#an ADULT thinking Adult Things about ANOTHER Adult

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green, Part 27

masterpost This is just a first draft, please no concrit!

Danny wasn’t sure about this.

He should be. Bruce seemed sure about it. His… his siblings seemed sure about it. Babs seemed sure about it. But Danny… Danny couldn’t help but feel like he was forcing himself on another person. The fact that Annalise was dead didn’t help him feel any better at all. In fact, everyone had learned to avoid that point of argument after how upset it had made Danny the first time that Damian had tried it.

They didn’t get it, how could they? Death meant something different to them.

“Danny?” Dick’s concerned voice interrupted Danny’s thoughts. “Do you want something different to eat?”

Danny blinked down at the scrambled eggs that he had been idly pushing around on his plate for the last few minutes. The yellow lumps didn’t look very edible anymore. “Oh. Um, I guess another scone and some fruit?”

It was only Dick, Damian, Duke, and Bruce at breakfast that day. All the D kids. Jason had gone back home yesterday. Dick would leave today, but Tim would be back and maybe Cass. It was hard to have less of them there. It was hard to have them away where Danny couldn’t know they were safe. Danny tried not to make a big deal about it, he had to let them all start getting back to their lives. They had been giving up so much for him.

After swallowing a large bite of the scone Dick had passed him, Danny asked, “Can I see how changing back to my ghost form goes today?”

For just a split second, everyone at the table froze before they forced themselves back into motion.

“Of course. Do you want to do that after breakfast? I’d like myself or Dick to be with you, in case there’s a set back with your injuries,” Bruce said.

“I guess? I don’t know when Dick wants to leave,” Danny said with a glance between the two adults at the table.

“I don’t have to head out until early afternoon,” Dick chirped. “What’s work like for you, B?”

“Just an afternoon meeting that I’ll be attending virtually. Lucius knows there’s a family thing going on and is holding down the fort,” Bruce said.

“Lucius Fox,” Duke explained. “He keeps stuff running and Bruce on track.”

Bruce shrugged. “It’s true. He also knows about the family nightlife, which helps immensely.”

“I guess that after breakfast works,” Danny said as he picked a little at his scone. He was realizing that Bruce hadn’t actually seen his ghost form before. Damian and Duke hadn’t either, he didn’t think. It felt like a reveal even though it wasn’t. Danny met Damian’s searching gaze and gave a little bit of a shrug. “It’s just been a while since I’ve been in it. I guess I’m feeling, like, this itch about it.”

Damian gave a little nod. “A muscle that needs stretching. May I join Father and Grayson in the Cave to watch?”

A chunk of the scone broke off. Danny fumbled it slightly before just setting the pastry down on his plate. “Sure? I don’t know if it’s really going to be anything interesting. I’m guessing that I might still be pretty weak, so I don’t really plan to try much.”

“What sort of things can you normally do?” Duke asked as he mopped up the last of the egg on his plate with a piece of toast.

Danny resisted the urge to fidget with the scone again. “Oh, um, well flight is the most basic thing.”

“Please no flying too high or over open parts of the cave right now,” Bruce said with a slightly strained sounding voice. “I’d rather you not fall when we can’t safely catch you. When you think you’re stable, we can have a family friend over to spot you.”

“Oh. Sure? I mean, I’ve fallen before and I’ve been fine. It’s hard for me to take damaged in the form.”

“Still, Dandelion,” Dick said carefully. “We’d rather not risk you. Just put up with us being overly cautious for a little bit, okay?”

“Okay,” Danny replied on rote. He didn’t really get it. There hadn’t been any being careful before with Sam and Tucker, but he had been hurt around his new family a lot. “Um, other powers I have are to go invisible and intangible. And I can shoot some energy blast elemental things. There’s duplication too, but it’s, um… yeah. Not great and I don’t want to after…”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. This is just what you need,” Bruce assured him. “No one is asking you to use your powers here unless it’s something that you want to do or need to do for your health.”

Danny gave a jerky little nod and looked away. “Right.”

“Come on, Dami,” Dick said as he stood, “let’s go run through some stretches so we can get some practice in before I leave.”

“I’ll let Alfred know you’ll still be here for lunch and that I won’t be. Group project,” Duke said and got up also.

It went from a pretty full table to just Danny and Bruce almost instantly. Danny nibbled on a chunk of the scone.

“Danny, what’s going through your head, chum?”

What was going through his head? “I just… I don’t know. My ghost half has always been for something. Sam wanted me to fight the other ghosts. My… anyways, experiments. I guess I don’t know how to talk about it after everything. I don’t know how to talk about it with all of you. You guys are out there being heroes all the time and… don’t you want to use my powers?”

Bruce moved to the seat next to Danny. He was so large that he loomed a little even when trying to seem smaller. Danny didn’t think he’d get that large. Not anymore, not after dying. Not after the years in a box.

Would Damian get bigger than him? Probably.

“In the Justice League, I’m the strategist,” Bruce said calmly. “There have been times in my life that I’ve been far too much the strategist. There have been other times in my life when I’ve tried to use strategy to cover up my fears and feelings and have hurt people. It’s something that I still have to work on, and I likely will for the rest of my life. I very much do not want to not screw that up with you. After everything you’ve been through, I want it to be as clear as possible that who you are and what you are isn’t something that I plan to use. The only one that gets to say what you use that for is yourself. You’re not an asset, you’re my kid.”

Danny blinked quickly. He didn’t want to cry again. “I don’t know if I know how to be a kid anymore.”

“I was horrible at being a kid,” Bruce said. “As were… well, a number of my children. But the good of that is, you don’t have to be a normal kid here. If for you being a kid is training Ursa and going flying and, I don’t know, building model airplanes then that’s fine. If at some point you do want to be part of the nightlife, then that will be fine too. You have all of us to figure those things out with you. And we’ll disagree sometimes, because we’re us, but that is alright too.”

Danny gave a slightly watery little chuckle. “Going to build model airplanes with me?”

“If that’s what you’re into, absolutely.”

“What if… what if part of what I want is to reach out to Jazz? What if I want her to help me figure out things too?”

“Then I just ask that you let us figure out how to do that safely first so that no one can find you here and come for you,” Bruce said.

“You’d really let me?”

“She’s your sister. You being part of this family doesn’t change that. In fact, Jazz welcome to be part of this family if she would like to be. But she can also not be and still be your sister.”

“Once it’s safe,” Danny said. “I’ll reach out once it’s safe for me and for Dami and Jason too. I won’t let them get hurt because of me.”

Bruce ruffled Danny’s hair. “I know you won’t. Just let us help with it. I don’t think any of us could take you running off like that again.”

Danny winced. “That… wasn’t my best moment.”

“Maybe not, but we all understand how you got to that point. I’m just glad that you were headed to me and that we got you back,” Bruce said with a little shrug. “Well, and that you didn’t get pneumonia from being injured and out in the rain.”

Danny stood when Bruce did, setting his napkin on the table. He tried not to seem like he was scrambling, but the formal meals were still a little much. “I’m glad about that too. I think I’ve been injured enough for a long time.”

“You really have been,” Bruce agreed. “Which is why I’d prefer no full on flying until we have either Superman or Superboy over to visit and spot you.”

“I won’t fall, I don’t think.”

“Still,” Bruce said with a little frown that seemed somehow dark.

“Oh, strategist. You can, like, picture it, can’t you? Me falling.”

“Far too easily.”

“Okay, yeah, no full on flying on my own until you know I won’t fall,” Danny agreed. “Even if I know you’d catch me.”

“We’d try our best to, chum, always.”

[funkbun]

please unleash the inspekta hecta thoughts please please

yesterday went into a bit of a frenzy over him. wait no ive been crazy over him since november somebody help.

also love your art!!

bear my hectspek blast

Anyways I'm constantly just sitting here thinking about Hector’s whole situation. Obviously he fucked up severely; that’s clear as day, we’ve all played the game we know this, but I just like thinking about his life before godhood/his early years as Inspekta and how it all lead up to Everything and just, wuugh goddddd…

Like think about The Drain for a moment. In the game, it’s “located” between The Grove (this super important, mystical place where you can Literally Go Talk To Gods) and the Earth (you know this place). Whenever it’s mentioned, it’s just used as a negative euphemism, a place of nothing good. But it is still a place, people /live/ there, all the bizzyboys you see are /from/ there. And apparently it’s just hell, based on what we can infer about it.

And there’s something about how the Bizzyboys (INCLUDING HECTOR, ESPECIALLY HECTOR, THE FOUNDER OF THE BIZZYBOYS) are a bunch of lonely people trying to make a name for themselves, trying to find purpose in their lives, find something out of nothing. Even if they’re all from Literal Hell, they still tried finding a life outside of that. And Hector made them feel special, important, and loved and cared for and just….. auuugggghhhhhh I like to think that he really did do that. That he really did try his hardest and attempt to make their lives better for all of em. He didn’t want anyone else to go through what he’s been going through in all his loneliness and fears……….

I (personally) don't subscribe to the whole “Hector/Inspekta was ALWAYS evil and ALWAYS wanted to take over The Grove” idea, since I (personally) think that’s a pretty uninteresting way to view his character (personally). I think he truly wanted to make the world a better place, that he wanted to use what he had to help people and also change the way The Drain/Drainfolk are viewed to the rest of the world. His main fault comes with how he just didn’t know how to be vulnerable about his feelings and fears, especially going into godhood.

He probably thought that becoming a god would solve all his issues, but instead he just let his own destructive tendencies to both himself and others fester inside him for 33 years. I feel like King being elected as the new god right after his own ascension was sort of the breaking point there. Bauhauzzo mentions that it’s unusual for a new god to be elected right after another. To me, Inspekta probably interrupted that as the people of The Grove already grew tired of him and are ready for a new, more interesting god. Bro’s jealous! Bro’s pissed off! Bro’s scared! Bro’s insecure! It’s all pretty obvious in this line right here:

You already know about that final fight with him, the ultimate crash out, he’s going through it all so fuckin badly, fucked up evil creature experiences remorse, he realizes everything he’s done and is about to do, he’s surprised that people Actually care about him, they dont want to see him like this, they want him to understand everything.

Hector’s back, wuagh. And now what is he gonna do after everything? What’s his plan, his goal, how is he gonna live out the rest of his life? It’s absolutely warrented, obviously, but fuckin imagine trying to enter back into society knowing you almost caused an end to all of it? How you almost killed the very figures you’ve looked up to for so long, how much they’ve inspired you to become the person you wish you were, and how you could’ve put an end to all of that? And everyone’s going to remember what you’ve done! Your public perception is going to be changed forever! There’s no hiding that fact!

And connect it back to his original plan, his original goal for himself and the bizzyboys. Trying to make the world a better place for lonely people like him, and it all really just crashed and burnt. He lost everything, he really did. His life is ruined, and I feel bad for him a bit, a Bit honestly, but this is also really the most fitting punishment he deserves. He’s going to live on with the weight of everything he’s done, he’s gotta bear it allllll. Anyways I think it works well for Hector to both be super miserable, sad, and remorseful for everything he’s done and even if he tries his hardest to make it up to everyone, he understands if nobody would ever forgive him for what he’s done. AAAAAND I think he should also be a little piece of shit, still trying to make up for everything but also being unbelievably frustrated and bitter when people still refuse him to give the time of day. Like what’s the point of getting better if nobody’s going to be willing to give him the chance to grow? Obviously his anger probably isn’t warranted after everything he’s done, but I highly doubt he’s going to stop being a petty piece of shit anytime soon. He constantly flips between these two mindsets all the time in my mind.

I hope you enjoy my (mostly) Hector bomb. Hope it was comprehensible lol. Kill grandpa.

[eatingdemapples]

this might be the most important message i’ve ever said on here. while I am so excited about the growth of women’s sports we need to do a better job at protecting female athletes !!!

the way ppl treat angel reese is diabolical. I mean the comments on EVERY single angel reese post make me want to throw up. I have NEVER seen someone so hated on for everything they do OR don’t do. like how do these adults in the media look themselves in the mirror, or their daughters, or mothers. she has done nothing but good things for women’s basketball. THEN finally she speaks out not to long ago about another issue of people over sexualizing her. and now when she posts a bikini pic ppl are like “oh but u don’t want to be sexualized?” AHHH im getting angry now because just thinking of how young angel is and so many other college athletes it’s sick. DO YALL KNOW THEY WERE CREATING AI NUDES OF HER. Could you IMAGINE seeing that shit of yourself or your daughter or your sister in the internet!? what is wrong with people.

and with Paige, like yes there are edits all over the internet of her, she’s great at basketball, she’s got rizz, how about SHES STILL IN COLLEGE and has grown men posting on the internet stalking her. threatening her and buying tickets to her games like!??! she’s just in college playing the game she loves and now you’re waking up being scrutinized and honestly over sexualized all over the internet.

I don’t want people to wait until a girl ends up in a really dangerous situation for us to START TALKING ABOUT IT. basic compassion for women in media especially sports is rare and that’s sad.

Harper Murray is a college vb star at Nebraska. She was the NUMBER 1 recruit in her class, played in a stadium of 92,000 ppl (the most attended women’s sporting event like ever). then she loses the natty in 2023 and all because of 1 press conference where she was “overly confident” in saying she’s going to win the national championship the next three years, she was bullied so bad by the internet it damn near killed her. it ended in a mental health diagnosis, DUI, and an outpatient program. and she CONTINUES to be bullied on the internet last vb season!!! as an 18 year old girl in the sport that she loves, jumped by grown ass adults! unbelievable. don’t even get me started on if she were a man or a college football player they would’ve been eating that confidence up.

I hope the adults in all these women’s lives and the leagues have mental health practices in place, safety practices in place. and for fans positive comments and engagement with these athletes can change everything! anyways idk man that’s my rant.

[leyavo]

| I am my father’s daughter |

💖 Dad!Price x Daughter!reader, eventual Soap x reader

PART FOUR: John Price hasn’t seen or heard from his daughter in over year, but that changes when she calls him one night asking for help. 2,565words

TW: hurt/angst/mentions of abuse/ complicated father-daughter relationship

Previous parts > [Series Masterlist]

🔈Reader’s view of John is different, he’s come and gone in her life etc so she thinks he’s not that great. So don’t send me hate

You learnt from a young age to stay silent when it came to the adults in your life. Made it easier to get the talk over with. Less words to get you in trouble, something you always tried to dodge.

Silence, your best friend. The one thing that kept you company most days. You stared at your dad, arms folded over your chest as you leant back on the stiff wooden chair. Not quite tucked in under the table, slightly angled in case you needed to make a quick exit.

The shiny new phone on the varnished surface, some sort of peace offering or something to be held over you, another thing for you to figure out.

The Captain however, he wasn’t as easy to read and that added to the weight on your chest. You weren’t sure on the limits, what he’d allow or how he’d deal with something he didn’t like.

You cleared your throat, gaze flitting to his across the table. “So, I can probably find a place in like a couple days or so, a week tops you know,” you said rambling on about a friend of a friend who lived close by.

Not a total lie, you’d slept on your mates sofa’s here and there as a teen when things went south before. You’re sure you can pick up some bar work to help you out till you find something more permanent.

The Captain shook his head. “Stay as long as you need, kiddo. Anything you need your old man’s ‘ere.”

As long as you need, another open ended thing for you to figure out. You didn’t want to overstay your welcome or get too close to him. Didn’t want to rely on your dad, knowing that he’ll come and go as he pleased. Blame it on the job, send you a message to check in and rid himself of the guilt.

“You know, it’s not just us living here,” he said, interrupting the constant thoughts rattling in your head. You know the little voice that’s always second guessing other people’s actions and trying to decipher the true meaning of their words and actions.

Oh shit, you didn’t even think of his team living in the same house. They’d given you and the captain space since you’d got here. You’re hoping you won’t be there for long, even if you have to stay at a shitty hotel until you get enough money to put down on a flat to rent.

“I’ll stay out of the way, no problem.”

Out of sight, out of mind. Least he wasn’t taking you to his house with your brother and stepmother.

“Nah kiddo, this is just as much your space now,” he said, his brows scrunching together as his eyes roamed your face. Like he was also trying to figure you too. “There are some rules though.”

“Rules?” You echoed back at him. You weren’t so good with rules, they normally came with expectations and punishments when they were broken.

Not that you’d be breaking them, willingly anyways. You didn’t want to think of the outcome if you did either.

“We’ll be in and out of the house, no set routine. All you gotta do is look after yourself kiddo, we eat mostly in the canteen as it’s convenient. So you’ll probably be having your meals alone, help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge, but add to the list on the front if you run out of stuff,” he said, sliding a notepad in front of him. The scratch of his pen jotting down numbers and words.

You nodded, “sure that’s okay.” You’d been fending for yourself for years, knew how to make the most of the basics or go without. Skipping a meal a day wasn’t a big deal for you. You could survive on just one if you needed to. You wondered if they kept track of the food or if they labelled their own food. There wasn’t any locks on the kitchen cabinets, so it looked like it wasn’t too strict.

“Now, you’re on base. So you won’t be able to walk anywhere and everywhere. There’s a map here,” he mumbled, pointing to an unfolded leaflet. He placed it in front of you and started to circle some areas, blue ink tracing the paths and road. “All the places I’ve highlighted you can go. Do not, I repeat do not go anywhere else.” His voice lowering as he got to the last sentence, gaze flicking up to yours. He jabbed the tip of the pen in your direction, brows raising as if daring you to argue about it.

The look of someone you did not want to piss off. You glanced back to the untouched areas, half of them with no labels or names.

“Uh, yes sir. I won’t go there.”

He doesn’t question the formal sir you’ve thrown his way, the line between his brows softening and eyes relaxing from their narrowed gaze.

“You got any idea what type of work you’re looking for?”

You shook your head. There wasn’t much you could do, a few different jobs here and there. You’d take anything at this rate, you weren’t picky. Money was money at the end of the day.

“Alright, I know someone hiring,” he said, raising his hand to stop you interrupting him. “Three days a week, entering data into a computer. Gotta interview kiddo, nothing comes for free.” He ripped off a piece of paper from his notepad, pushing it to you. A number and name, along with a date of the interview.

The ever prepared Captain already scheduled you an interview. Part of you wondering if he’d planned the rest of your time here.

Boring work, but you didn’t have the luxury to care. You needed to find something as fast as you could.

“It’s not working here is it?” You asked, trying not to offend him.

The Captain chuckled, “nah kiddo. A fifteen minute drive. If you get the job, I’ll sort the insurance on the truck and you can borrow it for now till you find your feet.”

It’s been years since you’ve seen him smile, the curve of his lips making him seem younger. Like the dad who used to ruffle your hair and put you over his shoulder when you were six. The years seemed to harden your parents, your mother’s snapping tone still sent a shiver down your spine. Your father’s stern face, lines in the corners of his eyes and the centre of his forehead painting him serious most of the time.

“What about rent?”

Nothing comes for free, his own words repeating in your mind. You wonder what else you’ll have to earn whilst you’re staying with him.

“Keep ya’ money,” he grumbled, his chair scraping back as he stood up. He walked over to the fridge, pinning a piece of paper under a magnet. His finger jabbing the scribbled mess. “If you need to reach me, this is my office number. Mobile first, office is last resort.”

“And mum?” You dared to ask, still expecting her to appear with each waking day. Least you'd hear her before you actually saw her.

“We’ll talk about it another day. Rest up and look after yourself. You still need to take it easy.”

You nodded, releasing a deep breath. The weight on your chest lifting, the tension loosening from your shoulders.

The Captain turned his back from you, flicking the kettle on. You rose from the chair, tucking it back under the table. He handed you a steaming cup of tea and you settled down into the sofa, placing the cup on the coffee table.

A kiss landed on the crown of your head, "gotta go back to the office, you know what to do if you need anything."

You didn't get a chance to react, the front door closed before you could catch a glimpse of your father.

Sleep had been fleeting the past week, as soon as your cheek hit the pillow on the couch you were out. You were never much of a heavy sleeper, but the rough weight on your forehead soothed the heat and sweat coating it, that you didn’t question it. The cool touch easing your faltering breaths.

You shifted, the cushion wedged behind your back brushed against the wound near your shoulder blade, a groan slipping from your lips. The hushed tones of someone shushing you and the hair sweeping behind your ear, however, sent alarm bells ringing. You shot up, head crashing into the nearest thing.

Johnny Mactavish stumbling back with a grunt. He cradled his jaw, a string of curse words falling from his lips.

"Fuckin' hell, Johnny," you snapped, clutching your forehead and scrambling to sit up. "Why are you breathing over me?" You traced the stitches above your brow, lowering a trembling finger tip expecting blood, but there was none.

Your heart drummed against your chest, the shirt you wore drenched in sweat and sticking to the dip between your breasts. Your fingers pinched the fabric, allowing the excess to swallow your figure once again.

The crick in your neck stopped you from turning your face quickly to the man in front of you.

Johnny rubbed his chin, red tinge marring his jawline. "Thought you'd passed out again, checking for your breath lass." He sat on the edge of the coffee table, wood groaning under his weight.

The distressed denim jeans hugged his thick thighs, baggy t-shirt skimming over a leather belt. Sergeant written across his firm chest. Your gaze wandered to the short sleeves and the way they curled around his biceps. A few nicks and scrapes dotted his bare arms, fading green bruise on his knuckles.

He reached out and you dodged his hand, trying to sink further into the sofa. Wanting it to swallow you up, anything to go unnoticed.

“You’re hot.”

It took you a second to register what he'd said.

“I’m what?” You stuttered, trying to pull the thin blanket over your shoulders as you slid down in your seat. God, he was so hot. Different to your ex, something untouchable about Johnny too though.

A deep chuckle shook his chest, his head cocking to side. Smile stretching his lips as if he noticed your stare. “Yeah, your head. Fever maybe?” He mumbled, leaning forward and placing the back of his hand on your forehead for a few seconds.

Of course, he wasn't looking at you like that. You don't even know why your mind went there either. Must be the fever messing with you.

You blinked, not sure of why he was checking you over again. If you’ve got a fever you’ll be taking a bath right? Or just riding it out? You weren’t quite sure. Did the Captain put him up to this?

It was the first time taking medication like this, normally you took paracetamol and hoped for the best.

Johnny’s touch is light, brief as he pulled away and clasped his hands in between his legs. “Did ya’ miss your meds?” He glanced over his shoulder, the ridiculously large clock ticking away.

“I fell asleep.” You shrugged, “I’ll just take them in a bit.” It’d been four hours since you’d settled on the sofa and three hours ago you were supposed to take two pills.

“You gotta take them at the specific times,” Johnny said, popping the pills out of their packaging and into your palm. He walked to the kitchen, returning with a large glass of water.

Sipping the water and throwing back your medication, you went to place it on the table, but he shook his head.

“Drink all of that, will help with that fever,” he said, sinking into the sofa beside you. The cushion dipped beside you and found your body leaning to his. "Might wanna, take that blanket off too." He snatched the blanket from your lap, balling it up and tossing it on the armchair beside him.

You drank half, gaze locked on his as you placed the glass on the coffee table. Wondering if he’d tell you to drink more, but he picked up the remote, flicking through the tv guide.

“Captain got you babysitting?” You checked your phone, a chain of texts from your father and an alarm notification you slept through that alerted you of the time and the meds you needed to take. forty-six missed calls and twelve voice messages, your ex's name lit up the screen as you turned it over on the table.

Johnny slouched against the back of the sofa, legs widening. Your knee brushing against the side of his denim clad thigh. His hand resting ever so close to yours on his own leg.

“Nah, watching the rugby.” He pointed to the tv with the remote, the match three minutes in already. There’s a bottle of beer in his other hand, the same one your ex liked.

The one you used to stare at in the shop, wondering if this pack would go in your favour or go against you.

Johnny seemed pretty calm though, you don’t know him well so the beer in his hand doesn’t help you feel any better. People are totally different after consuming stuff like that.

“You like the rugby?”Johnny said, his deep voice pulling you out of your head. He sucked in a breath as the players tackled each other for the ball.

You shook your head, “I hate sports.” You can't think of anything worse, a group of men shouting and hollering at a match. The spike of violence when their teams didn't win, all because of a game. You tried to keep away from all that.

The bottle doesn't touch his lips, a chuckle shaking his shoulders. "Yeah my sisters hated it whenever I watched the rugby." A smile playing on his lips, his fingers picking at the label on his beer bottle.

"You've got sisters?" It doesn't surprise you. He's respectful towards the women on base, well from what you've seen so far.

"Yeah, three of them. Don't know what's worse, three of them or that they're older."

You wonder how different your life would have been if you had siblings, someone else around your age to take the load off of you. Another person who could relate to everything, someone you could talk to without judgement.

Johnny rambled on about his siblings, telling you little bits of pieces of his childhood. The more he said, the more you felt like you'd missed out on a lot. You nodded along, lying when he'd asked you if you were close with your mum. The instinct to paint everything good still ingrained in your being.

The phone in front of you vibrated, kept doing so until you picked it up and turned it off. You don't even need to look at who it is, no matter who it is, it's not someone you want to deal with right now.

"Block 'em, don't want the Captain getting a hold him." He doesn't spare you a glance as he spoke, the tic in his jaw pulsing.

Johnny meant well, but you couldn't stop the cogs turning as you thought of what would happen if the Captain knew everything. A part of your life you'd never shared with your dad, for good reason too.

And if he'd even believe you.

✨ Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed it :) there might be some errors/mistakes as I'm dyslexic, I do check my work a couple times, but I do miss bits and pieces - Leya

Taglist: @unclearblur @enfppuff @reiluvr @elita1 @tired-writer04 @kaoyamamegami @gallantys @leon-thot-kennedy @trulovekay @harley101399 @misshoneypaper @rpgsandstuff @tomatto1234 @lolyouresilly @madsothree @astrothedoll @grandfartvoid @delaynew @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf

(Some of the tags wouldn't work so sorry if I didn't tag you. If you would like to be added just let me know)

[tallysgreatestfan]

That's something I have thought about quite a few times already.

Now, I am autistic and mentally ill, but I am not intellectually disabled. I most definitely don't "have the mind of a child" or whatever ableist bullshit neurotypicals come up with to justify abusing us.

That said, pretty much every single time I see an easily-climbable tree, or one of these spider net over a pole in the middle thingies, or an outdoor tramboline I am sad that I as an adult can't use that because it would be creepy and cringe and people would see me.

I know that there are some indoor playgrounds specifically for everybody, including adults, some chain of that here in Germany is called Jump House and back as I was in a psych ward for a bit longer than half a year we had this reocurring event of going there, which always did wonders for everybody mood. They also had most things adult-sized, and had some things, like an quite difficult Ninja Warrior like parkour, that would have been too difficult for kids to do.

Something like this really should exist for other kind of playgrounds too, and it should be socially acceptable to climb on fun looking trees just as much as jogging or doing situps in the park.

And while neurodivergent people definitely suffer the most from not being allowed to do that, I think being able to exercise in actually fun, playful ways instead of only grueling workouts with no other reward than (maybe) weight loss, or even just calming sensory stuff like swings, would be good for everybody physically able to. (As cynical as this is, if there is ever a public debate about this, I think this could be an good argument, because neurodivergent people will likely be seen as too rare and not worth it, but if you can point out that it would help everybody...)

That said, I not just don't do it because looking like a creep, but also because I am so terrified of being seen as not really an adult and "mentally a teen" and all of these cliches everybody expects with a diagnosis like mine. No idea what exactly I do wrong with my body language and appearance, but people pretty much always think I am much younger than I am. My family can't understand that this is not a positive thing. It is humiliating. I have quite a few things I should already have accomplished at my age, but I haven't, and quite a few things I should be easily able to do, but aren't, and its humiliating. I don't want to do yet another thing that makes me worth lesser and justifies taking my autonomy away.

something that really fucking sucks about being a neurodevelopmentally disabled (NDD) adult and I never see talked about is the fact that children's paces are eventually off limits.

like, I don't know how to explain it other than the phrase "yeah, some NDD people actually do act like children and enjoy children's things (and that's okay)" (imperfect statement but I have a cognitive impairment leave me alone)

it's really frustrating because being an adult, and especially being an adult genderqueer man, I am barred from places like playgrounds because I am seen as a predator. it also makes me really sad. playgrounds, up until I started looking way too old for them, were a source of sensory comfort for me. I used to swing on the swing sets until I stopped looking 14. you can get away with being a 14 year old on the swings, not a 20+ year old.

and this goes for so much. while most of it doesn't affect me personally, it does affect many NDD people. it is not uncommon for NDD people to behave like this and have these interests. and it just sucks that the minute you start looking like an adult suddenly you're unwelcome in the spaces that brought you comfort and joy.

[voftdubsofficial]

Do you like how chaotic and mean spirited homestuck^2 has become????

Oh boy do I have so many thoughts about this topic haha. This is going to be a long one and I’m sorry in advance.

Personally I absolutely love Homestuck^2 and Beyond Canon. Tbh I wouldn’t be putting so much effort into a dub of it if I didn’t. And when it comes to Homestuck^2 and the epilogues, they were made to evoke specific emotions and the fact that some people feel that it was “mean spirited” and “chaotic” means that they are doing their job well.

I’ve always stated that, while one of the major themes of Homestuck proper was about being a kid growing up on the internet, one of the major themes of Post canon Homestuck is about living in the world as a traumatized adult. I may be a little biased about this because I waited to read the epilogues until I was 20 and felt very connected to the 23 y/o cast of post canon, but it struck me as very relatable watching the way their lives were playing out. Anyone past high school knows that when you finally get out into the real world, a lot of things and people change, even the ones you’ve grown incredibly close to. Some end up incredibly depressed, some end up fully occupied by their jobs and responsibilities, some become people that you barely even recognize anymore and no longer like, and some end up disappearing one way or another. It’s the way of life and it was really relatable to read through.

Another part of it is trauma and how the story has affected our cast. I think a whole lot about what comes after the story, how the protagonists return to their lives, how the adventures have changed them. When it comes to Homestuck, these were kids who were plucked from their normal lives at 13 years old and for some even younger, a time in your life you’re supposed to be doing the most growing up and maturing, and they had to spend it in a traumatizing life or death scenario that caused them to watch their friends die multiple times over. And then… they’re just dropped into the new world as gods, disconnected from society yet trying to just exist within it as well. There was no way for them to end up with a perfectly happy ending, not without a lot of bumps along the way.

Similarly the main conflict of the story is once again about endings. Much like in Homestuck proper Calliope is cast as an insert for one side of the fandom, however this time the other side is cast as Dirk. With Dirk being the side of the fandom that is scared for the story to come to an end, scared for him and all the friends he cares about fading away in to non-canon, scared to the point that he makes himself the villain to keep the story going. Calliope is the side of the fandom that just wishes for Homestuck to have an ending, attempting to rip the narrative away from Dirk, trying to stop his plans on Deltritus, and even so far as placing the candy timeline in a black hole completely severed from canon. I think it does a really good job of representing both halves quite nicely.

Speaking of meat and candy. They both are also meant to evoke specific emotions. The epilogues as a whole do a really good job with making you feel specific way. With the whole thing being text with no pictures, it feels a lot less accessible to the fandom because it’s not what we’ve expected from homestuck in the past. It already starts you off feeling off, just like John is. Then as you go on slowly you get more and more comfy before you’re given The Choice. Meat or Candy? Meat presents you with a story that is grounded, familiar, canon. Something that feels a lot like the Homestuck you know. While candy provides you with something that feels… off, unsettling, non-canon. In a way you can’t really pinpoint until John states that he feels it too. And there’s a lot of things that help provide this but the one I want to point out is Gamzee. He’s present all throughout the candy epilogue, showing up in places no one wants him and places he shouldn’t be. However, when a piece of canon finally pierces into the isolated timeline, when Vriska falls from the battle with lord english, the clown finally dies. Stuff like this just shows how well post canon does at making you feel the things it wants you to.

Overall the main point i’m trying to make here is that post canon in general is really good at making you feel emotions that match the themes and tone it’s trying to get across. It’s a coming of age story not for teens but for adults. So if you’re feeling like the story is chaotic and mean spirited, that’s because you’re supposed to. And I think that’s pretty cool.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

No Air 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect and abuse, bullying, body shaming and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re forced to return home after a nervous breakdown.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You stay in your room. Rather the repurposed guest room. It's as much as you expect. Hiding from your mother. What you coudn't expect, or predict, is the house guest who has you similarly meek.

You wiggle your fingers and tear your hands away from your throat. You can feel his grip still. Even alone. And the way he rubbed against you. Grinded even.

You roll onto your side and watch the moonlight between the space of the curtains. You feel heavy, like the air is mud, like you're made of stone. You close your eyes and sink.

Your mother is right. You're a failure. You blew it all. All you had to do was better. All you had to do was wait and cry in your hotel room. What's wrong with you? A whole lifetime burnt up in a fireball.

The low moan cuts through your self-pity. At first, you think it's the wind. Then it comes again, followed by something else. Something deeper. The grunting is steady, almost rhythmic, building louder and louder, as the softer tones grow sharp.

Your cheeks are alight at the realisation of what's going on on the other side of that wall. Those things that are mysterious to you. You see them on screen, glimpses edited down to snuggles and writhing beneath blankets. It's just another thing you missed. Another thing left behind for the music.

You sit up as you feel a tingling in your stomach. Your fingertips are hollow. You trip as the blankets catch around your leg and stumble to the door.

It's louder in the hall. You hear the clapping of flesh. Your mother's voice sounds pained. You hurry away with your hands over your ears.

You rush down the stairs and throw out your arms before you can tumble down. You cling to the banister as you descend and get to the bottom, breathless. You stand alone in the dark, the distant noises sounding between your shallow panting.

You find your way to the French doors and escape onto the veranda. You're shaking as you step out into the evening hue. The moonlight pools in the birdbath and gleams along the crystal surface of the patio table. You sit on the cushioned bench against the wall and sigh.

You don't belong... anywhere. You never really have. You always watched the kids in the schoolyard and cafeteria from the sidelines. You always sat behind your cello until your fingers bled, pausing only to watch through the window, until your mom hollered at you to keep going. Even as an adult, travelling as a musician, you never did more than watch. The others avoided you and laughed at you. You didn't get their jokes. They called you weird.

You hang your head and clasp your hands in your lap. You don't remember the fit. They said you hurt yourself. You have the scabs to prove it. A cut in your forearm, bandaged and healing. A sliver of the cello dug deep. You shrug. You remember so little and what you can dig out, means nothing. It's not scary or sad. It's just what happened.

That man though. He is scary. You pull your hands apart and curl up your fingers. You listen to the trees sway, hear the night birds call, the bats flap in the sky. Everything around you is like music but quickly distorts to a cacophony.

You close your eyes and focus on breathing. The doctor told you to do that. Right before he wrote the prescription. You forgot to take the pills. If you had, you'd be sleeping by now.

The breeze stirs around you and ruffles the loose pantlegs of your linen pajamas. Goosebumps rise on your skin and a shiver rolls up your spine. A sigh breaks the nightly lull at once.

"Ah," Lloyd heaves out air and you hear a crack. You blink and look at him as he stretches his neck. He stands in the moonlight, stark naked and shameless. "Nice night, huh, sweetie pie?"

He puts his hands on his hips and you divert your gaze to the ground. The grooves of his muscles along his back cling in your mind as you try not to thick of lower down. He groans and stretches his arms above him.

"Was starting to get a cramp," he chortles and turns. Your face sets ablaze as you stare at the wooden panels. "I'm all sweaty."

He struts in front of you and drops down onto the bench next to you. He leans back as you sit forward. He rests his arm across the back. You grip the edge of the seat but can't stand. He slaps his hand down on your thighs and digs his fingertips into your flesh.

"And where are you going?" He slides closer.

"Sorry, I... just wanted some fresh air."

"Ah, ah, come on, baby, don't run away from daddy already. I'm all done my warm up," he leans into you and nuzzles your hair. "I'm all ready for my real work out."

You push his hand off of you and jump up. You stagger and his hand slips down your arm as he reaches for you. You hit the table in your panic and wince as you grab your hip.

"Better watch where you're going, sweetie pie. Those thighs are deadly." He snickers.

You turn and look at him, terrified. He sits calmly as his hand moves in his lap. He smirks.

"Well, you gonna stay and help me get a third round in or--"

You don't wait for him to finish. You break into a sprint. You pass through the door, feet slapping loudly, reminding you of the noises from before, and you race back up the stairs. Your heart is pounding. Like when those girls in high school chased you into the bathroom and you hid in the end stall. They ended up dumping toilet water on you over the top of the wall.

You burst through the guestroom door and slam it without a care. You hurdle to the bed and wrap yourself in the blankets, like a kid that believes they can hide from the monster under the bed. If you don't move, he can't get you.

🎻

You fall into a daze as the curtains glow with the slowly breaking dawn. Your head is swimming. Your eyes roll back on their own and you drift away into a grey oblivion. You forget all that came before. You're floating in a void, untouchable.

The escape is brief. At once, you're forced back to reality. The duvet is torn off of you as cold air washes over your bare arms. You push yourself up and stare at your mother's furious face.

"There you are!" She snarls.

"Mother, I--"

"No, you shut up! You listen to me!" She sneers. "You're not going to lay around in my house like a lump. You are going to get to work! I did not sacrifice all the time, all blood, all the sleep for you to be nothing." She puts a knee on the bed and grabs your shoulders, shaking you, "do you understand me?"

You bite your tongue and whimper. You babble as you latch onto her wrists to stop her. She doesn't. She digs her nails in and drags you to the edge of the bed.

"You are going to get your old cello and you are going to start practicing!"

"Mother, I can't--"

"Don't tell me what you can't do!" She barks and lets you go, pointing her almond-shaped nail in your face. "You are going to work and you will get another seat."

"Mother, please," you gulp as your eyes sear. "I just can't."

You shudder and grip your knees. The thought of lifting a bow makes you sick. You shake your head as your eyes sting.

"To hell you can't. Years of lessons, rehearsals, concerts--" She claps at you. "Are you listening to me?"

Your head bobbles as you look around. Your chest racks and your ribs ache. You can't breathe. You feel the fracture slowly forming your brain. No, no, you can't.

"Lovey dovey," the drawl keeps your mother from shaking you again. "There you are. Oh, hope I'm not interrupting. I was just thinking, it's our first morning together. All of us. How about we make it special?"

"Lloyd," your mother spins and fixes her posture. She simpers and softens her voice, "that is so lovely of you to suggest but I'm fasting. You know that, darling."

"You are? You had quite a bit of wine last night," he counters.

"Are you counting?" She bristles.

"Of course not, dear," he winks and his eyes flit past her, to you. "The alcohol always adds to the fun, doesn't it?"

"We were just having a talk, about the future," she preens.

"Sure you were," he saunters closer. "Look, if you're fasting, that's your thing. I'm fucking starving." He slaps his stomach, "how about it, sweetie pie?" He shoulders past her. "You like grand slams? Sunny side up?"

You stare at him. You don't know how to answer. You mother turns slowly and glares at you.

"I don't know..."

"Of course, she can go with you," she squeezes Lloyd arm. "Don't let me get in the way. Besides, I need my space." She fans herself dramatically, "I'm still... so devastated about everything."

"Right," he smirks at you and tucks his thumbs into his pockets. "It'll be good. Get to know the prodigy. Maybe give her a pep talk." He tilts his head. "You know, Kat, everyone needs a strong male role model. You really can't blame her."

"I know you'll talk some sense into her," your mother puts her hand to her forehead. "I need to lay down."

"Don't blame ya. Still feelin' it, huh?" He slaps her ass and snickers. Your eyes widen.

"Oh, Lloyd," she giggles. "You're so naughty."

"You know it," he winks at you. "Me and junior will have a nice heart to heart."

"Enjoy. Don't let her have the waffles," your mother stops at the door and looks back. "She doesn't need any more sugar."

You look down at your thighs and gently touch the cushion around your stomach. She hates everything about you. Down to the hair. You listen to her swish away in her satin robe.

"Well, baby," he pushes his crotch out as he bounces on his toes. "You gonna go like that?" He looks you up and down. "Not sure the nips are family friendly."

You look down and quickly cover your chest, the thin fabric pointed from beneath. You crawl to the opposite side and stand. You go to your bag and stall, glancing over at him as he watches you. You look at the door.

"Aren't you going to..." you begin.

"Ah, sweetie, don't be shy. We're gonna be in close quarters from now on."

You stare at him. "I can't--"

"You can. Come on. Get something pretty on for daddy."

You choke on your tongue. "What?"

"You need help?" He nears the foot of the bed and you nearly fall over.

"No, no, I can..." you turn your back to him and cringe.

You're weak. Pathetic. Everything your mother ever claimed. You can't make him go away and she wouldn't either.

You unzip your suitcase and sniffle. You pull out a pair of jeans.

"Ugh, you got any skirts in there? With those thighs; mm, mm, mm," he growls.

"No, I don't--"

"Well, we'll have to change that. Make a pit stop and get you something cute on the way back," he insists. "Whatever, I'm hungry. Hurry up, thunder thighs."

You wince and find a ruffly polka dot top. You lay it on the suitcase and untie the string of your pants. You tremble as you push the waistband down. You're humiliated. Not just by his presence but his words. You hate when people call you that.

You step out of your pajamas and whimper. Your panties. You can't leave the same ones on. They feel dirty.

You steel yourself and strip off your underwear. You're as quick as you can to pull on the new pair but trip and nearly tumble onto your bag. He lets out a gritty breath. You put your bra on under your shirt before you take it off. Finally dressed, you can't bring yourself to face him.

"Shit, was hoping to see the tits a bit more but I can wait," he chortles. You don't move. He sighs and snaps his fingers. "Well, let's get going. You don't wanna deal with me when I'm hungry and horny."

[lukolastrong]

this is my two cents on the topic, nobody asked for lol. The question everyone is asking- why now?? Many months later? So either Nic is trying to tell everyone, Luke & I are besties with partners or Nic & Luke are a family ( I say family if you follow Fiat & Fran. It the answer is option 1, cool! We are adults. This shouldn’t change how you see Nic and Luke BUT, why now lol. If Nic and Luke were just besties, why now follow Anotina back in June when luke was being bullied everyday. A simple hit of the button”follow” would have stopped majority of the troll behavior to Luke. But nooooo, she didn’t follow in June, July, august, September, October, November, December, or January but chooses February to now follow 👀. If you follow Fiat & Fran, they have explained in great detail, why February is an important month.

let’s be honest, Luke was unhinged- and we love it- last night. He lights up around her. Nic tries to play it cool with buddy vibes but soon, she can’t keep up the charade either. I mean, she is literally touching Luke at the dinner tag at the event. The seats are designed to be close enough to talk to one another but space to eat and mingle. Nic’s chair is right next to and close to Luke. When they are on the red carpet, he is talking to someone and she just waits on him. She could have said, I’ll be back. Sunday was the perfect night to let the world know they are friends. They had every media outlet there. And they didn’t do that at all. They went back to no space, never being separated, sitting next to each other at the after party, Nic doing a bad job trying to act like she didn’t know Luke went to that Mexican restaurant- her response, oh you did! Ma’am you know this, you just saw him last night lol. Luke staying: Nic this and Nic that. Nic keeps talking about that baby like it’s their baby. She did that at the Irish award show. It confused on interviewer. Then when the ET lady said- we need a happy ending, Luke just looks at her and smile, awkward silence and Nic goes- hey hey. WTF was that!!!! Now they have people who didn’t know them or part of the GA watching them.

lastly, sorry for the book lol. Fiat made this comment months ago. Luke fell on the sword for his family. Luke would give his kidney to Nic. He took a lot of abuse this summer. What if Nic is falling on the sword for Luke to protect their family. Nic is doing all this to protect something or someone. It may look crazy to some people but it’s doing what she feels is best. I hate to say it, but I fear- if together, Nic and Luke are going to get papped soon. Nic is trying to control the narrative and pookie is no help on that lol. They do compliment one another. Luke is unhinged in person but great with his SM presence. Nic is great with her lives, but she is unhinged on SM lol. I think Nic is on tumblr so she is seeing when people said- why not just follow Antonia.

Thanks for reading.

Don’t apologize anon, I love this. I like the thought process you’re putting out. I agree with so many things you said. The timing is of the follow is definitely weird. But idc about it honestly. I actually laughed when I first saw it all over X, the tweets were so funny. She isn’t fooling anyone! She realized what her and Luke did (reveal that they’re still unhinged together and completely in love) and is trying to throw a curve ball. Or, as I’ve seen, is to help A? Idk. I’m still trying to gather information and figure out where I land on this.

That middle paragraph is 💯. Luke and Nic couldn’t get enough of each other and it was so obvious. They light up together but I agree, Lukey pookie was even more obvious about it. He loves that woman so much.

He did get so much hate, unfairly and we know there was a lot going on bts. She can try to control it as much as she wants but the cat is out of the bag 🙂‍↔️ I hope they don’t get papped either. I want them to come out on their time, when they’re ready. Umm if she is, hello Nic 🤭👀

[aias-fxtns]

JJ stopped. When he turned around a few seconds later, the smug, cocky attitude was gone. His expression had completely changed, his face unreadable. "Why?" 

Seriously dude😭. Imagine how your life is going to be if you just decided to be an adult and communicate with y/n peacefully without throwing accusations at her. IMAGINE?!?!!

"You said you’d come," you finally said, voice quieter now, like maybe if you didn’t say it too loud, it wouldn’t hurt as much. "And I—" You swallowed, forcing yourself to look anywhere but at him. "I waited for you all night. Almost all night. I waited for that door to open, but you never showed up." 

Seriously this two could literally fix this problem if both of them just have a proper conversation without shouting and accusing each other things that are clearly not true. The other one have trust issue, insecurities, doubtful, and denying his feelings towards her—while the other one is not reading or getting the clues immediately, doubtful, trust issue, and also a bit of denial. One way or another they need to fix this mess before it get into Lily.

"You really don’t remember," he said, mostly to himself. Then he let out a shaky breath. "For three fucking days, all I did was think about the last five years of my life. About you. About Liliana. About us."

His voice broke slightly on the last word. 

"About the life we had together," he finished quietly. "And it fucking destroyed me." 

Bro, stop giving hints its obvious she doesn't remember nor get it. The least you can do is tell her straightforward what your issues here, she really trying her best to have proper conversations with you🥹.

For five years, he had taken other girls out on dates when it should’ve been you. It should’ve been you.

No shit, sherlock...

Awe, Lily!! Why do I always read "Liliana" in the accent of Gloria when she's calling Lily as Lilliana in Modern Family??😭

Liliana, ever the mimic, waved her little hand at him. “Happy birthday, Topper!” 

Then he dipped down, and before you could even register what was happening, his lips crashed against yours.

❝FIDELITY❞ |part15

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: Arguing. (tell me if I should add more I’m really bad at this.)

Selly's note: I'm sorry. Pls don't hate me💗

previous - next

Waiting was hard. Especially when someone told you they’d come. Every knock on the door had you looking up. Every single one, you thought it was them. 

After all, a promise had been made—to be there. 

But when they didn’t show, the disappointment stung. If you weren’t going to come, why say you would? Why give hope? 

If they’d said they were leaving, fine. It would hurt, but at least you’d know. But when someone says they’ll come, you wait. Even if they don’t say when, you wait. 

And then they don’t show. 

Their messed-up life, their thoughts, their world—so damn important that they can’t even pick up the phone to say, “I’m okay.” They just leave. Just like that. Like you meant nothing. Like you were a stranger. 

Should you be worried or just pissed? You weren’t even sure. Your mind kept running through scenarios, wondering if something happened. Maybe that’s why you didn’t call. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t it. 

They just didn’t. 

If they wanted to, they would have. 

And knowing that hurt the most. 

Lily and JJ. That was everything. Your world revolved around them. You spent every day together. And now, he was just… gone. Like he hadn’t been by your side for years. Like you had never been in his life. 

There was so much anger bubbling inside you that even stepping outside for air didn’t help. Even when Liliana came to talk about JJ, you struggled to keep your answers short. Every time she asked where he was, you had to bite your tongue to keep from saying, “rotting in hell.” 

Especially—especially when he left you alone at a time when maybe, just maybe, you were starting to feel something for him. Was no man reliable? The first chance he got, at the first sign of trouble, he ran. If you couldn’t even trust JJ, then who the hell was left? 

Screw love. He was your best friend. 

And sometimes—friendships mattered more than feelings. You would’ve pushed everything else aside just to keep him in your life. 

If you couldn’t trust him, then who else was left? 

You had called Rafe a coward before, but wasn’t this the same damn thing? 

The first chance he got, JJ was gone. No one knew where he was. Three days. And nothing. You didn’t even know if he was coming back. 

At night, after Liliana fell asleep, you’d lie awake. You’d cry, or you’d just stare at the ceiling, torn between waiting up for JJ and giving up on him entirely. 

But you waited. Like an idiot, you sat in the living room, waiting for him to walk through the door. How much lower could you sink? Sitting there, waiting for a guy who promised to come and never did. A guy who swore he’d always keep you safe but ran at the first real fight. 

And god, the worst part was, you had feelings for him. 

Your best friend. 

You pulled a pillow into your lap, hugging it close as your eyes stayed fixed on the TV screen. You weren’t even processing anything. Your mind was a mess. 

As if all this wasn’t enough, Rafe was still waiting for your answer. As if you had one. 

It wasn’t easy. This wasn’t something you could figure out in just a couple of days. You had five years of raising Liliana without him. And before that, you had years of being with him. How were you supposed to weigh nearly seven years of your life in just three days? 

But still, you had to decide before leaving for Asheville. 

You squeezed your eyes shut. Everything was too much. You hated how everything was piling up at once. Without thinking, you grabbed your phone. Even though you were pissed at JJ, making a decision about Liliana on your own felt wrong. 

Your fingers found Rafe’s number instead. You hesitated for a second, taking a deep breath. Then, before you could overthink it, you hit call. 

You should’ve just stayed in Asheville. 

The phone barely rang before it was answered. Your brows shot up. You hadn’t expected him to pick up that fast. Taking another deep breath, you opened your mouth to speak, but Rafe beat you to it. His voice was slightly breathless. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi.” Your voice was flat, the exact opposite of his. You weren’t in the mood to sound happy, let alone pretend you were fine. You just wanted to get this over with, to cross one thing off your list of a million things weighing you down. 

“How are you?” Even though you were the one who called, Rafe took the lead in the conversation. And that felt… strange. He wasn’t the same guy he used to be—you could tell. But every time he spoke, you could still picture the version of him you once knew. 

Like he was someone else entirely. 

And you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not. 

You inhaled deeply, trying to find your voice. When you finally spoke, you hoped it sounded somewhat normal. “I’m fine.” 

If you had been face-to-face, even a stranger would’ve known that was a lie. When silence settled between the two of you. You hated phone calls. Especially when you didn’t know how to start them. 

Realizing you hadn’t even asked how he was, you spoke first. “You?” 

“I’m… good, I guess. What are you doing?” Rafe’s voice was quieter now. He wasn’t as excited as when he first picked up—he sounded calmer. His breathing had slowed. Maybe he’d picked up on the exhaustion in your voice. You didn’t know. 

After all, Rafe wasn’t someone you knew anymore, and you couldn’t begin to guess what was going through his head. 

Your eyes wandered around the room. Liliana’s toys were scattered in a few places, but the house was mostly tidy. You sighed. “I’m at ho—” 

Rafe cut you off, quick and eager. “Is Liliana with you?” His previous excitement was back, and you could tell from his voice that he was smiling. 

You pulled your legs up onto the couch, shaking your head even though he couldn’t see you. “No… No—she’s asleep.” 

“Oh… Got it.” 

“Great.” You replied dryly. The conversation hit another dead end, and for a moment, you almost forgot why you had even called. The silence stretched between you two, tense and uncomfortable, but it didn’t last long before Rafe spoke again. 

“Do you remember Topper—Of course, you remember Topper. Shit… Well… He’s having a birthday party. June 29th, I think. If you wanted to come—” 

You didn’t need to hear the rest. You were only curious about how he’d finish the sentence. 

“No.” 

The two of you weren’t close. You and Topper, especially, were never close. Being there wouldn’t just be weird—it would be unbearable. Besides, you weren’t exactly in the mood for parties or loud places anymore. At least not right now. 

Rafe exhaled. “Okay.” There was no disappointment in his voice, just acceptance. And you were relieved. You weren’t friends. You weren’t going to pretend to be by showing up at some party. 

“And yes, I remember him. Four years isn’t that long to forget someone.” You ran a hand over your face. You knew he was just stretching the conversation, but you weren’t in the mood. 

“Yeah… it’s not.” Rafe went quiet. You had a feeling you knew what—or who—he was thinking about. So, you stayed quiet. 

You weren’t old friends reconnecting after years apart, and you never would be. That’s why you had no interest in casual conversations. You wanted this to be short and to the point, yet somehow, both of you kept dragging it out. 

“So… I don’t want to pressure you, but have you thought about what we talked about? Or was this just… kind of your way of questioning if I even deserve it?” 

At his words, you sat up straighter on the couch. Did he deserve it? You had no idea. You hoped he did—if there was any chance of him being in Liliana’s life. 

“That’s why I called you. I—I know I said I’d think about it, but Rafe—Jeez, I don’t trust you.” You didn’t really trust anyone these days, but Rafe was at the top of that list. He didn’t just hurt you. He shattered you. And now, years later, he wanted to come back, claiming regret? 

It was disgusting. 

“I get it.” His voice was thick, almost strained. Maybe the old you would’ve felt bad for him. But he wasn’t there when you needed him. 

“No matter how much I try to be objective, at the end of the day, the person I’m gambling on here is my daughter.” And when it came to protecting her, there wasn’t a line you wouldn’t cross. Even if it meant running to the ends of the earth. 

Rafe said nothing. 

“I don’t want to say no. I don’t want to take that right away from Liliana. But I’m not saying yes either. I just… I don’t know if it’s the right thing.” 

“I completely understand. I—I’ll wait as long as you need. Whenever you decide to let me see her—if you ever do—I just… I don’t want you to think I’m doing this to get close to you. Shit, I suck at these kinds of conversations. I screwed everything up. Not just us—my whole life. And I don’t want to keep living like that. If there’s even a small chance that I can be better, I want to take it.” 

You wanted to believe him. You really did. But it was hard. Especially because you knew him—who he used to be. 

It felt like the hardest decision you’d ever have to make. Because this wasn’t about you. It was about Liliana. The moment you introduced them, it would be over. She’d know her father was back. She’d want to see him. 

The words left your mouth before you could stop them. “I’ll think about it.” 

You weren’t ready to give him a straight answer. Maybe you never would be. But you would think about it. 

“And I’m grateful for that.” The second those words left his lips, it felt like a punch to your stomach. You leaned back into the couch, sinking into the cushions, taking a deep breath. 

You didn’t want words of affection from him. You didn’t want soft reassurances. 

He would be in Liliana’s life. Not yours. And he needed to understand that. If he already did, then he needed to remember it. 

“I have to go.” You didn’t want to say goodbye. You weren’t friends. You never would be. 

“Okay,” Rafe said. 

“Okay.” You echoed him. 

“Take care.” Those were his last words before you ended the call. 

You weren’t friends. 

You didn’t want his thoughts on your life. Not even one. 

This was only for Liliana. That was the only reason you spoke to Rafe. The only reason you called. 

“Are you done?” 

The sudden voice snapped you back to reality. Your eyes flew open, and your body reacted faster than your mind, making you jolt upright. One hand clutched your chest as you turned toward the doorway. 

JJ was standing there, his expression unreadable, a not-so-friendly smirk tugging at his lips. He dropped the grocery bag in his hand onto the floor, shaking his head.

Did he really have the nerve to stand there and smile at you like nothing happened? Had he lost his mind? 

"I asked you a question, you know? Are you guys done talking?" JJ tossed his keys onto the couch. There was almost a smirk on his lips, but it was clear it wasn’t out of happiness—just pure mockery. As if he had any right to ask you anything. 

You wanted to yell at him, but you held back, keeping your composure. You weren’t going to drag this out any longer. He was already dense enough at the moment; you didn’t need word games. "Yeah. We're done." 

JJ let out a dry chuckle, staying right where he was instead of stepping closer. "What’d you tell him—actually, wait. Never mind. Forget it. I— I just wanna drop this. Do whatever you want, just don’t tell me about it." 

Your eyes squeezed shut. One hand went to your forehead, the other lifted as if you were trying to stop yourself from doing something reckless. You had no idea what the hell had gotten into JJ lately, but you wanted to rip it out of him and shove it so far up his ass that he’d finally cut this crap. "Stop doing that." 

"I'm literally not doing anything," JJ said, laughing right after. But there wasn’t a single trace of amusement in his voice. 

"I'm done playing games." You forced yourself to stay calm. He was the one who walked out of this house and didn’t come back for three days. And now, the moment he steps back inside, he thinks he’s the one who gets to act like this? 

JJ started moving toward the couch, pulling off his jacket as he went. "Whatever you say." He tossed the jacket onto the couch and leaned back, making himself comfortable. You clenched your fists, trying to keep yourself together. 

Liliana was upstairs, and yelling was the last thing you needed to do. You were not about to fight with JJ in front of her. Ever. 

You took a deep breath, swallowing down everything bubbling up inside you. Just one more try. If you could just get through this one last time, you could leave it all behind. Of course, you had every right to call him out for disappearing for three days, to be pissed at him, but you wanted to fix things, not burn them down. "If you're willing to sit down and talk to me like a normal person, I want to have one last conversation with you. No yelling. No arguing." 

JJ stopped. When he turned around a few seconds later, the smug, cocky attitude was gone. His expression had completely changed, his face unreadable. "Why?" 

"What do you mean, why? Don’t play dumb, JJ. I’m standing right here, trying to be a rational adult and talk to you." It was exhausting. 

JJ took a step forward, his brows slowly pulling together. "Are you seriously gonna make me repeat myself? I told you to do whatever you want. You’re her parent—" 

That was it. You shot up from where you were sitting, cutting him off before he could even finish. "One more time—just one more time you say that, and I swear to God, I will punch you in the face." You tried to keep your voice steady, but you already knew you’d failed. Your tone had gone sharp, louder than you intended. 

Not that JJ cared if you raised your voice. It wasn’t about him. It was about Liliana. You didn’t want her to hear this. 

"What do you want me to say?" JJ shrugged as he walked toward the couch, his tone infuriatingly indifferent. "I said it’s your decision, I’ll respect it. You get what you want." 

He was never going to understand. He only heard what he wanted to hear—he wasn’t even listening to what you were saying. "I don’t want to ‘get what I want.’ I want us to sit down and figure this out together." 

JJ rolled his eyes so hard you thought they might get stuck. You felt your patience snap. If this were Liliana, everything would already be resolved by now. But JJ? He was worse than her. More stubborn. More childish. "Jesus. I’m telling you, this decision is yours. I won’t interfere. What do you want, another fight like last night?" 

You couldn’t take it anymore. "Who even are you?" 

You watched as confusion flashed across his face. JJ took a step back. "What?" 

You didn’t stop. "Who the hell are you?" 

JJ’s eyes narrowed. Clearly, he had no idea what you were getting at. "What the hell are you talking about?" 

"Tell me what role you see yourself in Liliana’s life." 

JJ swallowed. His mouth opened, then closed, and his hand went to his hair like he was trying to figure out what to say. "I— isn’t it obvious?" 

You shook your head, fast. You didn’t want to be angry anymore. "No. Clearly, it’s not. We’re not on the same page. Tell me how you see it, and I swear to you, I’ll act accordingly. The way I see your role in her life and the way you see it yourself—they’re not the same." 

Whatever answer he gave, you would accept it. If he saw himself as an uncle, then fine, you’d treat him like one. If he saw himself as nothing more than a stranger, so be it. A brother? A parent? Whatever it was, you just needed to know. 

"I—" JJ started. 

"You what?" 

JJ spread his arms, looking at you like this whole thing was ridiculous. "This is bullshit." 

"You can’t even say it— You know what, JJ? Maybe, for the first time in five years, you actually disappointed me. And I really wish I didn’t have to feel that." 

It was never going to be simple, was it? He just had to fight back, had to shut you out instead of just facing it. You raised Liliana together. And yet— 

You didn’t even want to think about it. You tried to shove down the overwhelming urge to just walk away from all of this. JJ was the one person in your life you trusted the most. For the past few years, he had been. And you couldn’t wrap your head around how it was all unraveling in just a few days. 

If someone had told you weeks ago that you’d be standing here, questioning everything, you wouldn’t have believed them. You would’ve laughed and said, "JJ would never do that." 

But here he was. Doing it. Every word, every move—breaking your heart, little by little. He wasn’t JJ anymore. Not the JJ you knew. He was turning into someone careless. Someone indifferent. 

"Feeling’s mutual," JJ’s voice came sharp, dripping with sarcasm. You took a deep breath. You weren’t going to cry. Not in front of him. 

It hurt like hell. Not being able to be vulnerable, even with the person you trusted the most. Not even feeling safe enough to cry in front of him. 

Your eyebrows lifted, a bitter laugh threatening to spill. "That so?" 

"Yeah." JJ didn’t hesitate. Not even for a second. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in his voice. He knew exactly what he was saying.

The words slipped from your lips before you even had time to think. You didn’t mean to say them out loud. But deep down, you knew they were true. 

"Maybe we're starting to hurt each other." 

And maybe you were. 

You couldn’t help but look at yourself, at the way you felt tangled up in emotions that never seemed to settle. It wasn’t just about what you felt for him—it was also about the way he made you feel. 

JJ’s lips twitched slightly before a dry, humorless laugh escaped him. 

"Maybe." 

You wanted to hate him. You wanted to so badly—except, no, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t hate. It was disappointment, frustration, an ache that sat too heavy in your chest. 

"It’s been three days," you said, hating the way your voice wavered. You hated how weak you sounded, how obvious the tremble was. 

And this time, you didn’t give him the chance to speak first. Maybe he wouldn’t understand, but for once, you wanted to open yourself up. You wanted to believe that if you said the right words, if you explained it in the right way, something—anything—might change. But you also knew, with a sinking certainty, that it wouldn’t. 

Because JJ was too damn stubborn. Too damn stupid. And you already knew exactly how this would go. 

You looked at him, searching for some kind of reaction, some acknowledgment that he was hearing you, that he was here with you. But he just stood there, staring at the ground. Silent. Avoiding your eyes. 

"You said you’d come," you finally said, voice quieter now, like maybe if you didn’t say it too loud, it wouldn’t hurt as much. "And I—" You swallowed, forcing yourself to look anywhere but at him. "I waited for you all night. Almost all night. I waited for that door to open, but you never showed up." 

You could still see it—the way you sat there, staring at the door, holding onto the stupid hope that any second now, he’d walk in. That things would be okay. That maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. 

JJ still didn’t lift his head when he spoke. His voice was so flat, so emotionless, that it almost felt like a slap in the face. 

"I'm here now." 

Your head snapped up, eyes narrowing as you stared at him. Was he serious? Was he actually standing here, looking you in the eye, and acting like that made up for anything? 

"You’ve got to be kidding me," you muttered, more to yourself than to him. You searched his face for any sign of regret, any hint of an apology, but he wouldn’t even look at you. 

You couldn’t believe this was the same person you had known for years, the person you had spent so much time with. He looked like a stranger. 

"Fuck you," you said, voice sharp and bitter as you turned on your heel. 

You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t stand here and look at him, not when he was acting like this. Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest it felt like it was trying to break free. It physically hurt. 

You stormed toward the stairs, desperate to put distance between the two of you, but his voice stopped you in your tracks. 

"You don’t remember anything, do you?" 

There was something different in his tone now. It wasn’t flat, wasn’t distant. It was shaking. It was the first real emotion he had shown since he walked through that damn door. 

You turned back, brows furrowing. He was still standing there, shoulders slumped, eyes glassy. He dragged a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. 

"What?" you asked, confused. 

JJ didn’t look up. His hand pressed against his chest as if that alone could steady him. 

For a split second, you thought he was in pain. But then the memory of the past three days came rushing back, and all you could feel was frustration. Because if he was hurting, if something had happened, he sure as hell wasn’t letting you in on it. 

"I cared about you," he said, voice cracking slightly, as if the words themselves were painful to say. He wasn’t even talking to you at this point. It felt like he was talking to himself, as if he was saying it out loud for the first time. 

Something about it made your stomach twist. 

You hesitated, then slowly started walking back down the stairs. You didn’t know why. Maybe it was the way his voice sounded. Maybe it was the way he wouldn’t even look at you. Maybe it was the fact that despite everything, despite knowing better, you still wanted to understand him. 

"JJ," you said cautiously, searching his face. "What are you talking about? What don’t I remember?" 

You hated how lost you sounded. 

JJ finally stopped pacing. His body was tense, like he was holding something back, like if he said it too fast or too loud, the words might actually destroy him. 

"You really don’t remember," he said, mostly to himself. Then he let out a shaky breath. "For three fucking days, all I did was think about the last five years of my life. About you. About Liliana. About us." 

His voice broke slightly on the last word. 

"About the life we had together," he finished quietly. "And it fucking destroyed me." 

You felt like you had been punched in the stomach. 

JJ finally lifted his head. His eyes were red, and for the first time, you couldn’t tell if he was just exhausted or if he was actually about to break right in front of you. 

Where the hell had he been for the last three days? What had happened to him? 

You had spent so much time being angry, being hurt, that it hadn’t even occurred to you to wonder what he had been doing. Where he had been sleeping. If he had been eating. 

And the worst part? The first thing he did when he walked through that door wasn’t explain. It wasn’t apologize. It wasn’t reassure you that he was okay. 

No. 

He came in, looked you in the eye, and started a fight. Because that was what JJ did. That was all he knew how to do. 

You swallowed hard, watching him carefully. His lips parted like he wanted to say something else, but he hesitated. He looked wrecked. His body, his face, everything about him screamed exhaustion. 

He needed sleep. Maybe food. Maybe something stronger than that. 

But despite everything, despite how much he had pissed you off, how much he had hurt you, you still— God, you still cared. And you hated it. 

He wasn’t the same. He wasn’t the JJ you knew just days ago. He was looking at you like you were a stranger, like the past didn’t exist. But even after all that, even after everything he had done, if he asked for your help, you knew you would give it. 

Because you were an idiot. 

And because if there was even a small chance he would go back to the person you knew—the person you trusted—you would do whatever it took to bring him back. 

But you already knew how this would end. JJ had disappeared for three days after your first real fight. 

What the hell would he do the next time? 

When your eyes finally met his again, he swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed, his jaw clenched. He took a step toward you, but there was still so much space between you. 

"I need you to tell me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you remember, or are you just pretending?" 

There was almost a glimmer of hope in his eyes—you could see it. But you struggled to understand what he was talking about. He kept asking you about something you didn’t even know. No clues, no hints, just vague words. 

How could he expect you to remember something you didn’t even know existed? 

“How the hell am I supposed to remember something you never told me?! What am I supposed to remember?” 

You stepped down a few more stairs, closing the distance between you. Your stomach was tight, knotted with frustration. You were impatient, and it showed. You were sick of JJ’s cryptic bullshit.

Clear and direct. That’s all you needed. 

"You don’t remember." 

JJ shook his head. The moment his eyes drifted away from you, something inside you snapped. Whether it was anger or sadness, you weren’t sure, but you had reached your limit. 

"JJ. I need you to be straight with me right now. What the hell are you talking about?" 

Your voice rose without meaning to, and you shut your eyes tight, pressing your lips together. For just a second—just one second—you had forgotten that Liliana was upstairs. 

You turned your head, glancing toward the staircase, checking if she had heard or if she was coming down. But then, you heard a chuckle. Your brows knitted together. You had hoped—really hoped—that it wasn’t what you thought. But of course, it was. 

You turned your head sharply, eyes locking onto JJ, and of course, he was the one laughing. 

Of course. 

You had no idea how much more frustrating this situation could get, but you were about to lose your mind. JJ clearly needed some sleep. Otherwise, you’d be the one knocking him out and forcing him to rest—with a punch. 

Taking a deep breath, you kept your gaze fixed on him. JJ was staring at the floor, muttering almost to himself, "I’m an idiot. The biggest one." 

The moment you saw him move toward the stairs, your heartbeat picked up. You hated the way your body reacted to him getting closer. Even after the argument. 

He couldn’t just walk past you like nothing had happened. You weren’t going to let that slide. Not a chance. 

As he moved to step around you, the clean scent of him hit your nose, making your whole body tense. So, he hadn’t been outside all night. He had stayed somewhere. He had fresh clothes on. That feeling deep in your stomach made you shut your eyes tight for a second. You didn’t know where he had been. You didn’t know whose place he had stayed at. And— 

Screw it. His life. 

You grabbed his arm, gripping it tightly, stopping him in his tracks. He didn’t resist, didn’t try to move past you. It was like he had already accepted whatever was coming. "Tell me what you mean." 

JJ didn’t look at you. His gaze stayed on the edge of the stairs. He took a slow, deep breath. "A promise. You made me a promise. That no matter what, we’d always be there for each other. That’s it." 

As soon as the words left his mouth, he tried to move again. You stepped back quickly, blocking his path. This time, you were directly in front of him, but his eyes still refused to meet yours. You placed your hand on his chest, stopping him. "No, that’s not it. You’re lying. I know you." 

"Let it go." 

JJ shifted to move past you again, but you stepped in front of him once more. His chest brushed against yours, and for a second, your breath caught. He was standing on the lower step, yet he still towered over you. 

He could push you aside so easily. You both knew it. But he didn’t. 

Then, he lifted his head. The moment his eyes locked onto yours, you nearly stumbled. You felt like you should step back. Like you had to. But you didn’t. Not an inch. 

"JJ—" 

Your words died in your throat when his cold fingers touched your cheek. Your voice vanished. Unlike before, this time, he was looking directly at you. And you were certain—he was reading your mind. 

"Let it go," he murmured. "Like you said, all we do is hurt each other now." 

Hearing those words from him wasn’t the same as when you had said them. You were angry. But he—he was calm. Like he actually meant it. 

The words hit you like a punch to the stomach. Before you could process it, the warmth between you vanished. Your hand, the one that had been resting against his chest, dropped to your side. 

JJ averted his gaze, stepping down one more stair. The distance between you suddenly felt like miles. Neither of you looked at each other. 

"I’m gonna check on Liliana. I promised her a beach day tomorrow." 

You let him walk past you.

As the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, a light breeze swept across the beach. The waves lapped gently against the shore, mingling with the cheerful shrieks of children playing in the sand. JJ dusted off his thin t-shirt as he stood up, rubbing his eyes with his fingers before calling out to the small figure in the distance. 

“Lily! Come on! It’s getting dark,” he shouted. 

Liliana ignored his voice for a moment, carefully placing the final touches on her sandcastle. Her tiny fingers delicately lined up seashells, completely focused on making her towers perfect. Her face held a sweet kind of determination. But JJ wasn’t in the mood to linger much longer. Something restless and heavy stirred inside him—an unease that had been lingering for days now. 

Ever since that fight with you. It had messed him up more than he wanted to admit—left him feeling like he just wanted to disappear. 

He didn’t realize how much he had hurt Liliana until he walked into her room that night. The way she ran up to him, eyes wide and desperate, shattered him. And it wasn’t just because of her. It was because of you, too. Because of the second fight. 

He never wanted to start a fight, but those stupid feelings—those goddamn feelings—had him all twisted up. 

And if there was one thing he couldn’t get out of his head, it was kissing you. 

And then you had to go and mention Rafe, like it was nothing. Like it didn’t matter. Like it hadn’t been less than 24 hours since— 

Without even realizing it, he had brought Liliana back to the same beach where he had run into you. Only, this time, it wasn’t quiet. It was summer now, and the place was packed. Back then, it had been fall. Every time he glanced to the right, he could hear your voices in his head, replaying that conversation over and over. Every time he looked at the water, all he could see was the way you had laughed, the way you had splashed him, the way you had made him feel—light. Maybe that’s when it started. Maybe that’s when he started falling for you. He wasn’t sure. 

There had been other women since then—if you could even call them that. A handful, maybe. Dates that led to kisses that led to nothing. Nothing like what he had felt when he kissed you. 

You were water, and he was a man dying of thirst in the desert. 

For five years, he had taken other girls out on dates when it should’ve been you. It should’ve been you. 

But of course, you were drunk. JJ was just letting his mind run wild. You hadn’t been with anyone for five years, and people had needs—just like everyone else. Maybe, in that moment, he was just the most convenient option. You didn’t even remember. JJ had figured that out real quick. If you had, you would’ve said something. You would’ve reacted. 

But you just looked at him with those empty eyes, and it made him feel like absolute shit. 

He regretted it. And yet, he was grateful for it. It had pulled something out of him, something raw and real—something that probably should’ve stayed buried. 

He regretted it. He shouldn’t have done it. But he still wanted you to remember. 

No matter what happened, those moments shouldn’t have been just his to carry alone. 

Starting a fight had never been his goal. Swear to God. He just… hadn’t known how else to react. The kiss. You not remembering. And then Rafe. Like a slap in the face. 

He hadn’t wanted to leave, either. At least, not deep down. But if he had stayed, things would’ve just gotten worse. More fights. 

Was he sorry? Yeah. But was he angrier at himself than anything else? Also yeah. 

He ran a hand down his face and straightened up. As he watched Liliana keep working on her sandcastle, ignoring him completely, he took a deep breath. It was getting late. The sooner they got home, the faster she’d be asleep. 

He had just stepped forward to get her when a familiar laugh made his stomach drop. 

“Oh my God, are my eyes deceiving me?” 

JJ tensed. He knew that voice. Turning his head slightly, he saw three figures walking along the beach. He recognized them instantly—Topper, Kelce, and… Rafe. 

A punch to the chest would’ve been kinder. His hands curled into fists before he could stop himself. He hadn’t expected to see him again anytime soon. 

Kelce, always the cocky asshole, tilted his head with a smirk. “Man, you still alive?” His grin stretched wide, all teeth and mischief. 

Topper rolled his eyes, but he was grinning too. “We seriously thought you were dead. Swear to God.” 

JJ took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. This was not the kind of run-in he was equipped to deal with right now. He glanced back quickly, checking on Liliana—still playing. Good. He let out a slow exhale. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Rafe muttered, turning to the others with an unimpressed look. His voice made JJ’s skin crawl. 

JJ’s gaze flicked over Rafe. He had changed over the years, but not enough. The same arrogant posture, the same cold stare. It took everything in him not to let the anger boiling inside spill over. It wasn’t just personal hate—he hated everything about Rafe. Every. Damn. Thing. 

Except for one. 

Liliana. 

“As you can see, I’m alive,” JJ said, his voice surprisingly steady. Even he wasn’t sure how he managed it. 

It wasn’t like he had any real grudge against Topper or Kelce. He just couldn’t stand them. But Rafe? 

He loathed his entire existence. 

Kelce raised an eyebrow, pointing his beer at JJ with an amused look. “Just outta curiosity—not that I actually give a shit—but where the hell have you been for the last four years? There was a time when people were saying your dad straight-up killed you.” 

JJ clenched his jaw but forced a smile. Funny. He never thought he’d be someone people speculated about. 

He had just left. 

For you. 

And he had thought about coming back. So many times. But then he saw Liliana. He saw you. And that made it impossible.

You could’ve handled everything on your own. He knew you would succeed no matter what. But you didn’t have to. You would’ve been fine alone—you would’ve found a way. JJ knew that. But forcing you to do it? That wasn’t really his style. He wasn’t the kind of guy who’d walk away when he could make things easier for you, when he could help. 

Right now, his emotions were all over the place. His heart and mind weren’t on the same page. Especially when his brain kept screaming that he was going to lose you and Liliana. He was trying to pull himself together, but the second he got close to you, every logical thought in his body bailed on him. 

“So, since I’m standing here, I guess you figured out I didn’t do it. I was busy.” JJ cut straight to the point. There wasn’t much to explain. Especially not to them. 

Topper let out a loud laugh, stumbling as he nudged Kelce with his elbow. “I’d bet money he was out being a gigolo. The ladies’ favorite, right?” 

JJ rolled his eyes, annoyed. Same old dumb jokes, same pointless jabs… It was like time hadn’t moved at all. Like Topper was still that same kid from five years ago. 

How was it possible that while everyone else grew, evolved, added something to themselves, this guy was still stuck in the same childish loop? Had he seriously never done a single thing to improve himself? 

“Can we cut the crap?” Rafe muttered, eyes on the waves. He took a step back and sipped his beer. 

JJ realized just hearing his voice irritated him, so he quickly ducked down and kept gathering his stuff. The sooner he got out of here, the better. Especially after listening to these three run their mouths. 

Kelce grinned and turned to Rafe. “Come on, man! You don’t miss the old days?” 

“No. When are we getting on the boat?” 

“You’re such a buzzkill,” Kelce grumbled, glancing around. They were still standing in the same damn spot, as if there was nowhere else to be. 

JJ sighed, shaking his head. He really couldn’t stand them. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could put up with it. Straightening up, he grabbed his bag. “Yeah, yeah. Seeing you guys was terrible. Have fun.” He moved faster now, desperate to leave. 

But then Topper tilted his head, smirking. “Not even gonna say ‘happy birthday,’ Jackson?” 

JJ’s fingers clenched around the strap of his bag. He inhaled sharply, then turned to glare at Topper. The old him would’ve fired back with some sarcastic remark. But not now. Now, he just wanted to be done with this. “Happy birthday, Topper.” 

Kelce’s grin widened as he stepped closer. “Be honest—you started escorting, didn’t you?” 

This time, JJ actually laughed. If he weren’t living with you and Liliana, maybe he would’ve. He could’ve made some serious cash. “As tempting as it is to be a millionaire with this face—no.” He picked up his pace, avoiding eye contact, pretending Rafe wasn’t even there. 

“Same old ego—” 

And then Liliana’s voice cut through the air. “Why didn’t you look at my tower?!” 

JJ’s head snapped up. Her voice hit him like a bolt of lightning, sending a jolt of panic straight through his chest. And then he saw it—Rafe standing right next to her. 

His blood ran cold. 

Rafe was focused on Liliana, standing just a little behind her, but watching her intently. They shouldn’t be that close. No. 

JJ moved instantly, stepping in front of Liliana like a human shield. He reached out and gently placed a hand on her hair, making sure Rafe couldn’t see her clearly. “I did look,” he said quickly, keeping his tone even, trying to act normal. His heart was hammering in his chest. He needed to leave. Now. 

But Rafe… Rafe was already staring at her. Of course, he’d seen you and Liliana before. And of course, he remembered her. 

Shit. 

Liliana turned toward her sandcastle, pointing at it with a tiny hand. “Can we take it home?” 

JJ tensed. He cleared his throat and shook his head. Normally, he would’ve found that adorable. But not now. Not in this situation. He couldn’t even react. He just needed to get the hell out of here. “No, sweetheart. It belongs here.” 

And there it was—the thing he hated. Talking to Liliana in front of Rafe. Living through this exact moment. 

Goddamn it, he should’ve never come to the beach today. 

“But—Mommy would love it,” Liliana said. 

JJ swallowed against the lump in his throat. He took her hand and pulled her back slightly, reaching for the beach bag. “Mommy will help you build a new one when she gets back. Come on, grab your bag. It’s time to go.” 

“A kid?!” 

Kelce’s voice rang out, full of shock and amusement. “Damn! Holy shit. So that’s it. That’s why you’ve been so busy? Jesus.” 

JJ clenched his jaw. He didn’t want him talking about Liliana. He didn’t want any of them talking about her. 

“Shut up, Kelce,” Rafe muttered. 

JJ hadn’t meant to, but his eyes flicked to Rafe—and what he saw made his stomach tighten. 

Rafe looked… off. His expression wasn’t just shock. It was something deeper. Confusion. Anger. A kind of helpless frustration. 

It was all tangled together on his face, like he was trying to make sense of something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. His gaze kept bouncing—from JJ to Liliana, then back to you. Over and over, like he was connecting invisible dots in his head. 

Like he was trying to put together a puzzle. His lips parted slightly, his brows furrowed. And then JJ realized. 

Rafe didn’t know. 

Rafe had only ever thought about you and Liliana. Just the two of you. Not you, Liliana, and JJ. In his mind, it had never included JJ. Because— 

You’d never told him. 

You never told Rafe that JJ was in your life. 

And now, standing there, he was staring at you like a complete idiot, his face frozen in stunned disbelief. JJ felt his chest tighten, anger bubbling up. He wasn’t even sure who he was mad at. 

But underneath that anger, there was something else. 

A dull, aching kind of hurt. 

How could you not tell him?

Were you really coming to JJ for his opinion on Rafe meeting Liliana… but couldn’t even bring yourself to tell him you had someone in your life? 

JJ couldn’t help it—he felt hurt. He didn’t know if you were a family, but you had shouted at him that he was Liliana’s parent. You had said it, whether he liked it or not. And yet—despite saying it to him—you hadn’t mentioned him to Rafe. 

Fuck. 

Rafe took a step forward, and JJ swallowed hard. God, he hated him with every fiber of his being. 

“What’s her name?” Rafe’s voice was ice-cold—just like his expression. 

JJ’s fist clenched. He pulled Liliana a little closer as he spoke. “None of your damn business.” 

But Rafe stepped toward the little girl. “What’s your name?” His voice was steadier this time, more certain. He already knew—he had figured it out—but he needed to hear it. He needed confirmation, and JJ knew that all too well. 

Still—no matter how much he despised Rafe, he wasn’t going to lose it in front of Liliana. 

The second Rafe moved in, JJ dropped the beach bag and stepped right in front of him. Their chests nearly collided, the tension between them sharp enough to cut through the air. 

Rafe didn’t take his eyes off Liliana. 

JJ, on the other hand, stared straight at him. 

Kelce and Topper immediately went on high alert. Topper even grabbed Rafe’s arm, giving it a small tug—but Rafe didn’t budge. Not even an inch. 

“Back the fuck off,” JJ’s voice was lethal. 

When it came to Liliana, he wouldn’t hesitate. Not for a second. 

Liliana, sensing that someone was talking to her, tilted her head up and answered sweetly, “Liliana! But my family calls me Lily.” 

JJ squeezed his eyes shut for a second. He didn’t want to do this in front of her. Fighting in front of Liliana wasn’t an option. 

With a deep breath, he took a step back. 

“What the hell are you doing, man?” Kelce yanked Rafe’s arm harder this time, his face full of genuine confusion. 

Rafe staggered slightly, running a hand through his hair. 

He didn’t know what to do. 

His eyes kept darting between JJ and Liliana, his breaths coming out sharp and uneven. He was standing right by the ocean, in the open air, but somehow—it felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

JJ didn’t waste another second. He scooped Liliana up effortlessly. “Come on, Lily.” He grabbed the beach bag and turned. 

Then, just as he was about to leave, he glanced at Topper. For half a second, he debated whether to say anything at all. But in the end, he just sighed. “Happy birthday, Topper.” 

Liliana, ever the mimic, waved her little hand at him. “Happy birthday, Topper!” 

JJ walked off, moving fast. 

Meanwhile, Rafe stood frozen, stomach twisting, head spinning. He felt sick. He didn’t even know why—just that he couldn’t stand being here a second longer. And sure, it was Topper’s birthday, but right now? He couldn’t care less. 

What the hell was that? 

“What the hell was that, man?” Kelce echoed his thoughts, eyebrows furrowed. He was trying to make sense of what had just happened, but it wasn’t clicking. 

Rafe shook his head, his voice low and hoarse. “I’m not in the mood. I’m heading home.” 

He didn’t wait for a response. He didn’t even look back. 

Topper let out a slow whistle, mumbling under his breath. 

“The fuck was that?”

When JJ slammed the door shut, the sharp sound echoed through the house, thickening the already tense air. His shoulders were tight, his fingers gripping the door handle for a brief second before slowly relaxing. 

Running a hand through his hair, he let out a tired breath. His shirt still carried the salty trace of the ocean breeze, clinging to him like the weight of the day. He tugged at the fabric absentmindedly, fingers reaching up to rub the tension from the back of his neck—until a noise from the kitchen caught his attention. 

The soft clang of a metal spoon against a pot rang through the quiet house, making it sound even louder. 

Without rushing, he made his way down the hallway. When he reached the kitchen doorway, he saw you. 

Your back was to him. You had the lid of a gently simmering pot lifted, stirring the contents with steady, deliberate movements. The steam rose, hitting your face, but you didn’t flinch or pull back. Your expression was blank as you stared into the pot, but the way you stirred—rough, almost aggressive—gave you away. 

JJ knew you’d heard him come in. 

The slight tensing of your shoulders. The momentary pause of the spoon in your hand. 

You knew he was there. But you didn’t look up. 

Of course, you knew he was home—but after that argument? You had decided you weren’t acknowledging him just yet. If he was going to act like an ass, you could too. 

“Where’s Lily?” you asked, frowning slightly. You would’ve heard her by now if she were home. 

“With Cleo,” JJ answered, voice even. He didn’t look at you either. 

Your brows knitted together. Liliana being at Cleo’s didn’t make sense. Why would she be there? You followed JJ as he headed toward the living room, still not sparing you a glance. 

“I thought you were at the beach?” you said, stepping out of the kitchen. 

“We were.” His voice was devoid of emotion. 

God, that attitude was pissing you off. He was still acting like this because of your fight? Really? Like a damn child. 

You took a sharp breath, trying to rein in your irritation. 

“Then why is Liliana with Cleo?” Your tone had an edge to it now. You weren’t letting this slide—he owed you an explanation. 

JJ dropped onto the couch and, for the first time since he got home, finally turned to look at you. “Because we need to talk, and I can’t do that with Liliana in the house.” 

Your arms crossed as you leaned against the doorway, lifting a brow. “Oh? Thought you made yourself pretty damn clear this morning.” 

The memory of how he’d spoken to you earlier sent another wave of irritation through you. 

“And I don’t want to argue with you while Liliana’s home,” JJ continued, voice steady but tight with barely contained frustration. 

You scoffed, shaking your head. “So we’re gonna fight, huh? That’s what this is?” There was a mocking lilt to your tone. The irony of it all wasn’t lost on you—fighting seemed to be all you two did lately. 

JJ let out a dry chuckle. “Not exactly out of character for us these days, is it?” 

Despite the sarcasm, you could hear the undercurrent of resentment in his voice. He was sick of this, just like you were. But neither of you seemed to know how to stop. 

You exhaled slowly, rubbing your temples. This was exhausting. The constant tension, the biting remarks, the thick air of resentment clinging to every room you shared. “What are you mad about now?” you finally asked. 

JJ laughed—but there wasn’t a single ounce of amusement in it. 

“The beach,” he said, eyes locked on yours. “We were there. And then, out of nowhere, your boyfriend shows up.” 

Your posture stiffened instantly. The fuck was he on about now? 

Your brows pulled together, irritation spiking. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

JJ’s smirk disappeared, face darkening. “Rafe. He showed up.” 

Your jaw clenched. 

Oh, for fuck’s sake. 

He was acting like you had personally invited Rafe there, like you had orchestrated the whole thing. As if you had any control over where Rafe went and when. As if you even wanted to see him. 

Rolling your eyes, you turned on your heel, heading straight back to the kitchen. “You’re ridiculous.” 

JJ’s footsteps followed behind you almost instantly. 

You shook your head to yourself, already regretting even engaging in this conversation. You didn’t want to keep this fight going, didn’t want him following you, but you knew he wasn’t about to let it drop. 

“You really think I’m making shit up?” JJ’s voice was right behind you now. 

You grabbed the spoon and resumed stirring, refusing to look at him. “I don’t have time for your bullshit, especially not when you’re accusing me of stuff that makes no sense.” 

You heard the shuffle of his feet as he stepped into the kitchen. Your grip on the spoon tightened. 

“Oh, so I’m lying?” JJ’s voice dripped with mockery. “You two haven’t been talking again? What do you call that, then? A little romantic reunion, lovebirds?” 

Oh, he was doing this on purpose. You slammed the spatula down onto the counter, planting your hands on the marble. “For the love of God, will you just shut up?” 

JJ let out another humorless chuckle. “So this is where we’re at now?” 

Finally, you spun around to face him, leaning back against the counter. “I seriously cannot stand you right now. You show up just to pick a fight, then storm out like it’s my fault.” 

JJ spread his arms, smirk still plastered on his face. “So I’ve gone from best friend to unbearable? Great. That’s real fucking nice to hear.” 

That was it. Your patience snapped. 

“What the fuck is your problem?!” 

You were done. Done with the endless bickering, the passive-aggressive jabs, the way he kept pushing you for no reason. 

JJ’s smirk vanished instantly. His jaw tightened as he jabbed a finger in your direction, voice rising to match yours. “You! You are my fucking problem! You and whatever the hell you’ve been doing lately!” 

The room fell into an eerie silence. Your breaths were shallow, your heart pounding. JJ exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face, squeezing his eyes shut. 

You pressed your palms against the counter behind you, gripping it tightly. 

This wasn’t him. Not the JJ you knew. 

“I don’t understand you anymore,” you admitted quietly. “I’ve tried—but I just don’t.” 

JJ didn’t say a word. He didn’t even lift his head.

When you exhaled sharply, shaking your head, frustration tightened your chest. "I don’t understand you anymore either." 

You had always been upfront with him. Always. But he was leaving you hanging in this weird limbo, refusing to give you clarity while demanding it from you. He had no right to say that. You had never done anything to make things uncertain between you two. 

"I’ve always laid my cards on the table, JJ," you said, voice steady but edged with irritation. "If you don’t get me, it’s because you don’t want to." 

"Oh, sure. Of course," JJ scoffed, voice laced with sarcasm. He turned to leave, but then—he hesitated. And when he turned back, there was something unreadable in his eyes. 

"He didn’t know about me." The words slipped out so fast, they caught even him by surprise. 

"What?" You frowned, already preparing for whatever cryptic nonsense he was about to spout next. 

"Rafe," JJ clarified, jaw tightening. "He didn’t know about me." 

The realization hit you like a slap. So that was what this was about. 

You stared at him, waiting for him to say he was joking. Because surely—this had to be a joke. 

"You didn’t tell him about me?" JJ asked, his voice so serious it made your stomach twist. 

Your lips twitched slightly before you could stop them. A chuckle bubbled up, unbidden. You pressed a hand to your mouth, trying to contain it, but it was no use. Laughter slipped through, soft and incredulous. 

"You seriously think I spend every second talking to him?" you asked, amusement cutting through your exasperation. "I’ve seen him, what, twice? And neither time lasted more than ten minutes." 

JJ’s expression darkened. He didn’t seem amused in the slightest. "And yet, you didn’t mention me. You didn’t think to tell him that I’m a part of Liliana’s life?" 

Your eyebrows shot up. "Oh, so now you admit you have a say in Liliana’s life?" 

Because just this morning—hell, three days ago too—he had been going on and on about how he wasn’t her parent, how he had no claim over her. And now, suddenly, he cared? What, had a flower pot fallen on his head since the last time you spoke? 

You never knew which version of JJ you were going to get whenever he walked through that door. It was exhausting, trying to keep up. 

JJ opened his mouth like he was going to argue, but then he hesitated. You caught the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. 

You tilted your head, a little too entertained now. You knew him too well—knew this wasn’t just about Rafe. JJ was mad, sure, but there was something else underneath. Maybe even hurt. You had never really seen him like this before, but still, you knew him. Knew him down to his core. 

"You were practically screaming this morning about how you’re not a parent," you mused. "So what changed?" 

JJ rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair as he took a step back. "Don’t twist my words." 

You scoffed. "Oh, I’m twisting your words? That’s rich, coming from you." 

His refusal to just talk to you like a normal person was pushing you past your limit. What was so hard about explaining himself? Why did he always have to turn everything into a fight? Did he really think you wouldn’t understand? 

You shook your head. "That’s your thing, not mine." Your voice was sharp now, laced with frustration you couldn’t hide. 

You hated this—hated fighting with him like this. It felt wrong. It felt like something was breaking. And all you wanted was to put it back together. But every time you tried, it just—fell apart again. 

JJ let out a dry, humorless laugh, looking away. "Unbelievable." 

You couldn’t read his expression anymore. And you hated that. 

He ran his tongue over his teeth before giving you that half-smirk, the one that usually meant trouble. Your eye twitched. Was he seriously about to keep this up? He was standing here, acting like the victim, when he was the one who disappeared for three days without a word? When he hadn’t even bothered to explain himself? 

You didn’t want to compare him to Rafe. You really, really didn’t. But right now—he was acting just like him. 

Your patience snapped. 

You took a step forward, pointing a finger at him. "You’re the one who’s unbelievable." Whatever amusement you had before was gone. "How old are you, JJ? Because you sure as hell don’t act like a grown man. You don’t talk like one. All you know how to do is run away and leave me to figure out your mess." 

JJ’s jaw tightened. He shook his head, like he refused to accept what you were saying. "Don’t. Just—don’t." 

You arched a brow, taking another step closer. 

You never thought it would get like this between you two. JJ had been—everything. Your best friend. Your partner in crime. The one person you could always count on. And yet, here you were, standing inches apart, breathing heavy, anger crackling between you like a live wire. 

"Oh, what? You don’t like what I’m saying?" You let out a bitter laugh. "What’s next, huh? You gonna throw all the things you’ve done for me in my face? Or maybe, this time, when things get too hard, you’ll just leave for good? You’ll walk away from me and Liliana—" 

A hand clamped over your mouth, cutting you off mid-sentence. 

JJ had moved fast. Too fast. His eyes burned into yours, inches away, his palm firm but not forceful against your lips. His other hand—when had that landed on your waist? 

His voice was low, steady. "I would never do that." 

He held your gaze like he needed you to believe him. Like he was silently daring you to contradict him. His eyes flickered between yours, searching—pleading, even. 

But JJ was a liar. 

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, prying his hand away. He let you. He didn’t fight it. He moved with you, like he was mirroring your actions. Slow, controlled. 

"I don’t believe you," you said, not even hesitating. 

Maybe he wouldn’t leave. Maybe he really meant what he said. But you wanted to hurt him, just like he had hurt you. And for the first time, you saw it in his face. The flicker of something breaking.

Just as he stepped back, ready to retreat, the grip around your waist tightened. You couldn’t move.

JJ wasn’t going to let you have the last word. His gaze stayed locked onto yours, pupils blown wide. “I’m not that kind of person. You know that.” His voice was a low, angry whisper.

You swallowed hard. His breath fanned across your face. A part of you wanted to slap him, to take out every bit of pain and frustration from the past three days. You wanted him to pay for walking out on you, to shove him right back into whatever girl’s bed he had been crashing in.

You shook your head, eyes narrowing. He had no right to say this. Not after leaving you waiting by the door for three days straight. The JJ you knew—if he said he was coming back, he came back. He didn’t leave you staring at the door, wondering if he ever would.

“I don’t think I know you anymore.” Your voice was just as quiet as his, but you felt the sting of it in your own chest.

You hated the effect he had on you. Hated that he could still make you feel like this. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. You were used to people walking away, used to getting hurt, used to betrayal. But JJ? You had leaned on him. He was supposed to be different. He had never let you down before.

And you know what? That made it hurt even worse.

JJ exhaled sharply, shaking his head. A bitter smirk ghosted his lips. “But you do,” he murmured.

You weren’t sure if he was trying to convince you or himself.

“I don’t think so.”

You knew him better than anyone. That’s why you lied. Because deep down, you knew that if he just talked to you—if he just explained what the hell was going on—you wouldn’t even be fighting right now. But JJ was stubborn. Too stubborn. And you knew he’d never do that.

JJ took a half-step back, but his hand never left your waist. His brows lifted slightly. “So what now? What’s your next move?”

You shrugged. That wasn’t your problem. He was the one who needed to explain, the one who needed to apologize. Were you going to sit around and wait? No. You’d go back to Asheville alone if you had to. But he needed to say something. If this was how it was going to be, maybe your time as friends had run its course.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But if you had just talked to me instead of throwing baseless accusations around, we wouldn’t even be here.”

JJ sucked in a sharp breath, stepping closer. His frustration radiated off him. “You drive me insane,” he muttered, his jaw tight. One hand ran through his hair, eyes squeezing shut.

You stared at him in disbelief. Oh, sure. Like this was your fault.

Before you could stop yourself, you shoved him—hard. He didn’t budge. If anything, the force just brought you closer to him. But you didn’t back down. You jabbed a finger into his chest.

“Oh, I drive you insane?” Your voice rose, incredulous. “You’re the one who’s making me lose my mind!”

How the hell was this getting turned around on you again? How did he always make it seem like you were the problem?

JJ opened his eyes, calm now, which only made your anger burn hotter. He tilted his head slightly, watching you. Everything about him irritated you in this moment. He didn’t even have to speak. Just existing right now was enough to piss you off.

His indifference. The way he had yelled at you earlier. The way he walked out, promising to come back but never did. The thought that he had been God-knows-where for three days, probably in someone else’s bed. The fact that when he finally returned, he acted like you were the one in the wrong. The never-ending fights. The accusations. The way he could still compare you to Rafe—

Your stomach twisted with disgust. Not just anger. Disgust.

How dare he? After everything, how could he act like this was just some normal breakup? Like you were just going to go crawling back? You almost lost the baby, for fuck’s sake. You spent four years suffering, and he was the first person to see that pain firsthand.

You trusted him. You—you loved him. And the first chance he got, he threw it back in your face like it was nothing.

Fuck him.

He had left you. He had made you wonder if he was ever coming back. And now? Now you were the bad guy? Again? Just like when you were pregnant and chose not to go through with the abortion? Just like every other time when somehow, it was always your fault?

Fuck that.

“You never listen to me,” you snapped. “I came to you for this decision, but you—”

You tried to explain yourself. Again. Even though you shouldn’t have to. You should just tell JJ to go to hell and be done with it. But here you were, still trying to make him understand.

Your voice faltered. Because you didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. But God, you wished you did. It would hurt a lot less if you could just hate him.

But before you could say anything else, JJ moved.

His hand caught yours, gripping it tight. Before you knew what was happening, he tugged you forward. His other arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer—

Then he dipped down, and before you could even register what was happening, his lips crashed against yours.

For a moment, your brain blanked.

It didn’t last long.

Your free hand instinctively moved to his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. You weren’t thinking. Every sound in your head shut off.

JJ’s hand tightened around your waist, thumbs brushing slow circles against your skin. The kiss deepened, urgent, like he was making up for every second he had spent away.

He guided you backward. You took a few steps before your lower back bumped against the kitchen counter. You barely even noticed. JJ made a quiet sound against your lips when you pulled him in closer by the nape of his neck.

His hands slid lower, fingers gripping at your hips. Your heart pounded. A warning, maybe. But you ignored it. You didn’t want to think about right or wrong right now.

Because this—this was right. JJ’s hands on you. The way your bodies fit together effortlessly. The way every movement, every kiss, felt like second nature.

Like you were made for this.

JJ’s hands moved, gripping beneath your thighs. In one smooth motion, he lifted you, setting you on the counter. You gasped softly at the sudden movement, your hands flying to his shoulders.

Now you were eye level. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you in again, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

You both pulled back at the same time, gasping for air. When your eyes met for just a second, something stirred inside you. JJ closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours, your uneven breaths the only sound filling the space. 

His hands stayed on your hips. As you tilted your head up slightly, his lips brushed against yours again. Your hand instinctively reached for his cheek, but this kiss was shorter than you expected. JJ turned his head away, breaking it off, and you licked your lips absentmindedly. 

Slowly, his hands slid away from your hips. His gaze was somewhere else as he cleared his throat, rubbing his head like he was trying to shake something off. 

"I'm sorry. I— I shouldn’t have done that." 

The words hit like a punch to the gut. 

Standing there, you felt completely exposed, like he had stripped you down to your very core. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears while your hands had turned ice cold. 

Had that really just happened? Had you imagined it? Because once again, JJ was acting like it hadn’t. 

Was he regretting it? You hadn’t done anything wrong. Right? 

Had you crossed a line? 

You didn’t know what was happening, why he had suddenly pulled away, but there was a burning sting at the tip of your nose. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. 

You moved to step down from the counter, his name on the tip of your tongue—but JJ took another step back. His eyes never once met yours. 

"I should go. I— I don’t know what I’m doing. I wasn’t thinking. This was a mistake. I’m sorry. I’m really really sorry." 

Then, without so much as a glance, he walked out of the kitchen. 

You stayed frozen where you were. The sound of a door closing echoed through the house moments later, making you flinch. 

He had left you again. Left you alone in this house, only this time, with even deeper wounds. 

You had no idea what would happen next—you weren’t a fortune teller. But what you did know was that the real question wasn’t about the future. It was about how you were ever supposed to trust him again. 

Because JJ had just erased five years of your past like they meant nothing. 

He had been the one to protect you, and the one to hurt you. The one to kiss you, and the one to walk away. 

And you? Where did you fit into this story? Were you always just the one left behind? 

There had to be a reason. A justification for why he had snapped, for why he kept pushing and pulling, for all of it. But the worst part? 

You weren’t even sure if you wanted to hear it anymore. 

Your lips trembled as you shut your eyes. 

Five years later. Same island. Same feeling of being abandoned. 

Only the names had changed. 

Your mind replayed the image of Rafe walking out the door the moment he found out about Liliana. 

You had called Rafe a coward, hadn’t you? He was. But what about JJ? 

JJ was just another coward, just as fucked-up as the rest of them. Maybe the real mistake had been trusting anyone more than yourself in the first place. Maybe that’s what these last few days had been trying to tell you all along. 

Pathetic. 

You had trusted him more than you had ever trusted yourself. And for what? 

For him to run the first chance he got—just like the last one. 

Turns out, five years hadn’t changed a damn thing. Five years ago, you were an idiot. And now? 

Still the same damn fool.

[johnwickb1tsch]

lessons in anatomy XII

a yandere art professor John Wick x drawing model muse! reader AU... (also featuring Matt from River's Edge. If you haven't seen the movie that's ok, I will fill in the gaps as we go...) warnings: dark adult themes, violence, sex, drugs, yandere shit. plz don't read if u can't handle it ->chapter map

XII.

You can't leave your apartment for weeks. 

It's not that you just don't want to, or you don't feel like it. You literally, physically, cannot make yourself go out. 

Scared is an understatement. The dread you feel for the outside world is like a syrupy poison that has filled your bones. 

You were fearless once, but that was before something bad happened to you. Turns out that maybe deep down you've been a coward all along. 

Matt called you again later, to tell you that Samson and Layne seemed to have gone missing. A part of you is afraid that they're still out there, waiting. But another part of you whispers that they've gone somewhere they can't return from. 

He asks if you want some company, but you turn him down. You don’t blame him for what happened, but you don’t think you can handle it just yet. 

You call in for several shifts at the bookstore, which is not going to help your net income at all. You have some savings, but you really shouldn’t dip into them for this. You wanted to use it on a cool trip, not an agoraphobic staycation. But life happens, and it seems like hiding under your blanket has become your thing. 

You have nightmares of Samson reaching for you, and Layne’s cruel smile. 

You also dream of him.

Your mysterious Lone Wolf in his elegant mask. 

In your dreams you have the sense to let him take you in his arms and not let go. You dream of running from some looming danger with your smaller hand in his. You dream of kissing him, and his claws upon your tender bare flesh in the shadows where it feels like you are alone together.   

Every time you wake up in a cold sweat, longing for something that can never be. Not only did you miss the opportunity to unravel his mystery because you were too much of a coward. Matt’s friends are still missing, and you’ve begun to think that whoever that man in the wolf mask had been…he may have exacted a vengeance on those two that could land him in a lot of trouble, if anyone found out. 

You have no proof of anything. Your memory of the night isn’t even reliable. Just when you think you can put your finger down on something…it slips away into shards of images and feelings and sounds, but nothing you can hold onto.  

At first you fill your time with a lot of staring at the wall in the dark.

Then, a creative wind hits you, and you sit at your desk manically painting and cutting and glueing tiny bits of paper into one of the vintage boxes you’d picked up at the thrift shop that day with John. You make a scene of a towering dark forest in deep purples and blues with fog rolling through the trees, and teeny tiny dolls of Little Red Riding Hood chased by a pack of wolves. And even though it might be terribly incriminating…you add a van on fire in the distance, flames licking out of every window. When you finish you feel slightly better about it all–or at least like you’ve gotten something off your chest. 

Maybe you don’t know what happened…but you lived. You shouldn’t feel guilty about that…right? 

You close up the little box and bury it deep in a drawer, a secret just for you. 

You also know that maybe you shouldn’t be keeping that wolf mask on such open display on your nightstand…but you can’t bring yourself to move it just yet. It makes you feel better, just having it there like a totem to ward off evil, as though if you should move it your attackers might come back for you.  

Your groceries dwindle, until you are down to nibbling on an old box of stale crackers you had leftover from a gettogether months ago. They are not good, but you don’t really taste them anyway. 

When your next modeling session comes up you know you have to go, for your own sanity as much as anything. Your appointments at the school are less frequent, but they pay better than any of your other gigs. 

You're not wild about the idea of taking your clothes off at the moment, but it's not the class Matt is in, and it’s not like Professor Wick pays any attention to you anymore anyway. You are just a body. Flesh to be transferred with marks on paper, with no special feeling. 

Once, there was a certain freedom in that, but for some reason now it just leaves you feeling hollow inside. 

TBC...

___

->chapter map pinterest board/ photo credits

[obitez]

Little Bo Peep

written for @bucktommywinterfest

Round 13: Meet cute and different jobs

Rating: G | Word Count: 1732

Additional Tags: No firefighters

Warnings: None

When Tommy got out of the Army, he could have moved anywhere in the United States and probably qualified for a wide assortment of jobs. Aircraft mechanic, car mechanic, supply manager, truck driver, and heavy equipment operator for various construction equipment. Tommy never got around to being certified on cranes though, shame. 

He ended up moving to a small beach town about two hours north of Los Angeles, when his uncle offered to let him take over his old bookstore - and it was probably one of the few jobs the Army didn’t train him for. 

Tommy didn’t know a thing about owning, running, and managing a bookstore. Had never even worked in one. Sure, he was a reader and read a lot of books, but the books he read were… not that popular with the general population. 

He doubted there were that many enjoyers of Napoleonic War dramas and biopics. At least in the states. Most of the online forums and reddit pages consisted of people in the UK. 

Although his uncle had told him that delivery services like Amazon and the like hadn’t moved into the town yet so the store was still the main supplier of books for the town, and if he listened to the book clubs that used the table in the back as their meeting location, they would give him the lists of up and coming books from all genres that he needed to keep in stock. 

And looking at the finances for his first official month as owner, he guessed his uncle had a point. 

That didn’t mean the whole thing was easy however, far from it. 

“I don’t think your parents will be that pleased if I sell this book to you,” Tommy told the nine year old girl as she placed the book on the sale counter. The book itself was a raunchy romance novel with a deceiving cover filled with cats and puppies. Tommy never expected to become a romance reader after moving here, but the book club that met Monday evenings pulled him into being one. 

“They said that I can read whatever books I want,” the girl countered. 

“And I think when they said that they implied any children’s book you want.”

“It’s called Puppy Love and has a bunch of puppies on it. How’s that not a children’s book?” the girl asked. 

“It’s not a children’s book because you got it from the adult section, that’s located all the way upstairs,” Tommy pointed to the stairwell that led to the upstairs bookcases. The bookcases Tommy specifically remembered restocking that book with that very morning. 

The girl huffed, a frown on her face and spun on her heel to go back to a shelf in the young adult section. Tommy picked up the book she had left and placed it on a shelf under the counter, filled with other books that he would need to restock once the customers left.

Then, ten seconds later, another person came up to the counter, setting down five books to purchase. So much for a short break. 

Halfway through the afternoon, there was a short spall when there were only five customers in the store. When Carlos, the highschooler he had hired to help around on his free afternoons came by, Tommy took the opportunity to leave the register to him and get started on the various tasks he needed to complete around the shop. 

“So you’re the new guy that Mr. Paul was talking about?” a voice sounded from behind him as he was restocking the shelves in the cookbook section. 

Tommy turned around and looked up. 

There stood a tall guy, maybe a half inch shorter than him, shirt curly hair gelled back, blue green eyes, and big muscles. 

“I take it you’re talking about my uncle?” Tommy asked. 

“Yeah,” The guy nodded, and Tommy spotted a small birthmark right above one of his eyebrows. It was cute. “He was telling me that he was about to retire and give the place to his nephew, I just didn’t…”

“Expect his nephew to look like me?” Tommy asked. The man was silent for a second, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. Tommy laughed. “Don’t worry,” he said. “You’re not the first person to say it.”

Half of the old ladies who came in the first week he was running the place said the same thing. What was a man with his looks and muscles doing running a bookstore out in this town? He should be down south in LA, hitting up all the bars and clubs down there.

“Y- yeah… oh… yeah, what you said,” the man continued, stammering over his own words, looking way out of his element. 

 📚  📚  📚  📚  📚

Buck looked at the small unassuming bookstore from where he stood in the cafe across the street. When he had been driving through the sleepy seaside town five years ago he had run low on cash, he had walked into the cafe and asked about the help wanted sign taped on the front window. Five years later and he was still there, and had made friends and a pseudo family with people throughout the town. 

One of the people he had come to regard as a friend was the owner and runner of the bookstore across the street, who had told him a couple of months ago that he was retiring and going to move to be closer to his sister in Oregon, and leaving the store to his nephew, who no one in the town had met before. 

Buck didn’t know how he should feel about it. Leaving one of the most popular shops in town to some stranger. 

“Have you met the guy who took over the bookstore, yet?” Buck asked as they were setting up one morning, pulling the outdoor tables outside. 

“Guy that took over the bookstore?” Eddie asked as he carried a set of chairs outside. 

“Yeah,” Buck nodded. “The old owner retired and moved out, gave the place to his nephew.” 

Eddie shrugged. “I only go there when Christopher needs to get a book for school,” he said. “Haven’t been there since like… last October or something like that.” 

Buck hummed to himself as he looked across the street at the store. It didn’t look any different, the same as it had since he moved to this town. He would have to go over there once he got off shift and meet the new man for himself. 

He and Eddie ended their shift around 2:30, and while Eddie drove down the street to the elementary school to pick his son up, Buck made his way to the bookstore across the street. 

Buck opened the door and heard the same bell chime that had sounded the numerous times he had come here over the previous years. The inside of the store looked the same as well. Same signs above the bookshelves, same sales counter, the only things that were really different were the books that were on the featured and new releases shelves. But those shelves always showed something different every time Buck came in. 

Buck spotted a disinterested guy who was clearly a teenager standing behind the counter, he vaguely recognized him from around town and guessed that he wasn’t the guy who had taken the store over. Then his gaze traveled upwards to the second story, seeing a man, probably a couple years older than him, unloading books from a box and setting them onto one of the bookshelves. 

Buck walked up the stairs and then studied the man for a second before going over to talk to him. He was kneeling on his knees, but Buck guessed he would probably be around his height if he stood up. He was also pretty muscular, a lot more than Buck would assume any bookstore owner would have any need to be. 

But then again, maybe he did? Books got heavy after a while, didn’t they? 

Buck cleared his throat as he walked up to the bookshelf and Buck saw the man’s shoulders perk up. “So… you must be the guy Mr. Paul was talking about?” Buck asked.  

The man turned his head and shoulders to look up at Buck, raising an eyebrow he asked, “I take it you’re talking about my uncle?” 

“Y- yeah,” Buck stammered, suddenly growing nervous as he felt the man study him. “H- he was telling me that he was about to retire and give the place to his nephew, I just- I didn’t…

“Expect his nephew to look like me?” the man said as he let out a soft laugh and stood up from where he was stocking the books. Buck got a better look at him now. And if possible, Buck thought he looked better than he had before. Buck stumbled over his words, and the man laughed again. “Don’t worry,” he said. “You’re not the first person to say that.”

Oh, that made Buck feel slightly better, he thought. 

“Y- yeah… oh… yeah, what you said,” Buck said as he still stumbled over his words. 

The man then held out his hand to him. “Tommy Kinard,” he said as he introduced himself. 

Buck took it as he shook the man’s, Tommy’s, hand. “Evan Buckley,” he said. 

Tommy smiled then, and Buck thought it was a nice smile. Buck thought that he would like to see it more often. “Nice to meet you, Evan.”

Buck couldn’t even find it in himself to tell the man he didn’t go by Evan.

 📚  📚  📚  📚  📚

“So, Evan,” Tommy started as he walked up to the front counter of the cafe the following morning. Buck perked his head up from where he was cooking up an omelet behind the counter. “What would you recommend here?” 

Buck smiled as he turned his head to face Tommy. “Well, Bobby’s not here today, so I’m head chef.” 

Tommy’s face took on that soft smile it had yesterday. “So what would you recommend then?” he asked. 

Buck hummed in thought. “I thought up this apple waffle recipe yesterday, would you like to be my guinea pig?” 

“Why not?” Tommy said as he took a seat. “Let me see ‘em.” 

“He calls you Evan?” Eddie asked later as Tommy walked back across the street to the bookstore. 

Buck rolled his eyes. “So what?” he asked, only slightly blushing.

[livmightlive]

Maze Runner AU backstories

alright! Here are the backstories to the main guys in my maze runner AU! This is before they’re put in the maze. I’m sorry it’s so long, I was gonna write even more but I think that would turn it into a behemoth 😭

here’s a short chart of everyone’s ages and age that they entered HYLIA

Age lineup 

First is age taken. Second is their current age. The timeline in years is also included (being the year of the age they were taken. They all enter the maze in year XX86)

Warriors:   0yo* - 21yo  XX65

Time:        11yo - 23yo  XX74

Legend:    7yo - 18yo   XX75

Hyrule:      9yo - 17yo   XX78

Four*:        8yo - 16yo   XX78

Sky:          12yo - 19yo  XX79

Twilight:    13yo - 19yo  XX80

Wild:         11yo - 17yo  XX80

Wind:        10yo - 14yo  XX82

and here’s the backstories!

Warriors: Warriors was raised in HYLIA. His parents worked there and had him tested shortly after he was born for resistances to gloom and mind control technology. He tests very well, sliding into that <1% of the population that has significant resistance to the building apocalypse. He won’t know this until he’s an adult, but his resistances aren’t natural. He’s one of the first to be the product of genetic engineering, also one of the only successful cases. From a young age he’s trained in leadership classes and in other courses. When he’s 9 he’s told that a new program will run soon with other children like him and that it’s his responsibility to lead and represent them. The first kid in the program is time, who’s just a little bit older than Wars is. He doesn’t really care about how bossy Wars is, he kind of just goes along with whatever he wants. Wars is secretly happy to have a friend who isn’t Artemis, another kid like him who will lead any girls who enter HYLIA. Things are good until LEGEND comes along. Legend is the first person he meets who opposes HYLIA and isn’t there by choice. So he tries to steer him in the right direction but it goes poorly. It’s not much better when Hyrule comes along bc Legend immediately attaches himself to the kid. It goes on like that, and after a while Warriors finds that he’s not actually friends with any of the other boys except for Time and maybe Wind but that’s embarrassing bc Wind is a child. HYLIA uses Wars as the golden child of the group which he takes a lot of pride in. Deep down he really wishes they didn’t so that maybe he could join in on the easy comradery that the other boys have. When HYLIA tells Wars about the maze he agrees that it’s for the best. There is (seemingly) no other way to grab such important, and life saving data, as this. Hyrule being sent in first is kind of a traumatizing event for everybody but he doesn’t let it shake his resolve. After watching the maze for months, he finds himself questioning HYLIA’s methods. As soon as he voices his concerns, he’s sent into the maze.

Time: (I wanna thank @pepperpuppy417 for this one, a suggestion of theirs really helped!) Time grew up in a foster home out in the boonies of Hyrule. He grew up very happy in the countryside of Hyrule and lived in nature. Unfortunately when he was a kid the cult released a new variant of the gloom in the forest by the small town he lived in. This variant had the ability to spread not just to Hylians, but to flora and fauna as well. Soon his entire village gets sick, him included. When the Hylian royal army comes he overhears some dignitaries talking about burning down the entire village and forest deeming it a lost cause. He tells his foster father who tells him to run, so he does. He escapes the army but he bumps into a stranger right away. He’s too sick to run by this point, but the stranger treats his gloom sickness and miraculously he makes a recovery. He starts traveling with this stranger for two years. He never gets any name to call him except for Fierce. Their time starts coming to an end when Fierce starts dying due to a brain tumor. He asks if he can give Time a gift. A selfish one. Time accepts and Fierce implants a microchip into the top of his spine. He tells Time that when he needs to use it, he’ll know. Time doesn’t know what this means for a long time. He and Fierce get apprehended by Hyrulean guards. They find that Time has significant resistance to both gloom and mind controlling tech. He’s surprised because he didn’t used to be but says nothing. He’s sent to HYLIA and never sees Fierce again. He doesn’t trust them from the get go but goes with it. He likes Warriors, despite thinking he’s a bit brainwashed, but he senses a very earnest, kind person in him. Even if he’s neurotic. He becomes a bit of a big brother to all of the other boys in his ward. Time is always calm, he has a lot of humility. Time is biding his time, waiting for revenge, for his time. (Geez how many times can I say time??) Everyone is surprised when he reacts poorly to the idea of the maze. He’s been very compliant with Hylia up until now. He starts getting more and more vocal about how it isn’t right. They send him in shortly after Legend. 

Hyrule: Was found as a homeless child in a “cult town”. Cult towns are towns with a lot of the mind controlling technology around so that everyone in it is at the whims and wills of the cult. Hyrule, and Dawn and Aurora, were kids in that town that somehow didn’t get affected by the technologies. When the kingdom of Hyrule was finally able to overthrow that town, they sent Hyrule, and the girls, to HYLIA. He has the best resistance to the mind control out of anybody in the chain, but he has no resistance to the gloom. He and Legend have been like brothers since meeting. Legend took Hyrule under his wing because he wasn’t allowed to stay in the girls wing with people he already knew. He’s super grateful to Legend and looks up to him. Hyrule considers Wild to be his best friend. Hyrule was one of the people trusted to keep an eye on Wild when he was introduced to the group bc they knew any lingering effects of the mind control wouldn’t hurt him. Hyrule is sent into the maze first due to his high marks in survival courses, good attitude in high stress scenarios, and because they were slightly okay with him dying. They sent a person with the very good odds of being able to survive alone but also a person who wouldn’t be a total loss if they were to die. His lack of resistance to gloom is what sealed his fate. They’ll be able to go full out with the mind controlling technology when it’s just Hyrule in there but many of the others have good resistance to it as well. What Hyrule doesn’t have is gloom resistance, something they also really want to look into. It was between him and Wild. He, and the chain, were only told a day before he would be sent in. Legend freaked out so badly that he had to be sedated. He wasn’t able to say goodbye before Hyrule was sent in. 

Legend: Legend grew up with his uncle away from his father due to family drama surrounding Legend’s birth. (His father cheated on his wife and Legend was born out of it.) Legend’s uncle contracts the gloom and sends him to his father before he dies. Legend's father freaks out bc Legend has to be infected after living with somebody who had the gloom for months. Miraculously he doesn’t, so they have him tested and he’s just about immune. His sister is as well. Legend's family sends him and his sister to HYLIA where they both grow extremely resentful of their family and of HYLIA. Legend hated those early days. The only other people were Wars and Time and they wouldn’t spend much time with him. He and Wars also constantly butted heads. He was so lonely. When Hyrule comes, Legend attaches himself to him and makes sure Hyrule isn’t alone like he was. Legend is horrified when Hyrule is going to be sent into that place alone so he protests. Too hard. He wakes up in the med wing horrified when he realizes they didn’t let him say goodbye. He’s constantly monitoring Hyrule. You can’t pull him from the screen. When Hyrule gets hurt, Legend begs to be sent in. It takes two weeks but they finally relent and then Legend is officially the second person to be let in.

(The Four): So I decided to split Four into the colors, I feel like the maze needed more people bc it was kinda sparse and then I realized that Four can literally be 4 people. So Vio, Red, Green, and Blue are all half brothers. Their father, a captain to the royal guard, had a four month break one year and in that time he decided to have a bit of a ho phase. Later that winter a woman appeared at his house and begged him to take custody of their child. He agreed, being more well off than her and welcomed Vio into his home. To his shock, the same thing happens 3 MORE TIMES THAT WINTER. Obviously he gets dna tests and yup. All four are his. His father helps raise them, honestly does most of the job since the captain is very busy with work. The colors live very happily with their grandfather until a mind control machine is dropped into their village.. everyone in the town but the boys get messed up from it, going fits or dissociative states. He sends the colors to live with their father again. The captain is shocked that none of the boys are hurt. They get tested and lo and behold, they have a good amount of resistance to the mind control machines. Their father sends them to Hylia thinking it will be a really good opportunity for them to get better schooling. The colors do pretty well, they all have each other at the end of the day. The one issue is that they get RELENTLESSLY bullied by another kid named Shadow. Shadow got in just before they did and is of a similar age. Eventually Vio befriends him and they all find out that he’s just insecure yadda-yadda. Shadow is a weird case because he has no resistance to gloom or mind control, but was infected by gloom until he reached a stage 3 state and somehow recovered which was thought to be impossible. He’s involved in different testings than the chain. The colors and shadow all grow really close, Vio and him even becoming boyfriends. When they get sent to the maze, Shadow copes poorly.

Sky: I feel bad. For Sky I’ve had the most trouble with his backstory, (dw, I’ve got plans for him when he’s actually in the maze), so I apologize to his fans. Sky grew up pretty upper class basically in the royal family being born to a very high ranking royal guard. He was being trained to be Sun’s personal guard. When they’re both 12 they go through regular preteen checkups and the royal family is incredibly relieved that the heiress and her guard have substantial resistances to both gloom and the mind controlling technology that’s terrorizing Hyrule. To further keep them safe from an increasingly angry public and worsening political atmosphere they’re both sent to Hylia where they can get fantastic educations while keeping them out of the public eye. Sky keeps quiet about where he’s come from because he quickly realizes that a lot of these kids are not as fortunate as he is. He also quickly realizes that he’s treated a little bit differently than the rest of the kids. Some of them get physical training, a lot of them choose self defense courses. Sky does too, wanting to keep on top of his training. He quickly realizes that while their trainers are okay with occasionally injuring say Time or Hyrule, or honestly any of the other boys and girls, he’s never come out with anything worse than a bruise. He makes the choice to be the nice kid, the one who won’t start beef or trouble because this place is VERY troubling. Before he can really figure out what’s wrong and how he can fix it, the maze is launched and that solidifies his worries. This place isn’t what it says it is. They tolerate it when he’s caught sending messages to the royal family about his worries but they swiftly react when they find out he’s been trying to send messages to outside friends as well. They send Sun into the maze which basically sends Sky into a rage nobody ever predicted possible from the gentle guy. They sedate him and when he next wakes, it’s in the maze.

Twilight and Wild: These two have a story that is too intertwined to not tell together. They both grew up in the same orphanage. They had always been closer with each other over the other children and considered themselves to be brothers. The cult launches a mind control machine in their town and it lands on the outskirts. It doesn’t immediately plunge the town into a subservient dissociative state but everyone starts suffering from severe migraines and some start to struggle with seizures. Nobody can move it because the waves get stronger the closer one moves towards it. Wild doesn’t like what the technology is doing, he thinks it’s mean. Twilight listens to him complain about it but he tries to tell him that the Hyrule Royal Guard will send somebody to deal with it soon. Nobody comes and people start dying or dipping into the aforementioned dissociative states. Twilight wakes up to find Wild gone. Twi is panicked and runs after Wild to find him heading towards the mind controller. Wild manages to destroy it by the time Twilight catches up. He finds Wild unconscious bleeding from his nose and mouth, barely alive. Twilight doesn’t notice that he himself only has a small headache from standing so close to the machine. He drags him back to town desperately trying to find help. Wild wakes up, but it’s with little cognitive function. He can’t eat by himself, he can’t bathe himself, he can’t speak. Twilight is devastated, feeling deeply as if he failed to protect him. Only after the mind controller is destroyed does the government send anybody to the town. Twilight immediately hates them. He hates that he ever thought they could help. To his horror, he realizes that they might be able to now. He swallows his pride and asks one, who he doesn’t realize is a HYLIA representative, if they can fix his brother. They listen to his story and test Twilight to see if he’s mind control resistant. He is. They agree to help him if he agrees to join their program. Of course he does. While they fix Wild they discover that he’s incredibly resistant to gloom. It’s probably the reason they let him live. When Wild wakes up from surgery he can’t remember anything. Not even Twilight. Twilight is willing to rebuild his relationship with Wild, but there’s a deep anger boiling within him. He doesn’t think Wild’s loss of memory was a side effect. When the maze is proposed Wild is one of the first people willing to go in. Twilight does everything in his power to stop this.

Wind: Wind and his little sister are raised in a small beach town that’s pretty protected from the rest of Hyrule. Things are peaceful for a long time until, of course, they’re not. The gloom has spread to the waters near his small fishing town and people start getting sick fast. His grandmother becomes very ill from the gloom and it turns from her looking out for Wind and Aryll to them looking out for her. Wind, despite barely being 10, knows he has to do something and fast. Regular people can barely survive the gloom. A woman of her age makes the odds so much worse. He sets out to find somebody who can work and finds a government camp nearby who are probably there to stop the gloom from spreading into major waterways. He begs for an antidote and they take interest. Wind and Aryll have been closely exposed to their infected grandmother for days, maybe weeks, and show no signs themselves. They agree to help but will need a favor in return. They treat granny and tell Wind and Aryll there’s a place they can go where they can help everyone. Granny greatly encourages them, she believes it will be safer for them there rather than out here. So Wind and Aryll go to HYLIA, the last people to arrive. The older kids dote on them, even though Wind doesn’t think he needs it. He and Aryll also, unfortunately, kind of become a mechanism of control for the “rowdy” older kids. When something goes wrong or somebody acts up, HYLIA is not afraid to put either Wind or Aryll in the way. When the maze opens and many people begin voicing their discontent, Wind is sent in as a message to the other boys.

anywho!!!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LMK ANY THOUGHTS! I have a lot more info in my head but I think it would be confusing or too complicated to write it all out 😭 so if you wanna know more about anything or anyone pls know I am always so so happy to chat!!!

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

But was it really ganging up on her? They would just be telling her the truth and he had a feeling no matter how this went he wasn't going to hear the end of it from either side.

Lucifer sighed why the fuck couldn't this just be simple?

He should talk to Adam, really. They shouldn't end things like that.

-

Adam slammed his bedroom door as hard as he fucking could he was so beyond angry. What the fuck was wrong with Lucifer!?

He wanted to rage and destroy everything in sight, he wanted to throw the biggest fucking fit that Heaven, Earth, and Hell has ever seen.

There was a knock at his door and he lost his fucking mind.

Adam: GO AWAY!!!!

Lucifer came in anyway: Adam please, can we just talk about this?

Adam: There's nothing to fucking talk about Lucifer!!! It's very simple, if Vagina is at the dinner I fucking won't be. End of conversation! What's so hard to get from that!? You act like I have trapped you into a fucking situation that I have told time and again that you have no responsibility to this fucking kid if you don't want it!!

Lucifer: But Charlie-

Adam: IS A GROWN ASS WOMAN!! You're telling me, that she has to have someone hold her fucking hand while all you have to fucking tell her is there we're having a baby? You think that's "ganging up on her"? Bitch please! You care more about the fucking rock outside than you do me or this baby!

Lucifer frowned: Now that's not true-

Adam barked a laugh: IT'S VERY TRUE!! You keep bringing what happened and how this happened, I thought we fucking moved past that!! I have fucking apologized but it's not good enough! Nothing I have ever fucking done for you has ever been good enough!! Not in the garden and not now!

Adam punched the wall cracking the plaster, not caring that it hurt his hand a little.

Adam: You don't want me or the baby? Fine!

Lucifer: I never said that-!

Adam: YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAVE!!! Why don't you do me a fucking favor and take me to get an abortion if this is so fucking inconvenient for you your majesty!! That way I can go back to Heaven!! Or maybe I should just fucking leave anyway and someone up there will do it for me, so either fucking way this kid doesn't have a God damned chance! Oh, but better yet maybe I'll have the kid and we'll both fucking die!! Because that's what you really want huh? Both of us gone for good!? That'll solve your problem and you wouldn't have to worry about your precious daughter being a little upsetty spaghetti over this! Because I would rather we both fucking DIE than love a life with you where you don't give a shit about us and put literally EVERYONE ELSE before us, even the bitch that would gladly put a spear in my gut! You know what, actually invite her. Maybe she'll bring her spear and do a two for one special!! Cause that's what you want right!?

Lucifer: No!! Adam stop I don't want either of you dead!

Adam: And so what if I fucking lied!? LOOK AROUND LUCIFER!! The whole fucking world is what it is today because of your lie! But you don't see me throwing it back in your fucking face any chance I get! Why? I moved the fuck on! Like an adult! And you know what? I don't regret what I did and I'd probably do it again. But don't you DARE stand there and act like I trapped you into something I don't think would happen! And if Charlie can't handle you telling her you're having another baby that's her problem not mine. You act like I've wronged you but all I ever fucking did since the beginning of time was love you, you fucking little moron!!

Adam covered his mouth and cried, he couldn't look at him it was too hard. He sat down on the bed and his other hand went to his belly.

Adam: Ow....

He had a cramp, likely from stress.

Lucifer: Are you okay? What's wrong?

Adam sobbed: Like you care!

Lucifer: I do!

He felt so fucking stupid, if he stressed Adam out to the point he lost the baby Lucifer would never forgive himself. Slowly, he got closer until he was hugging Adam and running his back. The first man cried into his shoulder.

Lucifer shushed him gently: Hey, it'll be okay. Ma-....... Vaggie doesn't have to come tonight. You were right, you and our baby matter. And Charlie's a big girl, she can handle it. If you want I can even tell her one on one myself....... But I want you at dinner.

And truth be told, Maggie wasn't exactly his favorite person either.

Adam: ....... You don't mean that.

Lucifer: I do. I'll even call Charlie in a few minutes and tell her not to bring her. Just..... Please calm down? It was a shitty thing to do and I'm sorry....... Why don't you lay down and relax until dinner is ready?

Adam didn't have the energy to argue anymore, his rant stole it all. He let Lucifer tuck him into bed and he was out like a light.

Lucifer sighed and left, what a fucking day. He called Charlie and asked her not to bring Maggie, that it was something he only wanted her to know about.

Adam the Exorcist

@beef-brisket

Lute looked up wide eyed as her commander was giving his speech and there was a little sinner coming up behind him.

Lute: SIR BEHIND YOU!?

Adam stopped and turned, he gasped and grabbed Nifty by the neck and threw her at the hotel crew and Lucifer, glaring at the lot of them.

Adam: THIS ISN'T FUCKING OVER!!

Lucifer: I think it is bud, you should go home.

Adam glared more, he was leaving because he wanted to not because this little fucker told him to. He waved his hand giving them the signal that extermination day was officially over.

Adam: Exorcists fall back!

Lute: But ..... Sir -

Adam: NOW Lute!!

She nodded and glared at the King and princess of Hell along with her friends. They all flew back to heaven and Adam flipped Lucifer off before he was fully back in.

Adam groaned when the portal closed, they had never had it go that wrong that fast. This wasn't going to end well.

-

Adam: Retire!?

Sera sighed she knew Adam wouldn't take this well.

Sera: Yes Adam, it's time you step down as the commander of the exterminators.

Adam: Is this about what happened!? Because it won't happen again.

Sera: You're right, it won't.

Adam sighed: But Abel? My boy is too soft to do that job.

Sera: There's no one else to do it. You nearly died down there we....... We can't lose you.

On one hand he understands where she's coming from, but he was meant to do this! The only reason things went bad was because Lucifer showed up.

Lute just HAD to kill the princess's pet.

Adam: I don't want him to die.

Sera: He won't. We will be doing a more regimented training routine. You deserve a rest Adam.

Adam: ..... Yes Sera.

She smiled and held out her arms, Adam hugged her. She was only doing this because she loves him, he knows that. Doesn't make it suck any less.

Adam went back to his room to lay down, he didn't realize how tired he was until he did.

There had to be a way that he could still be an exterminator.

Some how.

[insomniac4000]

Disney Dreams- ChrisMD

Y/N and Chris Dixon had been friends for years—YouTube collaborators, office neighbours, and the kind of duo that fans always speculated about but never had enough evidence to confirm. Their chemistry had always been obvious, but there was always just enough plausible deniability to keep the rumours at bay.

Until now.

They had been dating for a few months—quietly, privately, and without the usual social media fanfare that accompanied most YouTuber relationships. It wasn’t that they were hiding it, exactly. They just weren’t announcing it. They were happy in their little bubble, and neither of them was in any rush to let the world in.

But the world was persistent. And observant.

It began with little things. Subtle changes. Y/N, who had spent years joking about being unlucky in love, stopped making those comments in her videos. Chris, who had previously thrown self-deprecating remarks about being forever single, did the same. Their respective audiences picked up on it almost immediately.

Then came the sightings.

A fan spotted them in a pub, leaning in close over their drinks, engaged in what seemed to be a deep conversation. But there was nothing definitive—no touching, no overt signs of romance. Just two friends, as they had always been. The sighting went semi-viral on Twitter, but without hard proof, it remained just speculation.

Then George Clarkeey unintentionally fanned the flames further on The Useless Hotline podcast. In the middle of a conversation about household accidents, he casually mentioned that he’d tripped over a pair of Y/N’s shoes in his and Chris’s flat.

The internet went into a frenzy.

Chris and Y/N had never officially confirmed they spent time at each other’s places, let alone that Y/N had left personal belongings at Chris’s. It was still possible that it was innocent—maybe she just visited a lot. Maybe she left her shoes there after a long editing session. But to their fans, this was another piece of the puzzle, another brick in the growing wall of evidence.

Yet, none of it was conclusive. None of it proved anything definitively.

Then came Disneyland.

Y/N had planned the Disneyland trip for months. It was meant to be a special treat for her two young nieces, she had promised them the trip after she had been away filming for both of their respective birthdays. The oldest Maddie was eight and her younger sister Rosie was six. Y/N’s older brother was the only family she had left so her nieces were incredibly dear to her, she saw them often and she was just as excited about the trip as they were. She hadn’t initially planned on Chris coming along, but when she mentioned it to him, he lit up with excitement.

“What if we take a trip soon? Just me and you,” Chris suggested leaning on the breakfast bar as he watched his girlfriend effortlessly whip up two omelettes for their breakfast.

“Good idea, I can’t do the last weekend of the month though, I’m taking Rosie and Maddie away,” Y/N explained as she dished up the eggy treats.

“Alone? You’re brave.”

“I owe them. I missed their birthdays so I promised them a trip to Disneyland Paris and I always keep my promises as an aunt.”

“You’re taking them to Disneyland Paris?” he had asked. Let me come,” he said immediately. “I’ll be the best uncle they’ve ever had.”

“Really? I never had you down as a Disney adult.”

“I’m not but it’s all about the kids right? I think it could be fun,” Chris suggested and Y/N blushed a little, the fact he was so willing to be a part of her family warmed her heart.

And he was. From the moment they arrived, Chris was fully in “fun uncle” mode—carrying one of the girls on his shoulders, lining up with them to meet princesses, and hyping them up before every ride. Y/N couldn’t stop smiling the entire day, seeing him effortlessly bond with her family.

"Alright, princesses," Chris announced as they walked through the entrance of Disneyland, "welcome to the most magical place on Earth."

Maddie, holding Chris’s hand, beamed up at him. "You mean besides Auntie Y/N’s house?"

Chris smirked. "Exactly. But only because she stocks better snacks."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully and adjusted the Minnie Mouse ears Rosie had insisted she wear. "So, what’s the first ride, girls?"

"Big Thunder Mountain!" Maddie cheered.

"But we promised Rosie we’d meet the princesses first," Y/N reminded them and the older girl nodded in understanding knowing she’d get to do her choice later on.

Chris grinned and knelt to Rosie’s level. "And which princess are you most excited to meet?"

"Rapunzel!" Rosie said with absolute certainty.

"Good choice," he nodded solemnly. "Long hair, loves adventure—sounds a bit like your Auntie Y/N." He added with a bit of a smirk

Y/N nudged him with her hip. "Except I don’t have a frying pan as a weapon."

Chris leaned in. "Yet."

The morning was filled with rides, princess meet-and-greets, and an endless supply of Mickey shaped snacks. At one point, while Y/N went to grab coffee, Chris found himself on a mission—helping Rosie trade pins with cast members.

"You’ve got an eye for the rare ones," Chris said as Rosie exchanged a pin with a kind cast member.

"That’s because I watch videos about it," she said matter-of-factly. "And because you’re my good luck charm!"

Y/N returned to find Chris proudly showing off the ‘best trade ever’ that Rosie had made—a rare Rapunzel pin. "Look at you, Chris. Already spoiling them rotten."

Chris feigned innocence. "I have no idea what you mean."

“Come on it’s time for lunch,” Y/N replied with a smile, grabbing a hold of her nieces hands.

As they sat at a restaurant, munching on Mickey shaped pizza, Maddie leaned on Chris’s arm. "Uncle Chris, when are you gonna marry Auntie Y/N?"

Chris nearly choked on his drink. Y/N’s eyes widened as she turned to the girls. "Maddie!"

"What?" Maddie shrugged. "You already act like it."

Rosie nodded, swinging her legs. "Yeah, and Uncle Chris is always at your house."

Chris recovered quickly, grinning at Y/N. "Well, she is pretty great."

Y/N’s face flushed as she focused on her garlic bread. "Eat your food, girls."

Maddie and Rosie exchanged knowing looks, giggling.

After lunch they met Mickie Mouse to let their food digest before they went on more rides. Chris was half traumatised by It’s A Small World.

“That bloody song is going to be in my head all day,” he grumbled.

“But look how happy they are!” Y/N pointed to her nieces smiling faces “Plus it’s no worse then Taylor Swift.”

“Hey! Don’t diss Taylor!” Maddie protested in Chris’s defence and Y/N just rolled her eyes knowing there was no chance she was going to win against the pair of them.

By the time the fireworks had rolled around in the evening everyone was well and truly exhausted but they were determined to last through the day. Chris was holding Rosie while Maddie was leaning into Y/N as the four watched the castle and sky light up while music from the films played in the background. The group were so caught up in the morning they had failed to notice the person with a camera to their left.

A blurry photo was uploaded to Twitter that evening, showing Chris and Y/N standing together in front of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle. Y/N’s youngest niece was on his hip, her tiny arms wrapped around his neck, while her older niece was holding onto Y/N’s hand, beaming at the sight in front of her. Chris, notably, was wearing a Disneyland hoodie that perfectly matched the one Y/N had on. The caption simply read:

“Oh. My. God.”

The internet exploded.

Comments flooded in immediately.

“There’s no way this isn’t confirmation.”

“Chris at Disneyland with Y/N’s nieces?? That’s not a ‘just friends’ thing.”

“This is actually adorable, I can’t even be mad.”

“Remember when George said Y/N’s shoes were at Chris’s flat? IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW.”

Some tried to argue that it still wasn’t definitive proof. Maybe Chris was just a really good friend. Maybe he just happened to be in Disneyland at the same time. Maybe—

But even the skeptics were struggling. It was too perfect, too telling. Y/N, the fiercely independent woman who had been burned in past relationships, wouldn’t just bring any guy on a special trip with her nieces. And Chris, who had never even given a hint about any love for Disney, wouldn’t just tag along unless it mattered.

Theories flew across social media. Edits of their best moments in videos resurfaced. Old clips were re-examined with fresh eyes. Fans started pointing out moments they had missed—small glances, inside jokes, the way Chris had been extra protective of Y/N in group videos.

Chris and Y/N saw the online chaos unfold in real time. They were back the hotel now, the girls had crashed as soon as their heads had hit the pillows but Y/N and Chris couldn’t ignore their phones.

“I mean,” Chris said, scrolling through Twitter, “we had a good run.”

Y/N groaned, flopping onto the couch. “I thought we’d be able to hold out longer.”

He grinned. “We technically still haven’t confirmed anything.”

“Oh, right. Because that picture is really ambiguous.”

Chris shrugged. “Could be coincidence.”

Y/N snorted. “Sure. Let’s go with that. You just happen to be away with me and my nieces, plus they are incredibly comfortable with you. That can only mean you know them and you’re part of the family.”

They debated addressing it. A joint statement? A casual Instagram post? An offhand joke in a podcast? Ultimately, they decided to do nothing—at least, for now. They had always been private people, and just because the world thought they had confirmation didn’t mean they owed anyone an official announcement.

Instead, they carried on as they had before.

But the next time Y/N uploaded a vlog, there was a fleeting moment—barely two seconds—where Chris walked into her frame, wearing one of her hoodies.

And the fans lost their minds.

[ihopesocomic]

So, the usual disclaimer before we address this (again): please do not attack or harass this individual. We are merely bringing this to the attention of anyone who may feel like supporting this artist. Link to the work anon is referencing Our original post concerning them with more evidence Even though we've said in the past that referencing is fine with credit, it's worth noting that this individual is block evading and they seem to think they can carry on as they are because 'well, I've given them credit' when no, this isn't how it works. You don't trace our work for months without giving credit and continue to do so once you're called out and we've expressed our discomfort at you doing this by blocking you.

It's all well and good stating that we've 'clarified we're OK with referencing' when you're confronted after you initially took advantage by not crediting us for months until you were called out, but it should be obvious by us blocking you months ago that our permission no longer applies to you. Knock it off. - RJ

---

I think what's further upsetting is, we haven't exactly been selfish about our process. We've given every source to the tools we use from medical sources to brush tools, cheap and free lineart to alter as people wish, and saying at every opportunity that people don't need permission from us to use broad concepts. We've never been shy about all our inspiration and favorite artists either.

But you'll notice anyone inspired by us are also inspired by multiple things and make it their own. Such is characteristic of the creative process. It's not characteristic of what this person does, yet they treat it like they're doing the same thing as everyone else. And I want to make it absolutely clear, that if you're worried you might be doing this, you're not. You would know. Because this is the only instance anyone has disrespected our boundaries in this way.

We blocked this person months ago. There was no sense in bringing it up, as most people see being blocked as "oh, this person wants nothing to do with me." and move on to other things. But this person goes out of their way to take stuff that isn't even comic-related (commissions and my own personal work), AND make sure no one knows about us. And contrary to popular belief, not that many people know who we are, especially on sites where we're not active. It's like this person assumes that since they're blocked and we don't have a presence on dA, they don't have to respect anything we do. I don't know what they feel, but to me personally it feels intentional at this point. It's gotten to a point where I actually have a preference for people who say they hate us and leave it at that. Because at least they don't skulk around to steal my artwork. Another thing that strikes us as strange is that we were convinced for the longest time that this person was an adult as they've referenced having an apartment and having adult shit to pay on several occasions but they are now turning around and claiming they're actually under the age of 15/16 in light of our original post concerning them, and that they would "still tell you this even if they weren't". Make of that what you will. It's just pretty eh to say you need money for bills and an "apartment situation" when you're also saying you're a minor who is still under the responsibility of your parents/guardians.

Also, being 15/16 is old enough to know better than to steal artwork. Just putting that out there.

I am rightfully frustrated that my good will and patience is being taken advantage of by this person. And I'm tired of the idea that I'm being mean or unfair by speaking out about it. "Don't steal my artwork" is a pretty simple boundary to respect. If it's too complex for some of you to work out, that's a you problem. - Cat

[fuckyeahmarxismleninism]

Washington Post: The trans Americans turning to guns for protection

Rodriguez explained why she thought trans people were taking up arms. “A lot of trans people kind of share the sentiment of death before detransition,” she said. “If our hormones are taken away, we’d rather just kill ourselves. So, we’re not going out without a fight.” --------------------------

Gift article link

Full text of paywalled article follows:

The trans Americans turning to guns for protection

“Trans people have every reason to be afraid,” said one trans woman who went out and bought a gun after President Trump was elected.

By Hallie Lieberman BELLINGHAM, Wash.

February 25, 2025

Until recently, May Alejandro Rodriguez was a big supporter of gun control.

A 21-year-old Mexican American trans woman who is a student at Western Washington University, she was interested in producing music and snapping photos of her friends on Fuji 400 film.

But Rodriguez, who voted for Kamala Harris, changed her view on guns when Donald Trump was reelected. She had heard the stories from her trans friends in red states: being forced to use bathrooms that didn’t match their gender identities; having gender markers switched on their drivers’ licenses. She saw kids losing access to hormones and feared adults would be next. She thought back to the trans high-schooler who was killed in her hometown and the trans teen who was attacked in Bellingham last year.

“Trans people have every reason to be afraid because we are being attacked,” Rodriguez said. “Every single day, another right is lost.”

She believed Republicans were playing on fear to stoke transphobia, so she thought trans people should play the game back. “They’re going to fear us no matter what,” she said. “So let the fear come from a place of reality.”

And so when she turned 21 in November, Rodriguez bought her first gun, a Rock Island Armory model M206 revolver.

After the 10-day waiting period, she picked up the weapon and filled out a required form asking whether she was Latino.

“They’re making a database of Mexicans owning guns,” she said jokingly to the White male gun clerk.

“I think it’s racist and a shame,” she recalled him saying. She was surprised by his sympathy.

Rodriguez posted videos of herself shooting on social media. Her Reddit post got 1,500 upvotes. “A lot of people messaged me and they’re like, ‘Oh my God, it’s so cool to see you have a gun. I think I want to get one,’” Rodriguez said.

When Rodriguez recognized she was trans at 14, she handled things herself. Believing her Mormon mother wouldn’t be accepting, Rodriguez bought hormones from a Mexican pharmacy both online and in person. She came out in her junior year of high school. Her mom still hasn’t acknowledged that she is trans.

Rodriguez explained why she thought trans people were taking up arms. “A lot of trans people kind of share the sentiment of death before detransition,” she said. “If our hormones are taken away, we’d rather just kill ourselves. So, we’re not going out without a fight.”

The Washington Post spoke to a dozen trans people for this article. Many of them spoke on the condition of anonymity — or insisted that only their first name be used — for safety reasons. All said they were arming and educating themselves about guns because they were scared of what Trump’s presidency will bring. “Kamala is for they/them. President Trump is for you,” one election ad famously intoned.

Hate crimes against trans and gender nonconforming people had already increased 16 percent in 2023, according to a Human Rights Campaign report based on FBI data. At least 32 trans people were killed in the United States in 2024. One in four trans people reported being physically attacked because of their gender identity, according to a 2022 survey by The Washington Post and KFF. An analysis of Bureau of Justice data from 2017 to 2018 in the American Journal of Public Health found that trans Americans are four times as likely to be the victims of violence than cisgender people. Three-quarters of trans victims of fatal gun violence are Black and Latina trans women, noted a 2024 report by Everytown, a gun-control organization.

Hundreds of trans men and women rally outside the Supreme Court on Dec. 4. (Marvin Joseph/The Washington Post) In the first few days after Trump took office, he rescinded the order allowing transgender people to serve openly in the military, signed an executive order declaring that gender is binary and declared that trans female prisoners housed in federal women’s prisons must be moved to male prisons. He also moved to end federal support for gender transition care for people under age 19, as well as to ban transgender athletes from competing on girls’ and women’s sports teams.

“People respond to situations of threat or uncertainty by seeking security. And one of the things that people associate with security in the United States is firearms,” said David Yamane, a sociology professor at Wake Forest University who studies American gun culture.

“Anecdotal accounts suggest [an increase in trans gun buyers] is absolutely happening,” Yamane added.

At least 2,500 people have joined the subreddit r/transguns since the election, according to the subreddit’s moderator. National LGBTQ gun groups Operation Blazing Sword and Pink Pistols told The Post that they have seen an uptick in interest in membership, which includes classes. Clara Smith-Elliott, the founder of Arm Trans Women (ATW), an organization that teaches gun-safety courses in Connecticut and Virginia, said her courses have started selling out.

Smith-Elliott thinks an increase in anti-trans laws may be driving interest in her courses. “People who already don’t like trans people … are seeing [anti-trans laws] as tantamount permission to act out against our community,” she said.

“People literally come to me in tears because they’re so scared of what’s going on. They don’t want to have to learn how to use a firearm, but they recognize the need.” Some of those signing up, Smith-Elliott said, are mothers of trans children.

“With personal protection being the top motivating factor, an increasing number of Americans are choosing to exercise their right to self-defense, as evidenced by the recent explosion of new gun owners from all demographics,” the NRA said in response to whether it had seen a rise in trans gun ownership.

Trans gun owners are part of a larger American tradition of minorities purchasing guns for safety, Yamane said, citing the Black Panthers in the 1960s and women seeking self-defense options in the 1970s and 1980s.

“What’s happening today among trans people is in the tradition of people demanding their rights and saying that they’re willing to defend those rights with force if necessary,” Yamane said.

Some gun purchases may be driven by the fear that being transgender may be classified as a mental illness, which could prevent gun ownership in states like Colorado that have “red flag laws.” (New guidance from the Department of Health and Human Services asserts a person’s sex is “unchangeable.”)

A queer Colorado firearm instructor named Drew said he visited a gun range a few years ago and a poster about red-flag laws was pinned on the wall next to one about rights for trans people. “The general implication was, if you were queer, you were mentally ill enough to not own firearms,” said Drew, who spoke on the condition that only his first name be used.

Before Rodriguez bought a gun, she asked her friends for a reality check. Before the election, they would have told her not to buy one, she said: “This time around, no one told me I was crazy.”

Rodriguez is sitting on the gray sectional in her third-floor apartment, pink-lensed prescription glasses perched on her nose, her lips painted a Taylor Swift-style red.

She points her revolver at an “Eyes Wide Shut” poster propped up against the wall.

“So, if you want to shoot Tom Cruise over there, you really want to line it up,” she said to the group of women gathered around her.

Watching the demonstration were Max, 25, and Luci, 19, trans friends Rodriguez knows from college, as well as June, 23, a cisgender barista in a leather jacket. (The trio spoke on the condition that only their first names be used out of concern for their safety.)

June, who has been living on her own since she was excommunicated from Jehovah’s Witnesses as a teenager for being a lesbian, said she was “pretty fearful of guns growing up.” But now, she said she has “realized I’d feel a lot less scared if I could shoot and if I was able to not only protect myself, but my friends and family.”

Rodriguez went over gun-safety rules that she’d scrawled on a small whiteboard above a sketch of Kirby, the video game character, toting a gun.

“Treat all guns as if they’re always loaded,” she said. “Never point at anything you’re not willing to destroy. Finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.” Only Luci, clad in safety-pinned pants with a “unionize sex work” patch, had ever held a gun before — shooting a .22 with her father.

Rodriguez picked up her revolver — which she calls her “little cowgirl gun” — and flattened her index finger next to the trigger to demonstrate.

She then passed it over to Max. “Always just try to keep it pointed in that direction, where no one is,” Rodriguez told her. “Pull the trigger. It takes a fair bit of force.”

Max pulled it, a bit gingerly. “I’m trying to get over the idea that it’s not loaded,” Max said.

A bespectacled environmental studies major, Max said she fears for her safety due to “the exponential rise in anti-trans legislation proposed and passed.”

She had the opportunity to shoot a gun as a kid, she said, and had declined: “I was pretty afraid of guns, and I didn’t want to be comfortable with guns.”

Max has since changed her mind.

Rodriguez practices with a rifle at a shooting range in Burlington, Washington, on Jan. 12. (Nick Cote/For The Washington Post) All the training was in preparation for a trip to Skagit Shooting Range, about 25 miles to the south.

There, Rodriguez paid $69.16 for range time for the four of them; four paper targets shaped like torsos; and the rental of a Sig Sauer P365-XL pistol from the White male clerk.

He briefed them on safety before they headed to the indoor range’s stalls, breaking up into pairs. Despite earplugs, the sound of bullets whizzing through the corridor made conversation nearly impossible.

The shooter in the adjacent stall wore a sweatshirt emblazoned with “Jesus is My Savior/Trump For President” in large letters. If he noticed the shooters next to him, he didn’t let on.

Rodriguez copped a shooter’s pose to demonstrate, her gleaming Doc Martens wide apart, her left foot pitched ahead. She grasped the gun, her arms straight.

June copied the stance and took the gun from her friend. She was a bit shaky as she placed her arms in front of her, aimed and fired.

There was a loud pop as the bullet squeezed out of the pistol and sliced through the cardboard dangling above the target. June felt the sound’s vibration in her teeth. The shell casing clattered to the ground, joining hundreds of others in the range. She turned to face Rodriguez and smiled widely.

“I don’t think I hit the target,” she said.

Now it’s Max’s turn to shoot. Afterward, she’s a bundle of nerves as she sits at a table in the gun store outside the range.

“I kind of honestly, like, forgot to breathe,” Max said. “My chest feels really tight. … It was definitely more powerful than I expected.”

June said her first time shooting a gun was “a little nerve-racking, to be honest.

“But I think learning how to do it makes me feel a little bit more comfortable about holding one. I feel more inclined to get one.”

The group went back to practice some more. After they fired their rounds, they pushed a button that sent the target flapping toward them for inspection. Luci proudly pointed to her perfectly placed body shot.

Though these women felt rejected by their political leadership, they were participating heartily in an American tradition: defending themselves with firearms.

“We have the same Second Amendment right that any Republican has,” Rodriguez said. “We just don’t have the numbers to do, like, a march on Washington. We’re just super easy to pick on. The only equalizer we have, really, is guns.”