starscream and the rest of the High Guard did not care for these things there would be no reason to be so angry and emotional over the betrayal. Because if they do not care for these things why not join Sentinel and the 'winning' side? But they don't and they're full of anger and vengeance so it means they must care a great deal.

Now you might wonder ‘If Starscream was apparently so loyal to the 13 Primes, why did he not follow Optimus and pledge his loyalty to him since he’s the new Prime actually chosen by Primus and holds the Matrix of Leadership as proof to back it up?” And of course this is just my headcanon, but the reason I think Starscream holds no loyalty to Optimus is because to Starscream Optimus from his point of view has not proven himself as a leader worth following and has not done enough to win Starscream’s loyalty in his eyes (I might make a separate post about why Starscream thinks this about Optimus later but this post is already getting very long so I leave that for another time lol, also I would like to note that yes I do personally think Orion was worthy of being a Prime and holding the Matrix but I'm discussing things from specific character perspectives in this post). I feel like to Starscream just having the title of Prime is not enough even if you were chosen by Primus himself. He strikes me as a skeptic who wants to see proof that you deserve the title and are worthy of it before he’s willing to follow you. And considering the movie portrays the 13 Primes in this continuity as honorable leaders who live up to their title and names, I think their deeds and actions proved that they were worthy leaders worth following for Starscream. I think this is one of the potential great contrasts between Starscream and Sentinel in TFOne. Whereas Sentinel’s loyalty will never be to anyone except himself, Starscream’s loyalty is also to himself but it can be extended to others.

However, to gain Starscream’s true loyalty I believe is very difficult but once you have it I think he’d go to great lengths for you even so far as going into exile and using all his wits to scheme/keep you alive/do anything to see your side wins/succeeds. I personally believe that he followed the 13 Primes not because they were Primes but because of who they were as people. So even if Optimus is a true Prime chosen by Primus it means nothing to Starscream. I feel like Starscream is the kind of person who’s audacious enough to tell god to his face that he thinks he made a stupid ass decision if he truly thinks so and will elect to ignore the decision if he disagrees with it. It’s arrogance bordering on hubris that comes with both pros and cons. On one hand, it’s a good thing to not just blindly follow anyone just because they have the title and it’s important that there is someone there who will point out a leader’s blind spots or poor decisions even if the leader most of the time makes good decisions. On the other hand, this arrogance also potentially results in pig headed stubbornness when you’re convinced you’re right even if you’re wrong.

I don’t think Megatron at this point in time has Starscream’s true loyalty either. Not that he’s already planning to betray Megatron since I think he actually believes Megatron has the potential to be a leader worth following, but that Megatron only holds his tentative loyalty. I think Megatron won major points in Starscream’s eyes in succeeding to kill Sentinel but I think Starscream will only follow Megatron so long as he deems Megatron is living up to his role as leader and I think unlike other members of the High Guard he’s the most skeptical and critical of Megatron’s inexperience in war and leadership even if he holds belief in Megatron’s potential at the same time.

This is not to say that I think Starscream is incapable of betrayal. I think he very much is but I think the reasons that would push this version of Starscream to betray someone are different. I think the reason why TFOne Starscream never tried to betray the 13 Primes to gain power in this version is because he saw no reason to. Yeah you guys haven't won the war against the Quintessons, but if the leaders are competent and you care about them and they care about you, you feel like you're all in this together and have a good work environment. I don't think Starscream was unambitious, I think he was very ambitious considering he made it all the way to leader of the High Guard, but I like to think he was satisfied with his life pre-Sentinel betrayal and therefore had nothing larger to prove as he'd accomplished a lot at that point. Leader of the High Guard working directly with the Primes, known as legendary warriors and defenders of Iacon, and noteworthy enough that you are recorded in history in the archives that Orion notes he read about them and Bee knows them both by name and face to be able to point them out individually from each other. It is prestigious even if the job may be dangerous.

And even the Decepticon logo in my opinion has a very personal meaning for the High Guard different than for Megatron/D-16. Because to the High Guard Megatronus Prime was not just a figure they heard great stories about. Megatronus was someone they probably fought side by side with, someone they knew personally. They probably talked with Megatronus, made jokes together, shared meals while out on campaign fighting Quintessons, risked their lives in battle fighting together. To them having Megatronus' face branded on them is probably not simply the way a fan picks their favorite superhero as their logo for a movement, rather to the High Guard the action to them probably feels closer to remembering a beloved deceased friend and comrade-in-arms they admired. The branding mark probably symbolizes multiple meanings for them. For many it probably also symbolizes how they'll never forget him and will always remember him carrying him with them in every battle. And I personally don't think this contradicts them believing the age of Primes is over. I think for the High Guard they hold a certain reverence for the original 13 Primes and only the original 13 Primes. But the "Age of Primes" for them has ended because their leaders/friends are all dead and are never coming back.

I think one interesting angle they could potentially go with if Starscream decides to betray Megatron and try to kill him in the future is if he thinks Megatron’s way of leadership and decision making down the line have become a threat to Starscream's life and the lives of others under his command. Because the High Guard have been fighting together long before the start of the movie I think it opens for the fun possibility that Starscream cares about the members of the High Guard to a degree and there is a certain bond that forms from spending so much time fighting side by side together even if you may get on each others' nerves at times. Therefore I think it'd be interesting if he betrays Megatron trying to kill him in a warped way of trying to save both himself and those he cares for. A 'you're going to get us all killed and I won't wait around for it to happen. I did not spend 50 cycles trying to keep as many people alive for you to throw it all away' sentiment.

It would even be more gut-wrenching if in the beginning of them working together Megatron and Starscream had grown to have a somewhat amicable working relationship with Starscream as a mentor-like figure guiding him and they became almost somewhat friends before things start devolving and fracturing as time passes. Starscream thinking something along the lines of 'It's simple math. You kill one to save the larger number of people even if it hurts to do so. Someone has to make the ruthless and hard decisions. There's no room for sentimentality in war. I have to think of the bigger picture.' And even worse if the betrayal and attempt to kill Megatron fails and Megatron feels like he got betrayed by someone close to him again thinking Starscream is just like Sentinel trying to gain power and leadership for his own selfish ambitions and vanity. Meanwhile Starscream feeling like he's been driven to a point where he has to go to extremes because he thinks Megatron won't listen to anyone but himself and thinks Megatron is blinded by selfish personal desires like Sentinel that led to Cybertron being almost doomed because of shortsightedness throwing away lives of their own troops for little gain just like Sentinel did. Sentinel being the ghost who haunts their narrative and plays on both their traumas of the ways Sentinel's betrayal affected them warping their perceptions of each other. For Megatron it's being betrayed by someone who he thought was on his side again/trusted, while Starscream feels Megatron will doom them and the entire planet through his reckless and shortsighted plans to feed his own personal selfish desires/grudges. Large parts of both their personalities differ from Sentinel, but I think if things hit this breaking point they will only interpret each other's behavior through a 'Sentinel lens' if that makes sense seeing only the worst parts of each other.

I got a little sidetracked lol, but back to Sentinel and Starscream being foils I think even the ways their vanity is displayed demonstrate their differences. Sentinel has his statues of himself and Starscream has a whole throne built for himself. They both show signs of vanity and self-importance. However, Sentinel's statues are pristine golden statues essentially obtained through selling out your own species to the enemy for short term gains by truly bowing to the enemy. Meanwhile Starscream's throne is a made of what looks like scrap metal in a dilapidated ship because he chose exile over bowing to Sentinel or the Quintessons. TFOne Sentinel and TFOne Starscream have the potential to be really fun explorations of characters who on the surface may be very alike but in certain core aspects are so different. I hope this adequately answered your ask!

#transformers #transformers one #tf one #starscream #tf one starscream #sentinel prime #tf one sentinel prime #tf one spoilers #transformers one spoilers #tf one megatron #megatron #thirteen primes #long post #tf one high guard #tf one optimus #headcanon #anon ask #anonymous

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roboticchibitan · 2 days ago

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Send Help I started writing a story based on a dream I had last week and I'm Actually Insane about these characters in a way I'm not about any of my other characters cuz APPARENTLY "old lovers meet again and suddenly it's like nothing has changed, despite everything" is fuckin CATNIP to me. I did not know this about myself but FUCK

The dynamic is "You are the person who knows me best in the entire world, but I can't tell you a thing about me. I spent five minutes in your company and feel irresistibly drawn to you like I'm 20 years old again. You represent freedom to me, something I've never had." and "I was angry when I learned you hid our child from me, but I spent five minutes in your company and couldn't stay mad. You are the one that got away, the one who represents my greatest regret in life that I want to make right. I've thought about you every single day for 16 years. I want to be the gentleness you've never had and a family you can trust."

Insane I'm telling you. Insaaaane.

#the spy and the duke #my writing

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demonic-presence · 3 days ago

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Wahoo stats!! Thanks for the tag <3

Age: 16!

Height: 4''8

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Confidence: Irl, like 3. Online, like 9 or so ig :D

Happiness: also like 7/10ish! Lower because my routine is a mess right now

Gender: Girlflux, sort of? Or maybe gender fluid? Idk man

Sexuality: Abrosexual!!

Relationship Status: :)

Fav Food: gimmie burritos.... all of them...

Fav Show: ARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANEARCANE

Fav Movie: Legally blonde! 10 things I hate about you is another comfort movie

Fav Song: Absence by Rio Romeo

Fav Artist: ORLA GARTLAND YUGBHU

Fav Colour: Help my personality is built around the color red but I think I actually love orange and yellow more now

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Followers: I have absolutely no clue this is the first time i've opened tumblr in weeks

No tags today <3

End of year stats!

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backseatsoldier · 10 hours ago

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"Broken", Not Stupid - 16: I Am Broken

Pairing: alpha!Simon "Ghost" Riley x unusual omega!OC (13)

CW: Omegaverse; dehumanization; beginnings of an anxiety attack, though it's not labeled as such; some negative self-talk (13)

Author's Note: Ok... one more then we'll get into 13 starting to spill the beans. She'll be ok - Simon's there now! I think I'm going to pause on 13's story for a bit, though. I've got things brewing about other OCs so I'm gonna get started on their stories uwu <3

When I open my eyes again... my head is still on Simon's lap. I adjust carefully so I can look up at him. His eyes are closed and his head is resting on the back of the couch.

"Simon," I call to him softly. "Hey," I say a bit louder and poke the center of his chest.

His lashes flutter and he opens his eyes. With a groan, he tilts his head to look down at me.

"What's wrong?" he asks in a voice rough with sleep.

"The way you're sleeping, mostly. C'mon. We should both go to bed."

As I sit up Simon's hand snakes around my waist, but over his blanket.

"No," he mumbles, "stay here."

What the hell is he on about? Damn, he needs more sleep.

"Simon," I call to him louder. "Wake up."

I reach out and gently poke his cheek through his mask. His eyes open wide at the contact and his breathing gets heavier. Slowly, with a shocked expression of my own, I slowly pull my hand away from his face.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to... freak you out. You ok?" I ask with a gentle voice.

"Fine," he says, shaking his head then letting out a heavy sigh. "Just not used to people touching my face."

"Right. Fair enough," I agree then get up from the couch to make my way to my room.

The smell of pancakes cooking wakes me in the morning. As I roll to get out of bed, though, I nearly roll on to Selene. She yawns at my sudden intrusion then gets up to stretch.

"Good morning to you too." I smile at her then run my hand over her back and up her tail, causing a small chirp to leave her. "I smell pancakes... but do you think your dad is making more bacon too?"

She blinks slowly at me in response and I give her a quiet laugh then truly make my way out of bed. When I reach the kitchen I pause in the archway for a moment.

Johnny's here. Making breakfast. And Simon's nowhere to be seen.

"Lass! Good morning! Simon had to run to grab a few things to make sure all five of us would be fed properly today," he chuckles then yawns. "I knew he'd call me over early so I showed up a few hours early. Hope you don't mind?"

"Not my house," I shrug and step up to the counter I continue to sit on while Simon cooks.

"Isn't it?" Johnny asks with a smile as his focus returns to the pancakes.

Unsure what he means by that, I hop on the counter and change the subject.

"So... what are the other two like?"

"Other two? Oh, you mean Cap and Kyle? Cap's a bit of a, uh," he leans towards me, like he's sharing a secret, "workaholic. I'll have to make some strong coffee all day to make sure he stays awake," he chuckles then straightens. "Kyle is a secret trouble maker, but he's a sweet heart. Would adopt and love all the kittens in the world, if given the chance, I think."

"What do you mean 'secret trouble maker'?" I push with an eyebrow raised.

"He's not as open about his chaotic nature as I am," Johnny says with a wink.

I nod, accepting his answer and glance around the kitchen. The kitchen feels... weird... without Simon here.

"Missing him?" Johnny asks suddenly with his eyes on the pancakes but a knowing smile on his face.

"Who?"

"Your alpha. Who else?" he asks with a laugh.

"My... hm. Well, is he, though? We haven't really... discussed any of that," I admit with a slight frown.

"You knew who I meant, though." He's got this smug look on his face, like he's just outwitted someone.

"Johnny, besides you, Simon's the only person I've actually met in the area," I remind him flatly.

Johnny's smug looks falters.

"True. Didn't think about that. I wanna go back to what you said, though. Haven't discussed what?"

"Him officially being my alpha and all that. I tried to initiate the conversation last night but I mentioned-"

My mouth snaps shut, remembering Simon's reaction to how Salvation handled the heats of the omegas they care for.

"I mentioned some things about Salvation and heats, but he... didn't take it well. Sliced his finger and just seemed so angry," I explain with a frown. "After we cleaned up the cut and I banaged it, he told me that all three of you would be here today. That all of you would listen to my story."

He stays silent for a while, removing pancakes from the pan and adding new batter.

"I won't ask for specifics. I'm sure I'll hear about it at some point, but, lass." He turns to me fully. The expression on his face reminds me of a puppy. "We're here for you. All of us - me, Cap, Kyle, and epsecially Simon. And there will be more on that list when you're ready."

Part of me wants to argue, but the rest of me just can't deny the adorable face he's making. So I sigh and nod my head.

"I appreciate it. I don't understand why that needs to be said, but I do appreciate it," I tell him softly and pick at the hem of the shirt of Simon's that I wore to bed last night.

"What's wrong, 13?" Simon says from the front door.

I can't see him and I can't smell him, but that was definitely his voice. Johnny smiles at me and nods in that direction so I slide off the counter and make my way to the front door.

There's multiple grocery bags hanging off of both of Simon's arms and I have to supress a laugh at the sight of him.

"What's wrong?" he asks again, voice serious.

"Nothing. Was just talking to Johnny. Let me take a few bags," I insist as I reach for his left arm.

"It'll put me off balance. I've got it," he says as he pulls his arm away. "Thank you, though," he adds like it's an after thought.

Then he shoos me to the living room as he makes his way to the kitchen. When he's done putting away the groceries, he joins me.

"Why did you think something was wrong?" I ask immediately from underneath the blanket he let me use last night.

"I could smell your distress," he says simply as he motions for me to come closer.

Confused, I slide closer and lay on my back with my head on his lap.

"You could... smell- I wasn't distressed, though." I frown up at him as his hand begins smoothing my hair back.

"You can't smell anything. Can you?" he asks softly.

"I can smell the pancakes just fine."

"I mean others' scents. You can't smell others. At least not well."

I consider what he's asking. It took being right up to him or wearing his clothes for me to know what he smelled like. Cinnamon and cedar, I can smell it now. But I don't know what Johnny smells like. And I couldn't tell him what anyone else smells like either.

"13," he calls to me and gently turns my head so I look directly at him. "What's going through your head?"

"I'm broken," I say softly. "I always knew I was, but... you're right. I can't smell anyone. I can only smell you if I'm close, like right now, or wearing something that you give me. I don't know what Johnny smells like-"

"Take a deep breath. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Do it with me," he instructs and begins doing so.

My eyes prick with tears but I follow his lead. When my eyes no longer hurt and my chest doesn't feel like there's cement in it, he speaks again.

"You're not broken, sweetheart. You've just been through things; a lot of things, I'm sure. Those things have not been kind to you. But I'm here to help you now. I'm here," he assures me, his hand still gently gliding over my hair. "Why you don't take a nap while we wait for the others? I'll stay right here with you, if you want."

His offer is tempting, but doesn't he have things he needs to do before Kyle and 'Cap' arrive?

"I think I'd rather shower then just... exist on the couch for a while. Until they get here. Selene can keep me company when I come back out."

Simon studies me for a moment and lets out a heavy breath.

"Alright, but if I detect even a hint of your distress, I'm either kicking down whichever door or coming back out here and-"

"Are you about to threaten me, the distressed omega?" I ask with a small smile.

"Yes," he nods. "I'm threatening you with being held and comforted."

Oh. That's... a different feeling. Set that aside for later, though...

For now I just get up, leaving the balnket on the couch, and make my way back to my room to gather clothes. I catch a glimpse of Johnny in the kitchen on my way through the house. He looks... so sad, but his focus is on the pancakes.

What I went through when I was with Salvation... was it really that bad?

Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | Part One

Tag List: @lucienofthelakes @lostintransist @demothers-empty-blog @scaredyspooks @tessakate @one-really-annoying-tree-rat @nerdyphantomtheorist @gazsluckyhat @peanutismynickname @jeanzoriley-cod

#backseat soldier #rhi_writing_adventures #call of duty #cod #original character #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x oc #simon riley x oc #simon ghost riley x oc #cod omegaverse #omegaverse #“Broken” Not Stupid #BNS #don't drink the kool aid #it was actually flavoraide but that's not the point

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