#american teenagers — au

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

action ready

[tizeline]

Sorry, he's an only child, he never learned how to share </3

[semisomnosres]

Randy was accepted into the hom team:

✧author AU-@drawnfamiliarfaces I’ve been wanting to draw something with them for a long time, but I never got around to it, and when I saw this scene in Hazbin, I couldn’t help but want to edit it

[xoxostilinski]

Fuck me like you mad at me baby 😝❤️‍🔥

[azucar-skull]

The golden 4 of drawing ASL for comics

*I am not Deaf, CODA, or a licensed interpreter. That being said, I took all level classes and practice regularly. So while I can get a license...idk I just don't feel like it lol. I got a speech disorder so that's why I learned it.

That being said, I'm pretty sure I know what I'm doing--

1) Staging

Most comic artists are aware when you draw 2 people talking, you gotta stage it so that the last thing person A says flows into the first thing person B says. This staging makes the interaction feel more natural and lively.

Same rule applies to ASL. The last thing person A signs should flow into the first thing person B signs.

2) Grammar

ASL is its own language, not a word-by-word cipher! It has its own directs, styles, and grammar rules. Here's a chart:

So in that case, you must understand how an English sentence is written in ASL. And THEN determine what is the REAL last sign of person A and first sign of person B.

Much better!

3) Emphasis

Given the context, the same sentence can be said very differently. Usually we yell louder when the context is more urgent or exciting.

Same applies to ASL. Our signs become more expressive depending on the context. Don't forget that facial expressions play a role in grammar!

4) Style

Everyone 👏 signs 👏 differently! 👏 If you've met one Deaf person, you've met one Deaf person. Each ASL user has/will have their own unique style. Heck, there’s a thing called Black ASL which is derived of stylized signs used in Black Deaf culture.

Take the time to know your characters. Their personality, their culture, their environment, and how they learned ASL to begin with. These factors will help each of your characters stand out a bit more and make their signing fit their traits.

In the end, here's the improvement:

It doesn’t take much to do it right. We are blessed (and cursed) to have the internet where any information you need is at your fingertips, reference multiple sources too. Hope this helps!

Commissions // Ko-Fi Tip Jar // Top Surgery GoFundMe

[violettwrites]

american teenagers — a daryl dixon au

the summer of 1987.

intro

one

two

[nani-nonny]

Ch.14: Hamato Cooldown - (Accidentally) Played American Football With My Newborn

I’m tired! :D but I opted out of doing a double upload because we’ve waited long enough for this chapter. It’s pretty tame and chill, full of soft moments that will prep us for the next three chapters :)

F!Leo near the end of the chapter:

“Anyway, I better get this one home. See ya, Boxman.”

“No! No no no no no no…!”

“Yess~.”

Tell me it doesn’t parallel:

“Well, you heard the ‘Big Man’. And it’s about time I tuck this little one in for bedtime.”

Did I mean to do this? No, but it fits well :D

[viviennewestwooddoll]

I Hope You Had The Time Of Your Life Ch. 1

BSD High School AU

title stole from Green Day

wc: 3k

dt to hannah for proofreading and helping me make the character sheets for this

don't take anything i write serious this was purely made for comedy lol

Tags: crack fic, high school au, slowburn kinda?, minors using substances (weed and alcohol), brain rot, american hs experience, me projecting

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Summer had passed by, memories of the season drifting afar. Which in turn, means the students of Yokohama high school were set to return on the first of September. Obviously, nobody was excited. 

Atsushi Nakajima had spent his summer slaving away at Chick Fil A. The pay was terrible, but he wasn't in it for the money. Moreso, on the last day, Kunikida Doppo, his upperclassman, ranted to him about the importance of staying busy over the summer for colleges to see, and how good it would look on his transcript.

“Atsushi, you cannot fall into lazy patterns over the summer. You don't want to be unemployed like Dazai,” he said, sneering at the man who lazily laid in the courtyard during their lunch break. 

“Kunikida, not everyone wants to spend their life working for someone, I have the rest of my life to want to kill myself from working a 9-5, so let me be a bum a bit until then, mkay?” Dazai said smugly without even bothering to look up

Before Kunikida could even respond to Dazai by yelling, Atsushi interrupted.

“Okay fine, I need extra cash anyways,” he said, thinking of all the Chazuke he could buy that summer. 

Atsushi's first mistake was believing Kunikida when he said it was a good job. The amount of times he worked longer than minors were even allowed to, waking up at 6 AM on a saturday to get to work by 7, and standing under the scorching sun with a  stupid smile plastered on his face made him want to just throw off his namepin and quit. But, he enjoyed the routine in a way. Despite the annoyances of rude customers and such, he enjoyed having a purpose and working towards something, in this case his $7/hour pay (money is money) and did not want to be rotting his summer away. 

Unfortunately for him, when Dazai found out his schedule, he would never know peace again. 

“Hey Atsushi,” Dazai once slurred. 

It was almost 10 PM on a Friday, and Dazai appeared beside Chuuya Nakahara in his red camry, who seemed aggravated. 

“Im high as fuck” Dazai said slowly, grinning. 

Atsushi stood there, petrified, what was he supposed to do? He couldn't just yell at Dazai for bothering him at work, especially since he was under the influence, because his boss will definitely see and fire him for “not putting the customer first”, then call the cops on Dazais since he was a minor and reeking of weed. 

“I'm sorry Atsushi,” Chuuya said, giving him a sympathetic look. “He was pissing me off and said he said he would shut up once he had Chick-Fil-A, never thought you worked here or I wouldn't have taken him here. Probably McDonalds or Cookout.”

“Are you..” Atusshi asked, confused if Chuuya was driving while stoned.

Chuuya smirked, “Fuck yeah, but my tolerance is better than this motherfucker,” he said, pointing to Dazai staring straight and laughing at nothing. 

Atsushi stood meekly with the tablet, unsure how to handle this.

“Um okay, what do you want?” He sighed.

“I'll get the grilled sandwich and a diet lemonade, coach is making us cut since the season is about to start,” Chuuya said flatly as he rolled his eyes.

“Yo Dazai, what do you want? Don’t drain my wallet–the auto shop doesn't pay me as much as you think,” Chuuya said as he turned to Dazai, who Atsushi was now concerned for if he was greening out or not.

“Atsushi, what's the cheapest thing you have here?” Dazai said, suddenly focused.

“Probably a kids meal,” Atsushi said, as he added a 5 ct nugget with a toy.

“Okay, get me that. And then get me 20 more of those.” Dazai said, giggling like a little school girl. 

“WHAT THE-” Chuuya angrily turned, screaming at the man.

Atsushi stood awkwardly, watching the scene of Chuuya strangling Dazai. They argued whether or not Dazai would get 20 kids' meals, then if Dazai would get to keep all 20 toys. Before they could kill each other, he butted in.

“You do realize we close in five? If you both want food, its a yes or no-”

“YES,” Dazai screamed as he leaned over Chuuyas seat to submit the order through Atushi’s tablet.

“THERES NO FUCKING WAY YOU DID THAT– DUMBASS BITCH YOU’RE PAYING FOR YOUR SHIT”

Atushsi rolled his eyes, submitting the order as he swiped Chuuyas card, going to warn his co workers or the 100 nuggets they would prepare in 5 minutes (he would be outcast for weeks because of this incident). 

School was on the cusp of starting, leaving Atsushi dreading balancing work and his academics as well as lacrosse.

As he watched the mindless tiktoks Dazai sent him which rotted his attention span and brain capacity, he saw that Tanizaki had texted him through Snap. 

heluvsnaomi: hey atsushi

beastbeneaththesheets: yea?

heluvsnaomi: you got your schedule yet? Mine is so bad bro

beastbeneaththesheets: damn i didnt even check

beastbeneaththesheets: shit mines bad, i have foods, math 2, biology but then journalism so W

heluvsnaomi: ok we have our last two together at least lets go

heluvsnaomi: is akutagawa in any of your classes?

Atsushi scoffed, remembering whose name that belonged to.

 Akutagawa was the most miserable person he knew. He has stupid headphones on at all times; Atsushi once peeked over to see who was playing and Akutagawa glared at him, then showed up the next day with a privacy screen. That really pissed Atsushi off. It's not like he's asking him his deepest secret, he was just curious to what bands someone as moody as Akutgawa would like. He’s very antisocial and uncomfortable to talk to. Atsushi had tried to get to know him, and was rudely ignored by him. After that, Atsushi had a grudge towards him, to which Junichiro agreed was valid. When he brought up his name in a rant to Dazai as they did their daily Fortnite grind, Dazai laughed, saying he used to “bully the shit out of him” in middle school. Even though Akutagawa was rude, Atsushi couldn't help but feel bad. To which extent, Dazai admitted calling him emo and teasing him for his hobbies, which Atushsi disapproved of making someone feel ashamed for being passionate in their interests. 

beastbeneaththesheets: fuck let me check

Atsushi logged onto canvas, praying he would never interact with Akutagawa again. But to his dismay, he wouldn't achieve this dream. 

Foods 2: Akutagawa Ryunosuke 

Math 2: Akutagawa Ryunosuke 

Biology Honors: Akutagawa Ryunosuke 

Of course he's in every one of my classes, the white haired boy thought to himself. He sighed, screenshotting and sending it to both Dazai and Tanizaki. This better be a filler year I swear. Unfortunately for Atsushi, he never did quite get what he wanted. 

At 6:30 AM, Atsushi Nakajimas alarm went off. He got ready with his new clothes he had gotten for his back to school shopping, and prepared his bag with his charged chromebook. He waited at the bus stop, getting ready to close his eyes for a bit before he saw Tanizaki. 

“Yo Atsushi!” the orange haired man waved to him. Atsushi smiled, taking a seat with him. 

“Hey man, how’ve you been? Haven't seen you since that party Yosano threw for the fourth of July,” Atsushi said as he threw his bag on the floor. 

“You know the usual,” he said with a shrug, as if it was a cue, his weird sister Naomi came to hug him from behind. They were very close, and Tanizaki pushed her off. Atsushi smiled awkwardly, nodding towards her. 

I need off this bus, he thought to himself. 

As the bus approached his school, Atsushi walked with Tanizaki, Naomi now chatting with their fellow classmate Haruno. 

“I don't know what I'm gonna do, Akutagawa is in every single class except journalism, but usually journalism will only ever be us,” Atsushi sighed. 

“That sucks, I'd actually fight my counselor,” Tanizaki laughed. 

“Right ugh, I guess I’ll see you at lunch though right? Kunikida has lunch with us too, so that's good at least.” Atsushi asked.

“The courtyard right?” Tanizxaki asked as he approached his class.

Atusshi nodded, parting ways with him. He just had to thug out this semester, and he would be fine. It's not like he would be interacting with Akutagawa at every given moment of the day, right? 

Atsushi walked in, recognizing everyone that he hadn't seen since last year. Being a student council officer (another role that was forced upon him) had its perks, he had to interact with everyone and learned a bit of each student. He had class, of course with Yosano and Ranpo. Both were the most unserious duo he knew. Ranpo often offended teachers with his backtalk, and would always go to the office but of course, since he had fostered a close relationship with Fukuzawa, he was able to talk him out of any trouble with the principal Natsume; he never got in any actual trouble. His fat ass was always eating in the back of classes, at least Atsushi assumed he was. Ranpo was super smart, having taken all AP classes the school provided, never interacting with Atsushi last year because of that, as well as for the former being a freshman while the latter being a junior. He had met him in journalism, which Dazai convinced him to join when he came to represent the class as a promoter, prompting the incoming freshman to join, successfully persuading Atsushi. The class was nothing like Dazai said it was, being more grueling and on a time crunch rather than the “filler block” Dazai promised (maybe for him it was, since all he did was sleep in the room that contained the computers to edit and archives of the newspaper spanning to the 70s). Despite that, he loved the class, meeting his closest friends, as well as gaining a new sense of confidence from being forced to interact with all types of students, making him sure of himself. Ranpo was the opinion editor, a filling role for him since he always had something to say. In fact, Atsushi's first day of journalism in which he pitched his ideas for the paper had Ranpo telling him “his idea was shit” without a stutter. Atsushi almost quit right there. He could contribute the least, yet always have the most popular page.  That was Ranpo for you, being naturally talented in creating eye-catching visuals and attention-grabbing headlines. Then there was Yosano, his partner in crime. She was one of the most blunt people Atsushi knew, circling such minor mistakes such as expletives on a paper, and making Atsushi feel self conscious of his writing. Outside the class though, she was a raging party girl, in which her private spam “yosanoandranpolovealcohol” had fostered a series of (mainly) Yosano drunkenly singing or doing insane things that cannot be mentioned. She was never one to back down from someone picking on the underclassmen, having argued with their classmates for being rude to Atsushi when he was more shy.  For that, Atsushi respected her.

“Hey Atsushi,” Yosano called out to him. “Haven't seen you since Fourth of July!” 

Atushsi smiled, approaching their station. 

“How do you even remember that? Me and Poe had to drag you upstairs before you barfed and embarrassed yourself,” Ranpo snickered, eating their materials to cook for the day. 

Yosano glared at him. “Its called high toleranc-” this time Atsushi laughed. 

“Sorry Yosano, I didn't take you to have a high alc tolerance,” Atsushi snorted. 

“Just wait until I get your first draft, Atsushi,” she said, staring at him with a straight face.  

Atsushi’s eyes widened, now walking towards his own station fearing for his safety. 

He continued scoping the room, seeing randoms, as well as Tachihara and Motojiro Kaji, the latter his upperclassman Yosano swore to murder, in which she retold a story from freshman year of him saying they failed a lab because Yosano “was a stupid girl who couldn't follow instructions”.  Needless to say, Kaji and Yosano were both sent to the office that day from broken beakers and spilled chemicals. Tachihara, on the other hand, was in his grade. He was always stoned, being the epitome of the word stoner. He was always in the stalls, his fryd bar masking any smell in the bathroom, but Atsushi didn't think it smelt any better than that. Everyone knew that if you wanted a smoke, all you had to do was slide up in his DMS and you could get high faster than Kaji exploded that lab. He was loud, often hanging around Chuuya, so it didn't take one too long to consider what Nakahara did in his free time. Despite that, he was rather chill, but Atsushi didn't really care much for him. 

Then he spotted that messy black hair, with a case of a badly cut fringe. Ryunosuke Akutagawa. Atsushi sighed, glaring at him as he walked in. He can't forget the time he offered him a bracelet for student council and Akutagwa said no, purposely bumping into him to spill the entire basket of dozens of bracelets

Sitting at a random table by himself, Atushsi smirked, seeing that he had no friends. Serves him right for being so moody. As the teacher walked in, she saw that everyone was sitting in whatever seat. Sighing, she clapped her hands, grumbling how nobody paid attention to the name tags she had placed on each table. Looking around, he saw Tachihara nodding at Yosano, trading with her so she didn't have to sit next to Kaji since her assigned seat would have been there, fearing for an incident that would leave his friend in the office again, as well as just wanting to have a familiar face rather than listen to Ranpo be a know-it-all. 

So whos sitting next to m-

Akutagawa Ryunosuke, 10th Grade

Atusushi groaned, seeing Akutagawa approach him, refusing to make eye contact. As the teacher began her introduction, she moved onto actually instructing them to cook.

Atsushi nudged Akutagawa. “So you going to listen, or am I gonna cook for both of us,” he said solemnly. 

“I can figure it out myself, how hard is cooking anyways?”

Well apparently impossible. 

Akutagawa managed to make something that crossed a biohazard and chemical waste, how? Atsushi couldn't tell you. 

“Dude! You used all our materials! We’re so cooked we couldn't even redo it because class is over. I told you to let me help you, I actually listened to her instructions unlike you!” He practically yelled, garnering everyone's attention. 

“Like I would trust any food you make. You wouldn't do any better than me anyways,” Akutagawa said, rolling his eyes. 

“Aight bet, tomorrow I'm going to make the best food you've had–hell I make nuggets for Chick Fil A! I definitely know how to cook more than you. Pissing me off, got an F on the first day,” Atushsi said angrily, purposely bumping into his headphones to knock him off the table. 

Before Akutagawa could yell at him, he leaves class, power walking to English. 

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. He had English with Akutagawa– Gin that is. She was much more tolerable than her brother, being concerned with Higuchi on whatever superficial thing was relevant to them, gossiping while typing furiously on their phones. He had some acquaintances that he had in classes before sitting with them. Biology with Tanizaki was boring. They received an “All About Me” packet, filling it out as they discussed meaningless topics to pass time. Then came journalism.

Atsushi walked in to see Yosano sitting with Ranpo, both drinking an energy drink. Just by their energy, Atsushi could tell they had senioritis and were checked out. Walking in with Atsushi was Edgar Allen Poe. He was a strange one, hair covering his eyes. If you told anyone he was the editor in chief last year they would be shocked. He had a vision for the paper that always executed well, and was one of the best writers Atsushi knew, but his confidence didn't match his skill set. He seemed as if he was worried what everyone thought of him at all times, staying quiet and leaving 0 presence in a room. Despite Atsushi being his junior by two years, he always seemed anxious when Atsushi read his work. Which Atsushi didn't understand, he could make an article of redoing the parking lot the best written on the page. He sat with Ranpo and Yosano, both loudly greeting him and showing him some TikTok they were giggling over. 

In the corner sitting on a hightop table was Kunikida, furiously typing away at a schedule to release each article. “Boy, hurry. We're behind schedule already. If we want to stay on track, brainstorming needs to be done by tomorrow.”

Dazai, sitting on the couches centered in the room, snorted. “Kunikida, when have we ever printed on time?” 

Atsushi sat next to the tall brunette, relaxing into the seat. Atsushi always loved how this class mimicked a family, everyone being comfortable enough to be themselves. The classroom was set up differently than the standard sterile class, having the big lights off with fairy lights, a candle burning, and couches alongside posters. The teacher, Fukuzawa, had invested towards his students feeling like this could be their safe space. He obviously succeeded, having a dozen or so students in this class that refused to drop the class even if it messed up their schedule. 

Fukuzawa welcomed the class back, which usually never changed its lineup since it was just returners. “I'm glad to have you all back, I’m sure we can guarantee that we will outdo the yearbook in popularity again,” he announced.

Everyone cheered, determined to outdo their rivals. Mori Ougai had advised the class, taking it up after working at the school long enough as the nurse. Atsushi had a personal vendetta against them, trying to force an interview on him for Fitzgerald’s finance class he took last year, finding out the former had bribed the yearbook with donations if they got a whole spread towards students hyping the class to encourage more to join. And who was forcing said interview on him? Akutagawa, of course. 

“I'm sure I can expect great things from you all,” Fukuzawa continued. “But for today, we will just get to the standard ‘welcome back’ nonsense despite the fact we all know each other,” he said smiling lightly. “For the sake of an easy first day—but don't expect to slack again after today,” he said, eyeing Dazai, making Atsushi snicker.   

For the rest of class, Atsushi just caught up with his friends. Atsushi discussed his work schedule with Kunikida, and picked up on conversations of Ranpo and Poe discussing a new mystery novel, while Yosano harassed Tanizaki with videos of him at the party she hosted. Dazai did his usual: napping in the backroom, before Kunikida could drag him out for making a bed out of previous papers they had worked on. 

Atsushi thought to himself that he wouldn't trade this class for the world, smiling as he imagined how this school year could go. Unfortunately for him, this is as peaceful as it will get.

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[phantomdoofer]

Masterpost with all three.

[elijones94]

🌻 Young Pepa 🌼

[its-wabby-stuff]

The purple one.

Other options, and the twin.

Uncommon Swaps

[enthblaze]

lmao fuck roadtrips around america fics, im gonna make the CBAU turtle fam go to the UK bc ive camped in Wales and i want them to camp in Wales too

[mateushonrado]

Status Post #11280 (reblog): The nine heroes of Nickelodeon, Disney Channel and Cartoon Network from 2002 to 2014.

i was a (pre)teen hero once, but then i took some trauma to my psyche

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

cw: modern au, chronic pain, alcohol, smoking

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 3.2k words

Remus is quiet the next day at practice. Or maybe that’s only in your head. After all, it’s not like he can just shout across the ice at you like he used to at home, not with the rink packed with a dozen other figure skaters practicing before their events today and tomorrow. Maybe it’s only easier for you to imagine he feels as confused and conflicted as you do. 

Evidently you’d been wrong about the feelings between Remus and Sirius. Or if you were right, Remus hasn’t taken notice of it himself yet. But perhaps it’s not your place to assume that you know what he wants. As you learned last night, you don’t even know what you want. 

You didn’t realize how badly you’ve been wanting to kiss Remus until he did it for you. Your mind emptied out and your body reacted like it had been waiting for years, desperate to feel him, to learn all of him, with your mouth and your hands and the press of your nose against his cheek. Your skin became more sensitive than it’s ever been under his touch. You’ve never felt more aware of your body than you are on the ice, but Remus ignited something different in you. The softest press of his hand made you want to bend and mold yourself to his liking. 

Ordinarily, you’d be desperate to tell Sirius. He’s your best friend, your partner, he’s known about every crush you’ve had since you were teenagers. But when you woke up this morning, thought about seeing him and divulging every detail from the night before, something odd and unpleasant curdled in your gut. 

You’ve never had the urge to keep secrets from Sirius before. But this, you find, you don’t want him to know. It makes you feel sick even now, going in and out of turns with him while Remus watches you both from outside the boards. Watching your best friend look at you like everything is normal, with all the trust in the world, and knowing that you’re keeping this from him. 

You feel guilty, though you don’t know why. And you don’t know if it’s for kissing Remus or for letting Remus kiss you. All you know is that suddenly whenever Sirius looks at you, you feel like you’re holding his heart in your hands, and you aren’t certain you can be trusted with it. 

“The American is looking at you,” Sirius says as you finish your routine. 

You glance behind you, catching the eyes of another skater before he looks away. Your face heats. 

“He could’ve been looking at you,” you point out. 

“Babe, there are lots of people here looking at me, but just as many with their eyes on you.” Sirius grins, slipping an arm around your waist. “We can feed the rumors that we’re together if you want to keep them from bothering you,” he says in a low voice, eyes drooping in a show of flirtation, “but don’t pretend you’re not the most gorgeous thing here.” 

Remus’ voice echoes in your head. You’re beautiful. Your heartbeat pounds. Sirius is watching you with an easy familiarity, waiting for you to either give him the go ahead or tell him to back off. The feeling of his hand on your back makes something tighten in your core, even as that strange guilt spreads through the same area like a blight. 

You swallow. “Would you be okay to run the death spiral again?” 

Sirius blinks. “Now? It’s a bit crowded for that.” 

“I think we can manage.” You move away from his arm, taking him by the hand instead. Your eyes meet Remus’ as you skate to a clear part of the rink. Maybe it’s still only your imagination, but you think he looks as distraught as you feel. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Remus feels like a piece of shit. 

He’s known about Sirius’ feelings for you since forever, but you’d looked at Remus like he was still worthy of admiration and apparently that was all it took to bring him to his knees. It felt like the worst possible betrayal of Sirius, who was finally maybe becoming his friend, and then when Remus had tried to reverse course he’d hurt you, too. 

The way you’d looked at him—surprised, wounded, uncertain. Remus had been too panicked to give you the explanation you deserved. He’d left you like that. And though you acted normal at practice today, he can tell he’s left you confused. 

Weeks of building trust with the both of you—at first unconsciously, but lately with more intention and hope—and Remus has managed to ruin it in the course of a night. You and Sirius deserve better. 

Remus wanted to be your friend—if his actions last night were any indication, part of him has wanted to be more than that—but he’ll have to make it up to you by being your coach. If he can’t do anything else, he still can get you through this competition. He’ll leave it up to you to decide if you want anything to do with him after that. 

And part of being your coach, he reasons, is making sure you get enough sleep the night before competition. He doubts you’ll want to see him again, but still Remus knocks on your door to ensure you’re getting ready for bed at a reasonable hour. His heart squeezes when you answer with your toothbrush in your mouth, those sweet pajamas of yours creased and crinkled from the night before. You’re an angel for making it easy on him, your usual smiley self as you assure Remus you’re going straight to bed and wish him a good night before shutting the door. 

Sirius’ room is only next to yours. The lights are out, which Remus takes as a good sign, but when he knocks there’s no answer. He knocks again. 

“Sirius,” he says into the doorframe. “Just say something if you’re going to sleep.” 

He waits for a groan or a resentful grumble, but there’s no sound. He knocks for a while longer. When Remus finally gets out his phone to call his charge, he listens for buzzing in the room, but he doesn’t hear it. 

Sirius picks up on the third ring. 

It takes Remus a while to find him. Sirius’ instructions were vague and convoluted, partly because he was lost himself and partly because of the way his words were slurring. Eventually Remus locates the other boy on the rooftop of a bar, Sirius’ legs dangling out over the street and a cigarette dangling from his mouth. 

Remus has to negotiate with the bar manager for a handful of minutes before he’s shown the frightening metal ladder that goes up to the roof. When he sits down beside Sirius, the first thing he does is pluck the cigarette from between his lips. 

“Oi!” Sirius turns to him. Remus sets a hand on his chest, a perhaps overcautious measure to ensure he doesn’t lean himself right off the roof. “I thought you were cool about that.” 

“Not the night before comp.” Remus steals the cig for himself, looking at Sirius over the glow of the cherry. “Did they just let you up here?” 

It takes Sirius a second to catch onto what he’s asking about. “Yeah. Why?” 

Remus shakes his head, fighting a grin. “You always get whatever you want, don’t you?” 

Sirius' laugh is short and bitter. “Not quite.” 

He turns away from Remus, and Remus’ heart sinks. For a brief, harrowing moment, he thinks, He knows. 

Sirius says to the empty night air, “Why don’t we see how we place tomorrow, and you can tell me then if I always get what I want.” 

“Oh, I see.” Remus takes another drag, relieved. “So you’ve come up here to have a pity party about things that haven’t happened yet. Have I got that right?” 

Sirius pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Remus snatches it before he can react. The other boy turns around, angry now. “Piss off, Remus.” 

“Wish that I could,” Remus says evenly, stowing the pack in his pocket, “but it’s my job to make sure you perform as well as you can tomorrow. That means working lungs and a clear head.”

Sirius sulks but doesn’t try to grab them back. He only looks out into the black night. 

“Sirius,” says Remus, “if you’re worried about whether you’re going to medal, or what medal you’re going to get, that’s pointless. You can’t control how anyone else performs or how you measure up relative to them. All you can do is give your best to your routine.” 

“Right. Is that how you thought about it as well?” 

“No,” he admits. “But you guys didn’t hire a competitive teenage prick, you hired a coach.” 

Sirius’ mouth kicks up at the corner. “I suppose that is better.” 

“I think so,” Remus agrees. He watches the other boy for a handful of moments, sensing an opening. “You know, when it comes down to it, doing your best might involve doing an actual death spiral.”

Sirius’ expression sours again, but Remus presses on. 

“I know you could do it if you wanted to. You don’t seem to want to, though. I don’t get why. At first I thought you might not trust y/n to keep herself level, but obviously you’d trust her with anything. And she trusts you to keep her there, too, so what’s the issue?” 

For a while, it seems as though Sirius might not reply. The silence is thick and heavy. He continues looking out at nothing, at the stars hidden behind thick clouds, but eventually his lips part on a sigh. 

“She trusts too easily. She shouldn’t be so sure of me.” 

Remus’ brows furrow. Something unexpected about getting to know Sirius has been learning how quickly all his brash confidence can crumble away. It’s almost never when someone else is upset with him; rather, when he’s upset with himself. Remus used to get irritated by the other boy’s bravado, but now he’s just beginning to realize how fragile it truly is. That he never needed to bring Sirius down a peg, because Sirius was almost always already doing it himself. He’s still not quite used to it.

“Let’s get back,” Remus says gently. “It’s cold up here.” 

Sirius doesn’t protest as Remus leads him downstairs, watching carefully as he climbs down the creaky ladder. On the street Sirius nearly walks into a brick wall, and Remus takes his elbow in hand to prevent it. 

“You know,” he says, “y/n was actually just telling me last night that she was worried she was going to let you down.” 

Sirius makes an appalled scoffing sound. “Her? What for?” 

“I don’t know,” Remus half fibs. “But it would probably sound equally ridiculous to her that you’re thinking the same thing about her. And from an outside perspective, it’s always seemed to me like you’re perfectly suited to each other.” 

Sirius makes a low, whiny sound. Remus startles when he pulls out of his grasp. 

“Neither of you get it.” He lists sideways. 

Remus grabs for him, getting an arm securely around Sirius’ waist. He can’t help but think that two weeks ago this sort of behavior from Sirius would have irked him, but now he only feels a bemused sort of tenderness. He doesn’t understand what Sirius is so upset about, but he can tell it’s not nothing. “Explain it,” he coaxes. 

Sirius seems almost relieved to have been pulled back. He lets himself lean into Remus’ side. “I don’t deserve her trust,” he says in a quiet, mumbly voice. “I don’t deserve any of her. I don’t know why good people like her and James and you always find me, but I’m no good at keeping you. I’ll get mean, or selfish, and you’ll see. But I can’t—” His voice thins, and Remus’ grip on him tightens unconsciously. “I can’t risk losing her. I’m going to get her hurt, and she’ll stop trusting me, and I’ll have let her down again. I can’t do it.” 

The pair walks for a while in silence. Remus can feel the shadows of deeper fears swimming underneath the ones Sirius has just divulged to him, but he’s not sure how to respond. Even during Remus’ most spectacular failures of his career, he was at least the only one who got hurt. He was never tied to anyone else, never risked anybody but himself. If he messed up, he suffered the consequences, and that was it. 

Remus holds Sirius against him as he uses his card to enter the Village. The halls are quiet, most athletes and staff having turned in for the night. 

“When I first started working with the two of you,” Remus says lowly, “I didn’t always see why y/n trusted you so much, either. You were a brilliant skater, of course, but you just seemed like such a tosser.” 

That works as intended, getting a puff of laughter out of Sirius. 

“But I knew I had to figure out a way to work with you, and she just seemed to have complete faith in you. So after a while, I just started trusting that she knew what she was doing. She knew you better than I did, of course, so I figured the two of you had an understanding I just couldn’t comprehend. And the longer I worked with you, the more I could see how she was right.

“What I’m trying to say is, it took me a while to trust you, but I came around because I trusted her. You trust her, don’t you?” 

Sirius has been quiet, but at this, he looks up as though in surprise. “Of course, yeah.” 

Remus suppresses a smile. They both fall silent as they pass by your room, eyes catching on the door you’re sleeping behind like there’s a siren’s call coming from within. Remus wonders if it’s for the same reasons. 

After Sirius lets them into his room, Remus continues softly, “So maybe you ought to give it a try. If you can’t trust yourself, trust the faith she has in you. When is she ever wrong?” 

He expects Sirius to smile at that, but he doesn’t seem to be in the mood for joking. His eyes are big and sad as he sits down on his bed, a quiet sort of asking in them. 

“I think she could be wrong about this,” he says in a near whisper. 

Remus’ throat aches with sympathy. He crouches by Sirius’ feet, ignoring the protests of his hip to start taking off the other boy’s shoes. 

“She’s not,” he says. “She’s just smarter than the both of us. You’re loyal, and brave, and kind. She’s always known that, but it took me a while to catch on.”

“I’m not.” Sirius sounds almost desperate. 

Remus doesn’t back down. “You are.” Frustration and tenderness war inside him. He sets his hands on Sirius’ knees, looking him in the eyes. “Why would I lie to you?” 

A look comes over Sirius face, peculiar only in the moment before Remus recognizes it. He’s seen Sirius look that way a thousand times. At you. 

Remus’ heart thumps. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Remus’ thumb strokes over his thigh, and Sirius’ heart does something abhorrent behind his ribs

“Sirius.” Amber eyes look into his, warm and earnest and unrelenting. “Why would I lie?” 

Sirius began to sober up as soon as Remus called him earlier tonight. He’d started drinking to try and rid himself of that pesky, familiar feeling of derealization that had taken hold, but he’d stopped then. Paid his tab and gone up to the roof, where in the cool air Sirius had the powerful, frightening urge to wait for Remus and tell him everything about himself. Tell him every last terrible thing and see if he flinched. 

Only he hadn’t flinched. He’d taken Sirius home, whatever drunkenness was left lost on the wind during the walk, and taken his shoes off for him, and told him in various words that he was worth something. 

And now Remus is rubbing the sides of his knees. And his hands are gentle and so are his eyes, and his expression says that he believes it, that Sirius is worth something, and Sirus thinks, Fuck it. 

If it goes poorly, he can say tomorrow that he was drunk and doesn’t remember a thing.

Sirius mashes his lips into Remus’. 

A hoarse sound tears from somewhere inside Remus. He pushes against Sirius’ mouth, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pressing him backwards onto the bed. The mattress is hard and the frame creaks under their combined weight, Remus’ hand finding Sirius’ throat and wrapping around it like an embrace. 

Sirius flips them over. Remus lets him, reclining back against the pillow propped along the wall and tugging Sirius closer like someone’s going to rip him away. He tastes like chocolate and cigarettes. A low whine rises in Sirius’ throat. 

Remus’ hands loosen their grip. “Wait.” 

“No,” Sirius pleads. 

“Aren’t you….” Remus pants. He pulls their lips apart but doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against Sirius’. “I’m confused. I thought you had feelings for y/n.” 

Sirius sucks in a breath. “You know about that?” 

A quiet, nervous chuckle. “Yeah, love. But you’ve just kissed me, so…I suppose I’m wondering what that means.” 

Sirius’ heart trembles. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t know.” 

“It’s alright.” Remus’ voice is a balm. He kisses Sirius once, a soft peck. “What do you feel?” 

Sirius opens his eyes and finds Remus watching him. The other boy’s forehead sits a bit higher than his, so Sirius has to tilt his gaze up, feeling cracked open and wretched. 

“I don’t know,” he says again, softer. “Is it bad to want both?” 

There’s a brief pause. Remus’ brow creases slightly. “I don’t think so,” he replies. “But I have to tell you something.” 

Sirius takes his forehead away from Remus’, putting a couple of inches between them. “Go on, then.” 

“Last night, I kissed y/n.” 

Sirius braces himself to hide a reaction, but there’s nowhere to hide from Remus’ perceptive gaze and after a moment, Sirius finds there’s not much reaction to hide anyway. He doesn’t feel upset. The idea of Remus kissing you is…well, it’s not unlike hearing him call you pet names or watching him touch you. Sirius doesn’t wish that Remus hadn’t done it, only that he’d been there as well. He does sort of wish that he’d gotten to kiss both of you first, though. 

“I stopped it as soon as my head caught up to me,” Remus goes on. He seems to be studying Sirius, though Sirius has no clue what he might find. “I felt really awful for doing it when I knew you had feelings for her, but now that you’ve said that, I think I might have feelings for both of you, too.” 

“Brilliant.” Sirius’ heart is hammering, but he does his best to make his voice sound unaffected. “Then what do we do now?” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You stumble out of bed half-awake. You’re not even entirely sure if someone’s knocked on your door or if you’ve dreamed it, but your feet propel you there with urgency nonetheless. You rub your eyes as you open it, mouth stretching with a yawn. 

Sirius and Remus are standing outside, both rumpled but still in their daytime clothes. Their pupils are blown and lips wet and swollen. 

“We were wondering,” says Remus, slightly breathlessly, “if you might have a moment.”

[voguesriot]

NOBODY’S BUSINESS ✹ luke castellan

part one

( summary ) social media au where luke’s sudden spike in confidence turns a few heads, including the head of your ex who just loves to jump in other people’s business

( pairing ) luke castellan x fem aphrodite counsellor!reader , mentions of ex bf! hephaestus camper x reader

( notes ) this feels a bit rushed bcs i’m sick rn but i hope you guys enjoy anyway!!

♫ American Teenager by Ethel Cain

♡ liked by maxwalsh , silenabeauregard , and others

yourusername proof that percy doesn’t actually hate luke

seaweedbrain hey girlie!!! can you take this down like immediately?? not to sound to mean or anything but i can and will find you 😇

yourusername you’re such a cutie perce

seaweedbrain kys

sarahdawson totally wasn’t held at gunpoint for that last pic guys no need to worry

connorstroll we weren’t worrying but thanks anyway ig

sarahdawson sleep with one eye open.

lukecastellan 2/10 post

yourusername sorry for messing with your tough guy image 😔

lukecastellan actually it only loses points bcs there’s no pics of you

chrisrodriguez WOAHHHHHHH

sarahdawson HIS BALLS FINALLY DROPPED

clarisselarue bit sad to know they weren’t completely crushed after the red team kicked their ass icl

yourusername oh trust they were all whining about it the second i put away the camera

clarisselarue good.

GROUPCHAT — chb’s finest

clarisselarue: y/n what is max doing in your likes…

sarahdawson: HES WHAT

sarahdawson: oh he’s brave

yourusername: IDK HE JUST APPEARED

yourusername: like a bug

seaweedbrain: or a rat

yourusername: that too

lukecastellan: he’s on his way for training with me rn so i’ll go extra hard on him

silenabeauregard: homoerotic subtext goes crazy

yourusername: thanks luke but really you don’t need to do that

yourusername: like i’m over him now and i just want to forget about him altogether

lukecastellan: he deserves a hard time for what he did to you anyway

lukecastellan: you deserve way better than that

lukecastellan: i mean anyone would

seaweedbrain: great save bro

lukecastellan removed seaweedbrain.

sarahdawson: oh you took that one personally

DIRECT MESSAGES

clarisselarue: ok when did you get game

lukecastellan: idk what you’re talking about

clarisselarue: oh please spare me i’ve had to watch you make googoo eyes for the past two years you can’t lie you’re way out of this one

lukecastellan: seriously idk what you’re talking about clarisse

clairsselarue: ok fine whatever but HYPOTHETICALLY if you were to try anything with my girl i want you to know that i approve but trust if you go a toe out of line then you will be dealt with

read.

♫ My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski

♡ liked by drewtanaka, hazellevesque , and others

[ tagged: sarahdawson ]

yourusername you’re the only thing i’ll ever thank a man for

yourusername thanks max

this comment was deleted.

sarahdawson I SAW THAT COMMENT GIRL THAT WAS BRAVE

drewtanaka surprised sar isn’t screaming for photo creds for the second slide

sarahdawson bcs i didn’t take it……..

silenabeauregard WOAH WHAT

pipermclean yourusername hey sis can we have a chat please

yourusername nope i’m doing cabin checks rn #counsellorissues

wisegirll i’m doing cabin checks rn though???

silenabeauregard the plot thickens

lukecastellan glad to see you listened to my advice

yourusername felt bad keeping my beauty from everyone

lukecastellan it was a rough time without it

groverunderwood chrisrodriguez now THESE are moves

chrisrodriguez LOOK AT MY BOY GO gods is this what normal parents feel when their kids go to college

maxwalsh nice earrings

this comment was deleted.

seaweedbrain we all saw that comment right…

clarisselarue yes.

DIRECT MESSAGES

maxwalsh: hey can we please talk

yourusername: no

maxwalsh: please babe cmon you didn’t even hear me out

yourusername: because you tried to kiss sarah you fucking asshole

maxwalsh: no it wasn’t like that you don’t get it

maxwalsh: look can you just meet me by our old spot and i can explain everything

yourusername: no

maxwalsh: babe you’re not acting like yourself

yourusername: bcs it’s not her, she’s asleep rn and she’s not your “babe”

maxwalsh: who tf is this???

yourusername: doesn’t matter

yourusername blocked maxwalsh.

lukecastellan posted to their story!

SARAHDAWSON replied to your story

sarahdawson: WOAHWOAHWOAHWOAH SLOW YOUR ROLL WHAT

CLAIRSSELARUE replied to your story

clairsselarue: “idk what you’re talking abt clarisse” oh i hate you so bad

SILENABEAUREGARD replied to your story

silenabeauregard: i’d know that silhouette anywhere…

CHRISRODRIGUEZ replied to your story

chrisrodriguez: i’m a bit hurt i wasn’t told in depth about this before but i’m too proud to pay attention to it GOOD FOR YOU MAN

MAXWALSH replied to your story

maxwalsh: so it was you who had her phone the other day

maxwalsh: wtf man

lukecastellan: womp womp

lukecastellan: you snooze you lose and you lost big time

♫ Nobody’s Business by Rihanna, Chris Brown

♡ liked by jasongrace , racheledare , and others

[ tagged: yourusername ]

lukecastellan and it ain’t what??

yourusername AND IT AIN’T NOBODY’S BUSINESS

clarisselarue ok edward cullen why are you eating her neck like that

silenabeauregard everyone i took the hammock pic thank me please 🙏😇

yourusername thank you beautiful angel

seaweedbrain cute i guess…….

chrisrodriguez I ALWAYS HAD FAITH IN YOU BRO EVEN WHEN EVERYONE ELSE THOUGHT YOU WERE A LOSER WITH NO GAME, I STAYED ROOTING FOR YOU

lukecastellan appreciate you bro

lukecastellan wait people said that about me???

wisegirll my favs 😭🫶

yourusername AWE ILY ANNIE

seaweedbrain oh i’m just dirt to you then? chill.

wisegirll you’re so dramatic percy

seaweedbrain oh so mental health matters until I’M the one hurt? cool.

lukecastellan and y’all were saying i had no game

seaweedbrain okay luke see that’s just not funny because your dad literally dances on a revolving stage for a living

lukecastellan had to bring out the dad jokes because you know i’m right?

seaweedbrain why is your old age pension ass beefing with me instead of talking to ur girlfriend… weird behaviour

sarahdawson too cute i fear

sarahdawson but you i must remind you mr castellan, i made it onto her feed first. you will ALWAYS be second to me. always.

drewtanaka anyone else hear weeping from the hephaestus cabin…

leovaldez it’s really depressing

leovaldez i think he just punched a hole in the wall

cbeckendorf he did

pipermclean LMAO WHAT A FUCKING LOSER 😭😭☠️☠️

( taglist ) @perseus-jackass @harrysnovia

[violettwrites]

american teenagers — ii.

prev | next

the sun was dipping low behind the trees, bathing the trailer park in shades of orange and gold. sunsets had always made you happy— and for a rundown old place like the trailerpark, it sure had some beautiful views. the smell of smoke from merle’s bonfire filled the air, mingling with the sounds of harsh laughter and musing blaring from the open windows of his beat up truck. his so called “party” was in full swing, with half the trailer park and a few strangers from who knows where hanging around, holding onto beers and swapping stories.

you sat on the hood of an abandoned truck— one of the many rusted vehicles that had been left to rot in the trailer park —the metal warm from the sun and sipping a beer that was already a little too warm for your liking. daryl was leaning against the front fender, a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other, absentmindedly flicking ash onto the ground.

“your brother sure knows how to throw a classy event,” you teased, lowly gesturing towards the chaos. someone had already started yelling about a card game gone wrong, and a couple of merle’s friends were attempting to set up a wrestling match on the grass.

daryl snorted, taking a drag. “yeah, real high society,” he muttered, his tone dry. you had always noticed that daryl had never been the biggest fan of merle’s friends, and you didn’t blame him. you weren’t either. but you noticed how tense he was whenever they were around.

despite the rowdiness, there was a comfort in being here with daryl. you two had a way of carving out your own little bubble, even amidst the noise. he leaned closer, his shoulder brushing against your knee as he moved to place his beer on the hood beside you.

“you gonna stick around long?” he asked, his voice low, almost lost under the sound of someone revving a dirt bike.

“depends. you plan on staying sober enough to walk me three steps home?” you teased, though you knew daryl never drank much at these things. one of you had to be the responsible one, and it was almost always him.

“guess that means i’m stuck babysitting,” he chuckled softly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that formed on your features.

as the night wore on, the crowd around the fire grew rowdier. the air filled with the sounds of loud laughter, hollering, and the occasional crackle of a beer can tossed into the flames. you hopped off the truck hood, brushing your shorts off.

“i’m grabbing another drink,” you told daryl, gesturing towards the cooler by the fire. “you want anything?”

“nah,” he shook his head, but his eyes flicked to the crowd near the bonfire, his posture shifting slightly like he was already on guard. “hurry up, though. this crowd aint exactly sunday school.”

you rolled your eyes but waved him off, weaving your way through the small group of people. you had grown up around events like this, and you were definitely fiery enough to hold yourself. as you reached the cooler and bent down to grab a beer, a hand landed on your waist. the grip was firm, too firm, and when you straightened up, one of merle’s friends was standing way too close.

“hey there, sweetheart,” he drawled, his breath reeking of whiskey and cigarettes. his grin was wide, too much teeth, and his hand trailed up your arm now, tightening it’s grip around your forearm. “haven’t seen a pretty face like you ‘round much. you merle’s little sister or somethin’?”

you tensed, trying to pull your arm away, but his grip only tightened. “not his sister,” you said sharply, giving your arm another tug. “now let go.”

“aww, don’t be like that,” he slurred, leaning in closer. “just tryin’ to be friendly.” but you knew he meant anything but friendly.

your pulse quickened and disgust rose in your chest as you glanced around for an escape, but the guy was blocking your path. before you could muster a response, there was a sharp, familiar voice behind you.

“she said let go.”

daryl.

he appeared out of nowhere, but you knew he most likely had been keeping an eye on you. his presence was like a storm as he stepped between you and the man. his hand shot out, grabbing the guy’s wrist and wrenching it off your arm with a force that made him stumble back.

the guy’s, still nameless— though you could care less— expression twisted with drunken indignation. “what the hell’s your problem, dixon?” he snarled, puffing up like he had any chance of intimidating daryl.

“my problem’s with you touchin’ her,” daryl snapped, his voice low and threatening. “you’re gonna back the hell off, or i’ll make you.”

the guy laughed, a hollow, ugly sound. “oh yeah? you gonna make me?” he teased, imitating a baby voice as he shoved daryl’s shoulder. a stupid move if there ever was one.

daryl didn’t waste a second. his fist shot out, connecting with the other male’s jaw, a sickening crack sounding through. the man staggered, but didn’t go down, swinging wildly in retaliation. his fist hit daryl’s shoulder, but it wasn’t enough to phase him.

daryl grabbed the guy by the front of his shirt, slamming him into the side of an old truck. the sound reverberated through the air, and the party came to a screeching halt as everyone tuned in their attention to watch.

“think you’re real tough, huh?” the man spat, blood dripping from his split lip. he swung again, but daryl ducked, driving his knee into the guy’s stomach and sending him crumpling to the ground.

“get the hell up,” daryl growled, though his boot pressing square into the man’s chest said otherwise, his voice ice cold.

the man groaned, trying to push himself up, but daryl pressed his foot down harder, fists clenched at his sides, ready for more.

“daryl!” you shouted, stepping forward and grabbing his arm. “stop, he’s done!”

for a moment, you weren’t sure he had even heard you. his chest was heaving, eyes blazing with rage as he stared down at the man. but then he turned to you, and the tension in his body seemed to drain away almost instantly.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, but his gaze didn’t waver from yours.

“i’m fine,” you said, your voice shaky but sure.

“good,” he muttered, his attention snapping back to the man still trapped under his foot. “stay the hell away from her, you hear me?” he spits, finally releasing the man from being trapped.

the man nodded weakly, coughing and wiping blood from his mouth as he crawled away, clutching his stomach.

merle’s laugh broke the silence, loud and obnoxious. “that’s my baby brother!” he hollered, clapping his hands. “knew you had it somewhere in ya!”

daryl ignored him, his focus still on you. “c’mon,” he said, nodding his head in a direction away from everyone else. “let’s get outta here.”

he didn’t wait for an answer, his hand brushing your arm as he led you away from the fire and the stares. your heart was pounding, but not just from the fight. the way daryl had looked at you— protective, furious, and something else entirely —lingered in your mind as you followed him towards your trailer, vacant from anyone else.

as the both of you reached the small porch, you glanced at him, noticing his red knuckles and tight jaw.

“thank you, daryl,” you spoke softly, looking up at him.

he glanced at you, his expression softening for just a moment. “ain’t nothin’,” he muttered, but the way he gripped the door handle before pushing it open told you it was more than that. and as you stepped inside, the noise of the party faded behind you, the silence almost jarring after the chaos outside.

you sank onto the couch, still somewhat shaken, and daryl stood near the door, arms crossed over his chest, tension radiating from him.

“why’d you do it?” you asked softly, breaking the silence.

he glanced at you, his brow furrowing. “what do you mean?”

“why’d you step in like that? you didn’t have to go that far.”

for a long moment, he didn’t answer. his gaze locked onto the floor, his jaw working like he was trying to figure out the words occupying his brain. finally, he met your eyes, and there was something raw in his expression.

“i don’t know,” he admitted, his voice low and almost hesitant. “i just— i had to. couldn’t stand seein’ him touchin’ you like that.”

the honesty in his voice hit you like a punch to the chest, a for a moment, all you could do was stare at him.

“daryl…” you started, but the words caught in your throat.

he shifted, looking uncomfortable under your gaze, but he didn’t move to leave. “you’re all i got,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “ain’t gonna let nobody mess with you.”

your chest tightened, and you felt the sting of tears you didn’t want to shed. instead of speaking, you stood up, making your way over to him and wrapping your arms around his torso, squeezing tightly. “thanks,” you spoke softly, the word carrying more weight than you could put into it.

he didn’t say anything, but you felt him nod his head as his arms wrapped around your figure, holding you close. and in that quiet moment, the unspoken connection between you felt louder than anything else.

hi guys !! i hope you enjoyed chapter 2 !! i had a lot of fun writing this one and im excited for you guys to see the rest of what i have planned 😈

i am still unfortunately going thru it a little, but writing this is helping me keep my mind off everything. i love you guys and your support means so much to me

as always! if you enjoyed reading this, don’t forget to show your support by liking and reblogging! if you’d like to be added to my tag list, comment below!!!

tag list: @rotten-biter @negansbestie @moonbaby6 @sunnykittyzz @twd4life7