#and i say this as someone who never cared one way or another for Blake before any of this

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

It’s incredibly brave of Blake to take a stand and make all this public. Or rather, that she bided her time, let the process do its thing, and seemingly compiled such a strong case against Justin Baldoni and basically let him and his team hang themselves with their own hubris. And like many others have said, the fact that she was arguably the most powerful person in that production and he and his team thought they could treat her the way they did and subsequently handily “bury her” speaks volumes on the rampant misogyny in the industry, and about how if it was this bad *for her*, imagine how bad is must be for people who don’t have the protection of her level of fame and wealth and privilege.

It’s so weird because obviously I like I think many of us knew things were bad during the movie’s press tour; with the whole cast unfollowing him, everyone distancing themselves from him, the comments, etc., I figured something happened along “creative differences” and that he was evidently not well-liked, but I never imagined it was this insidious or conspiratorial. How could one B-list one-time CW actor cause that much damage on a set? Well, it turns out, extremely easily. Because systems are in place to protect these men, no matter how privileged on paper the women around them are. The depths to which this team sought to ruin her, as an assault on all fronts, is truly Machiavellian.

Blake was “lucky” because she had people who believed her and had the resources and access to protect herself and advocate for change on her set, but she should never have had to protect herself like this in the first place. She went through traumatic incidents at the hands of these men, ones that had tangible consequences on both her mental and physical health and that of her child. And again: if this is how awful the experience was for her at the top of the call sheet, how many other people on this set and others suffer in silence too? How much do these ill-intended people in positions of power get away with that never get brought to light?

I find myself so rattled by this, even though on paper, I shouldn’t be. But it’s just like… We hear about the Harvey Weinsteins and Johnny Depps of the world, the industry titans who prey on people with less power all over the place. Yet for every Harvey Weinstein there’s a Justin Baldoni, just Some Dude who thinks by virtue of their privilege can act with impunity. (And yes, I know the man was a “successful” actor, but he wasn’t Ryan Reynolds-level successful. And I’m not saying success = permission to act this way, I’m saying the abusers are painted as these nearly godlike levels of fame and power, and the reality is that literally anyone can be an abuser and turn a situation into an unsafe power dynamic.)

And not to bring Taylor into it and make everything about her, but I also can’t help but think about the 2016 of it all, let alone situations she’d been in long before that. And how so many things happened to her: the revenge porn music video, the phone call, the smear campaign deliberately orchestrated by the Kardashians, Kanye’s link to Scooter, the internet harassment, etc. The difference was that everything was an onslaught, and Taylor didn’t have the public support or sadly, the evidence, to back up her experience. How different could things have gone if she’d been able to speak up? If she’d been able to counteract the obvious lies? Been able to call out the music video for what it was? She couldn’t for a million reasons, and we now have a glimpse into how traumatic that forced silence was for her. One of the differences between Taylor’s experience then and Blake’s now is that in some ways, folks are smarter about how social media is manipulated (but in others, they’re also much, much more gullible). Taylor had the entire media it seemed out to get her; Blake seemed to be following suit, until her own actions proved the lies incontrovertible so that she couldn’t be silenced.

I don’t really know where I’m going with this, except: it doesn’t matter if you’re one of the most famous people in the world, like Taylor was then and exponentially more so now. It doesn’t matter if you’re an industry veteran like Blake, with a husband who’s one of the most recognizable and powerful figures in the industry himself. Predators will prey on people they want to conquer and put in their place, and they will think they can do so without consequence. The cruelty, as always, is the point.

[erwinsvow]

𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

summary: you were a pogue, and now you're a kook. just like how once you were no one's, and now you're rafe cameron's.

author's note: here it is!!! imagine like s1 rafe with the s2 hair, and basically just having a former-pogue girlfriend through out the whole season. i just think rafe would actually be such a good boyf, he just needs someone to settle him down when he gets a lil crazy. follows the sequence of s1 until about 3/4ths down, where i just started making stuff up. you might read this & think no one would act like this.. and that's fine, i know they wouldn't, but this is a self indulgent story for rafe <3 part 2 of the other seasons maybe? enjoy!!

now spinning: black beauty by lana del rey (soooooo rafe coded! he just needs a hug and some pussy!)

word count: 13.5k

warnings/tags: wheeze is a toddler for no reason. reader isn't the biggest fan of the pogues at this point in time. smut: oral (f receiving), fingering, degregation, use of daddy, rafe calls reader kid because <3, lemme know if i forgot something!

“So that’s it? Really? Your mom is marrying a Kook and you’re moving across the island… just like that?” John B speaks to you as if you had any choice in the matter. You look at him sadly, but you’ve cried so much the last few days, it’s hard to find any more tears.  

You want to tell him, want to explain everything. The way your mom has been so lonely for years, ever since your dad passed away. The way she would pull double-shifts every week just to make sure you had the nice, trendy shoes and hot dinner every night. The way you grew up in the cut but it never felt any different than growing up in figure eight, because she took care of you.

And now it was your turn, to take care of her. Blake Richards was rich, and he wanted to take care of your mom, which meant for the first time in a long time, she would be the one being taken care of. And you owed that to her, you owed that much.

“I-I don’t really have a choice, John B. I mean, this is my mom. And she’s getting her chance to be happy. I can’t ruin it for her.”

“Yeah, I get all that but, like, does this mean you’re gonna go full-Kook on us? Because I think that would just be disturbing,” JJ says, and you crack a smile, even as you feel a tear spill down your cheek. 

“I don’t think I could ever go full-Kook.” It comes out quietly, a notch above a whisper.

“Hey, hey,” you hear John’s voice again, as he stands up to get closer to you. You feel embarrassed, the way your cheeks flush and heat up when he’s only a few inches away from you. He wipes the tear away with his thumb. “No crying, okay? Nothing has to change.”

The way he says it, you almost believe him.

“Right,” you say, still quiet. There’s a sob stuck behind your throat, and you don’t want the boys to know how upset you really are. You’ve stitched up these boys more times than you can count, set shoulders and bones and nursed bruises for them. “Nothing has to change,” you repeat, trying to convince yourself. Everything was about to change, starting with your relationship with them.

And that’s the one thing you wish could stay the same. Deep down, no matter how many times you were teased and laughed with, there was a part of you, buried away, that thought you would end up with one of these boys one day. Sweet John, funny JJ, smart Pope. Well, maybe not Pope. You’ve seen the way he stares at Kie, even when no one else notices.

But John and JJ, the possibility of being with one of them always lingered in the air. Even when they’re flirting with tourists or cracking so-called boy jokes that you just wouldn’t understand, you always thought they were your endgame.

If only you knew. 

Pope and Kiara drive up, just as you’re wiping away another tear. You’re dreading repeating everything to them, shedding more tears. 

౨ৎ

“Who is that?” Topper asks, eyeing some girl entering the club. Rafe was getting sick of Topper crying over every pretty girl he saw on the street when he was supposedly dating his sister. He hardly cared about Sarah, daddy’s favorite, but that was his family, and he wouldn’t tolerate disrespect to his family. 

“She must be fresh meat,” Kelce says, “I’ve never seen her before.”

“Tourist?” Topper questions. Rafe downs the rest of his drink. 

“Nah, man, see that guy ahead of her? That’s Blake Richards. My dad works with him, he’s a big finance guy. He’s a widower, but I guess not anymore.” 

“Step-daughter? Jesus,” Topper says. “It’s like a cheesy porno. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he married her mom to tap that, I mean-”

“Enough,” Rafe snaps. “Shouldn’t you be in a fight with my sister?” Topper blanches. 

“I mean, look at her Rafe. That is something special,” Kelce says, and then finally, Rafe lifts his head to look at you.

You look… confused. Your head is turning, taking in everything about the club, like you’d never been there before. A waiter comes up to your family with tall glasses of water, little pieces of cucumber and lemon floating around in them with ice cubes. Richards—your step-father—takes a glass and hands it to a woman who can only be your mother, with the same hair and complexion. Before he can take a glass to hand to you, you take it from the tray yourself, smiling and saying thank you. The waiter, some teenage Pogue, blushes at your affection.

When you start walking, continuing the tour, the waiter turns to look at you walk away, gawking like men do when they see something pretty. Rafe feels an overwhelming urge to punch the kid, and cover you up with his jacket. 

You’re not in anything too immodest, compared to what he’s seeing girls at the club walking around in, but it feels like it’s too much for the leering eyes that follow you. Your jean skirt comes down a little less than half-way to your thighs. Your shirt is white, with puffy sleeves and little buttons that tighten around the chest.

He sees a glimpse of cleavage, which makes his chest tighten uncomfortably, not in the way he’s used to when he sees a pretty girl. He wants to take his shirt off his back and slide it onto you, buttoning it up all the way and making sure no one else looks at you the way he’s looking at you right now.

“Rafe?” his friend calls, and he’s not sure which one. In your glancing, you turn towards Rafe and you lock eyes for a second. You must have noticed him staring. You probably think he’s crazy, but he doesn’t seem to care much at the moment. Your mother must have beckoned you, because you turn away in a second, walking towards the older couple, trailing behind them again.

“Be right back,” he says, leaving a confused Topper and Kelce behind him at the table. He cuts through the tables near the bar, entering the walkway where your family is already, but coming out of the other end. He gets there just in time to run into Richards, who’s leading the little group.

“Hi, Mr. Richards, right?” he says, holding his hand out. “Rafe Cameron.”

“Oh, Rafe, hi,” the older man replies, shaking his hand. Rafe grips hard, making sure Richards doesn’t think he has a wimpy handshake. Otherwise he’s never gonna agree to what Rafe has in mind. “I haven’t seen you in years, I mean you were half your height last time I was over at Tannyhill.”

“Crazy, right? Well I just wanted to say hi since I ran into you. How’s, uh Benny and Brax?” 

“I can’t believe you remember them, they haven’t been to Kildare in years. They’re good, yeah, Benny’s in California now, and Brax is out at law school, at Oxford.”

“Oh yeah, international law, right?”

“Yeah,” Richards says, smiling wide. “You’ve got quite a memory, son, I’ll have to tell Rafe when I see him.”

“Oh yeah, he’s around here somewhere.” Then, he makes his move. He turns his gaze to your mom first. He thinks about it briefly, but if he addresses you before her, your mom will be on guard. He knows how their minds work. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, I’m Rafe,” and he shakes your mom’s hand, but turns back to Richards for the introduction—something else in his little cheat-sheet of rules. Let dad do the talking, so he feels like he’s in control. 

“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”

“Nice to meet you, Rafe,” your mom smiles at him sweetly, and he smiles back. 

“-and my step-daughter.” You smile, and hold your hand out. He shakes your hand, gently, and looks at your face, because he can tell the smile is forced. He wonders why. 

“Nice to meet you.” he says, and you smile that forced way again.

“You too, Rafe.” You let go of his hand, and it’s good, because if he held on any longer, the adults would get suspicious.

“First time here?” he questions, still looking at you.

“Yes,” your mother answers, laughing, if not a little uncomfortably. “Is it that obvious?”

“Nah, it’s a lot to take in, I remember that much.” Richards smiles at him, almost beaming. He knows Rafe has been coming here since he could walk. That means the old man appreciates him trying to comfort his new family. Another step closer.

“It is,” Anna says, looking at her daughter. She has those worried eyes, the one Ward’s new wife won’t stop looking at him with. 

“Well, it’s the perfect place to be all summer. I mean, pretty much everyone our age is at the pool or the courts.” At his mention of the both of you, you look up from staring at your shoes quickly to looking right at him. He smiles. You don’t smile back. 

“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.

“I mean yeah, Mister R, I remember Benny on the golf course, like, everyday. And Brax, I mean he practically taught half of us how to swim.” Richards nods and laughs, continuing small talk about his sons. Rafe sneaks another glance at you, and you look back knowingly, like you can smell his intentions from a mile away. 

“Honey?” your mom asks quietly. “Do you wanna go with Rafe?”

“What?” you reply quickly, surprised. You weren’t listening, and he tries hard not to laugh.

“Well, I can take you ‘round, introduce you to everyone. I’ll finish the tour if you and Mrs. Richards are heading up to the course?” He nods at the golf clothes your parents have on, that you are lacking. 

“I think that sounds great, right, honey?” Anna presses, and after you lock eyes with her, you nod in agreement.

“Yeah, sure,” you say quietly. Rafe smiles again.

“Great, great, yeah. Well, it was great to see you Mister R. Missus R.”

“Thank you, Rafe. Kiddo, you can ask for the car to go home when you’re ready, okay? Your mother and I are going to get dinner here.” Anna looks up confused, probably wondering how they’ll get back.

“I’ll call someone to bring the car back, honey,” he explains, and your mom smiles.

“I can also take her back,” Rafe interjects. “Tannyhill is the same direction, and I’m headed back anyways. If you wanna leave the car here.”

“Really, Rafe, that would be great, thank you.” You look even angrier than before, but the plastic smile spread over your face doesn’t faze them.

“Right, thanks, Blake. Bye mom,” you say, and then lean over to kiss her on the cheek.

You watch them walk away, chewing your cheek and turning back to Rafe with anger splashed all over your pretty features. 

“I can’t believe that worked on them,” you tell him quietly, smiling when your mom turns back to look at you before they turn the corner. Your parents were too gullible sometimes.

“Yeah, me either, kid.”

“Don’t call me that,” you reply right away. “And despite what you think, I’m not touring this place with you. I’m probably never coming back here after today.” You start walking away, in the opposite direction of your parents, when he chases behind you.

“Y’know, I don’t get you. Every girl your age lounges around here all day, and everyone else wishes they could.”

“Well, you know what they say,” you start, smiling sweetly, though he sees through it again. “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”

“Really?” he shrugs. “Never heard that before.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.” 

“Come on, you’re not even giving me a chance. You don’t even know me.” You laugh at that.

“Yes, I do, Rafe, you just don’t recognize me.” You continue your brisk pace, looking for the exit and getting closer. He reaches out to grab your forearm, holding you back for a second. He guides you into the corner, between the hallway where there’s no one else around.

“Yeah, that so?” Rafe is almost caging you in. He’s so close you can smell his cologne and the scotch on his lips.

“I’m from Kildare, Rafe.” You try to break free of his grip, but it proves even harder than you thought. He holds you in place without even breaking a sweat.

“No, no, no, because I know every pretty girl in Kildare. And you’ve definitely never been here before, so-”

“Really? Even the ones from the cut?” You thought that would be enough to get him to drop your arm, but he doesn’t budge.

“Huh. So that’s why you’ve never been here. Old Man Richards married a Pogue and made her daughter into a Kook? Did I get that right?”

“I’m not a Kook,” you say, squirming, because you still don’t want to be trapped by him. His cologne smells good, your mind wanders and thinks, like ocean air and sandalwood. You snap out of it at once.

“Not yet, you’re not.” 

“I’m not going to be, either. A little money isn’t going to change anything for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, kid. That’s what everyone says, ‘til it does.”

“Rafe, let go of me, I said let go-” And he does let go, quickly, and your arm falls. Faint red marks appeared when he was holding on, what can only be a bruise tomorrow. He’s marked you, and you’re not half as angry as you would have thought. 

“Come on, kid, we’re finishing this tour. I promised,” he says, and the last bit is so mocking, you can’t believe mom and Blake fell for his act. 

He takes you around the entire club, shows you the restaurants, the spa, the pool. At least a handful of girls stare at the two of you walking side by side, but Rafe doesn’t look back at anyone. You don’t know how to feel about that.

The oldest Cameron isn’t a mystery to anyone in Kildare, but you don’t know anything about him besides what the boys have told you. JJ hates him, naturally, John doesn’t let you look at him in passing, and even Pope can find a few bad things to say. But right now, he’s not doing any of those things you would have expected once he found out you and your mom are from the other side of the island. The crude jokes and gold-digger comments are nowhere to be heard.

But you can’t write him off completely yet. After all, this is Rafe Cameron.

He finishes the tour on the golf course, so you can wave to your parents on the course. You’re sipping on a lemonade through a little pink straw, and he finds it hard to look away when your cheeks hollow to draw up the liquid. Your mom and Blake wave back, and you smile—genuinely—for maybe the third time that morning. 

“They’re good together,” Rafe comments, on the walk back to the front door, where his truck is waiting. 

“Do you really think that?” you ask quietly. You’re tired, he can tell, drained from trying so hard to make sure he knows you hate him. 

“Yeah, kid, I do. He’s been a widower basically my whole life. And he married your mom, so he must really love her.”

You can’t tell if he’s just saying it to get on your good side. You hope he’s not. Through all of this, all the crying and the suffering and how much you miss your old life and your friends, if your mom doesn’t at least end up happy, it’ll all have been for nothing. You feel more tears brewing.

“Thanks, Rafe,” you end up saying quietly, as you put on the seat belt in the passenger seat of his truck. His music plays softly in the background of the drive - rap, something you've heard before but can't place - back to Blake’s house. With your window down, you stare out of it and try to pay attention to the breeze in your hair rather than the entirely overwhelming scent of Rafe, which is all-consuming in his car.

Rafe turns to look at you every few minutes. You look perfectly in place in his car, leaning against the panel with your eyes closed. That means you trust him, even though every word you say makes him think otherwise.

Your eyes flutter open when he puts the car in park, outside the door to your house. 

“Home sweet home, kid,” you hear his voice in your ear, but he sounds closer than he should be. When you turn to look, he’s leaning over you and so close to you, you feel the heat radiating from his body. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask quickly, heartbeat picking up and rocketing off. 

“M’just getting the door for you, kid.” His arm flexes, only an inch or two away from your chest, pulling the handle and swinging open the door. He leans back into his seat, smirking. “Why, what'd ya think I was gonna do?”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in and swallow uncomfortably. Your throat feels dry and your palms are suddenly clammy.

“Nothing.” 

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

You climb out of his car, shoes hitting the ground a little too hard. He strains his neck, trying to make sure you’re okay. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, not meeting his eyes, closing the door behind you. 

“Anytime, kid. I’ll be seeing you around.”

You thought he would take over the second the passenger-side door was shut, but he doesn’t. He stays and watches you fix your skirt that had ridden-up on the drive, and walk into the front door, glancing behind you, just for a second, before going inside. And then you hear the roar of the engine, only after the door was closed and you were safely inside.

౨ৎ

You didn’t take it literally, that you would be seeing him again. Rafe seems like the type to play with his toys and get bored before long, but true to his word, you see him days later. And to his luck, you were feeling even worse than the first time you met him.

The morning started like any other—showering in a bathroom that’s just yours, and no one else’s, and attached to your bedroom. You can hardly remember the years when your dad was alive, but after he passed, you and your mom moved into a tiny two-bed, one-bath with your mom’s best friend. You were there for the next five years, until she got married and moved out, and it was just the two of you. But even in all the years since, you’ve never had your own bathroom until now. 

You shower as long as you want, whenever you want. Your room is in a completely different hallway than the master, where Blake and your mom sleep. You blast music at night, singing along off-tune from the bathroom, and would stay on the phone for hours with your friends. If anyone answered your calls anymore. 

It’s been three weeks since you broke the news to everyone that you were moving. Two weeks since you actually moved. One week since Rafe walked you around the country club and drove you back home, like you belonged to him. In that time, you’ve driven down to the Chateau twice, walked by Kie’s house, which is now just a few blocks away, and texted multiple times—all with no responses. At first you panic, thinking something’s happened, but then you realize this was what always happened. When you’re off on an adventure, you don’t think about who’s waiting for you back at home.

That’s what’s running through your mind when you run into Rafe again that day.

You had showered without interruption, taking your time doing your hair up just because you felt like it. There was no work to be done, no chores assigned to you anymore. Breakfast was always prepared when you went downstairs, so you took your time getting ready now. 

You missed a lot of things about your old life, but the limited time and constant rushing and anxiety were not among them. 

Your clothes were picked out with the anticipation of seeing your best friends again, your favorite overalls from the thrift store—which had been bought when you were still two sizes too small for them, and had been baggy on you until last year, but they were such a steal your mother refused to let you put them back—and a yellow shirt to match your ratty, yellow converse. They had been washed so many times they were more brown than yellow, but it didn’t matter much. 

This outfit was the old you, and it brought up feelings inside you that nothing in figure eight could change. You wore it because you wouldn’t look any different to your friends in this outfit, and for maybe a few hours, you wouldn’t be the girl in the fancy house with the country club membership anymore.

“You look nice, sweetie,” your mom says, when you head downstairs. She’s drinking her coffee at the table, your step-dad nowhere to be found. It’s eleven in the morning and she’s just woken up too, in her robe and slippers, and you smile, watching her more relaxed than you’ve seen in years.

You swing by her side of the table to give her a kiss, and steal a piece of toast from her plate. You’re relieved she doesn’t mention your clothes, not when she keeps offering to take you shopping with Blake’s money, which you keep refusing, but is getting more tempting every time you step in a puddle in these shoes.

“Thanks mom, I’m going to see the boys and Kie, I’ll be back later, don’t wait up!” and with that you’re gone, before you can discern the disapproving look in her eyes. 

Your junky old car, older than you by several years and still somehow the nicest thing you own—used to own, a voice chirps in the back of your head—is hidden around several fancy cars in the driveway. It’s intentional, you’re sure, and likely your mother’s doing. Nothing embarrassed her more than you handing out constant reminders of your old life to everyone around you.

And then you’re on the way to the Chateau, windows down and no music, since there was no way to connect your phone and the radio was busted by Pope a year ago, who claims he was trying to fix it. 

But it’s what happens when you get there that embarasses you the most—no one’s there, and no one will answer your call. You wait around for a half hour, trying to see if they come back, but they don’t. 

And that’s when it hits you. They were off on their adventures, and you weren’t just down the street anymore, which meant you weren’t invited. You get back in your car and slam the door, humiliated, tears falling down your face and probably ruining the makeup you had done, stupidly, this morning, because you wanted to look nice for them, like your old self for them. You don’t realize until later, after you were done crying, and seen Rafe again, that your friends didn’t want to bother you while you were adjusting to your new life. 

You feel betrayed, and the words that John had told you rattle through your head, because he was wrong. Everything had changed, and nothing would be the same. 

You take off, heading back home. There’s a big storm brewing and your Accord gets dramatic in the rain. It’s not until you cross the border back into figure eight that you realize two things. One, that you had just thought of your new house as home for the first time. And two, that you had never felt more alone. 

There’s not much to do about either of these feelings, besides stopping for the biggest bowl of ice cream you can reasonably carry back home, and eating it in your room, crying and watching You’ve Got Mail for the hundredth time.

So that’s what you do, pulling into the ice cream shop closest to home. Your car also doesn’t have the greatest functioning air conditioner, and you don’t need any more questionable stains in your seats, considering how many times JJ had borrowed it and returned it, promising you it’s nothing and that that spot in the back seat was always there!

In line, tapping your foot, calling your mom’s cell. Your eyes are puffy and your nose is red from crying. She’s not answering, but the unspoken rule of your little family is to always, always call when you’re getting ice cream in case the other wants something. You’ve only been gone something like two hours, and you can’t imagine what she’s doing that she can’t answer your phone. You dial Blake’s number, hoping he answers instead, and while it’s ringing you realize it’s your turn to order. You haven’t even looked at the menu yet. 

You turn to the people behind you, telling them they can go in front, but when you look up from your phone, you almost drop it. 

Of course it’s Rafe Cameron behind you. Of course. Who else would it be? Who else would keep catching you at your lowest moments? He’s with a little girl, who can’t be older than four or five, with dark hair and glasses, holding his hand patiently while staring up at you, while you stare at him and he stares back.

“Rafe, she said we can go in front,” she says, tugging on the hand she’s holding. 

“Yeah, Wheeze, I heard. Let’s go order and then thank this nice girl for letting us go ahead, right?” The little girl nods, and follows him up to order. Rafe looks back at you but then your step-dad answers, so you turn away, cheeks heating up. You don’t want him to see.

“Hi, what’s going on?” you hear his voice through the phone, sort of staticky and jumbled. 

“Hi, Blake, I just wanted to ask if you and mom wanted ice cream? I’m at the place… yeah, the one near the house.”

“Oh, yes, let me ask her, one second-” You hear him put the phone down, or cover the mic, and then, “Honey! Kiddo’s asking if you want ice cream.” 

You feel yourself soften a little bit at the nickname. And then you hear your mom and Blake talking back and forth, for what feels like ages. The girl behind the counter looks at you with a glare and you try to look back at her with an apologetic smile, but you’re a little fed-up from the emotional turmoil you’ve just endured. 

“Hi, sweetie, I’m okay, I had some at the club with lunch and twice in a day is just not a good idea-”

“Just get it, who cares? We can have it later tonight too-”

“What if the power goes out? It’ll melt, and then it’s just a waste of money-” Crap. You hadn’t thought of that.

“We have generators for that.” Blake picks up the phone again. “Hey, kiddo, get your mom her usual and make sure you use the card I gave you, okay?”

You hang up the phone, smiling, and then order. It feels weird, being oddly comforted by someone other than your mom or your friends for once. In your distraction, you don’t see Rafe and the little girl hovering near the freezer window that showcases all the ice cream they offer. When you’re reaching for the shiny black Amex, you hear him again. 

“I got it, kid,” Rafe says, pressing his matching card against the reader and pushing your wrist down and away. He does it so easily, without trying, just like he did in the country club. You look up at him stupidly, brain not registering what he just did and why he did it, and you don’t move for a moment. You don’t move until he leans down a little, close enough to smell that enticing cologne again but not nearly close enough. 

“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’. And you should probably get out of the way.” You blink back up at him, and he’s smirking again. You feel kind of stupid, the way he’s talking to you, but you also don’t mind as much as you thought you would. The girl behind the counter yells out Next! and that’s when Rafe takes you by the arm, just above where he had bruised you, and moves you away himself.

“You okay, kid?” he asks, and you feel yourself melt like ice cream left in your car for too long. You don’t know if he really means it, or if he really cares, but you do know Rafe Cameron needs to stop talking to you like he likes you, or you’re going to be in trouble.

“Fine, yeah. Thanks, uh, thanks for the ice cream.” You’re still blinking slowly, stupidly, stuck in a daze. You should really get it together around him. It’s a little pathetic if a strong grip and a couple of nice actions gets you acting like this. That’s a problem for another day right now.

“Is she okay, Rafe?” the little girl asks quietly from beside him. 

“No idea, Wheezie. Why don’t you sit and eat your ice cream?” he replies, and she sits down a few tables away, beginning to shovel chocolate ice cream with a tiny wooden spoon.

“Hey,” he says, and you begin to snap out of it. It’s raining outside now. You hear the pitter-patter of the drops on the roof. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yes. I am. I just had a bad morning. Sorry.” But you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.

“Well, are you gonna talk about it and shit? ‘Cause I don’t know you that well yet but you’re kinda freaking me out right now.”

“I-I…I just-”

“You, you, you just?” he mocks, and then when tears fill your pretty eyes and he sees one slip down your face, his own eyes panic briefly. “Hey, hey, I was just joking, kid-” He pulls out a colorful chair for you, and sits you down next to Wheezie, who is still eating ice cream at an alarming rate. Your ice cream is ready at the counter, and he brings it down next to you, holding his own strawberry cone in his hand. 

“Hold this for me Wheeze,” he says, not really asking, and the little girl shakes her head right away.

“How’m I gonna eat mine then?” 

“Wheezie,” Rafe says, in a voice that you haven’t heard him use before—and then you realize how stupid you sound. You’ve talked with him twice, you don’t know anything about the voices he uses or how he sounds when he’s talking to this girl who can only be his little sister. 

“Can I have some?” Wheezie propositions back, and Rafe nods. “Okay!” she says, taking a bite of the scoop with her front teeth.

“So, y’gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to guess everything?” 

“My friends, I just keep missing them, or they keep missing me, maybe. I just wanted to see them. It’s really lonely here, that’s all.” You’re staring into his eyes, his really, really blue eyes that are currently a little alarmed and concerned, and the fact that they’re that way for you is making you a little dizzy. 

“Yeah, I get that. Sorry, kid, that’s the lay of the land, right? Not a Pogue anymore, are you?” 

“I don’t know what I am.” You feel silly and embarrassed for pouring your heart out over ice cream with Rafe Cameron. He doesn’t know you, and he never will.

“Well, right now you have a choice. You can sit here and eat ice cream with us, or you can go home and cry about it alone. But if you choose the second one, Richards and Anna will see you, or hear you, and ask about it. And I’m not gonna keep asking if you don’t wanna talk. So pick one before this shi-stuff melts, okay?” 

You nod dumbly again. You’d like to turn your brain off and let Rafe decide for you. 

“I need a spoon.” He smiles, not smirks, for a second, before getting up to get you a spoon.

A few things float through your mind while you eat ice cream with the Camerons. First, Rafe remembers your mom’s name. Second, Rafe doesn’t swear in front of his kid sister. And third, and most important of all, Rafe Cameron cares about you.

“That’s a lot of ice cream,” Wheeze, or rather—as you’ve just learned—Wheezie, comments.

“I was feeling really sad,” you reply, shoving another spoonful into your mouth, watching the little girl eye your peanut and chocolate ice cream inquisitively. “You’ll understand someday.”

“Boy problems?” she asks, and you can’t help but crack a smile. Rafe looks up from his phone momentarily 

“Not really, but a good guess. This would also apply to that situation.”

“My sister’s always got boy problems.”

“Really?” you ask, and then look up Rafe. “You have another sister?”

“Yes,” he says, in between licks of strawberry ice cream. You should really look away when he does that, because your heart rate is picking up. “And she’s even more annoying than this one.”

You laugh while Wheezie frowns.

“If I’m so annoying, why do you always take me for ice cream, huh?”

“She’s got you there, Rafe,” and you resist the urge to look at him, even when you can feel his eyes on you. 

“Because you wouldn’t stop asking, dork, that’s why.” Wheezie shrugs in reply.

“I’m not gonna finish all of this. You want some, Wheezie?” you ask, offering her your spoon. She looks back at you smiling, and then at Rafe for permission, who nods.

She digs into the pile left, while you finally give into the urge to look up at her brother again. He takes another lick of his ice cream and you look away within a second. 

“Been eating that for a while, haven’t you, Rafe?”

“Yeah.” 

Somewhere in between Wheezie eating so much of the ice cream so quickly that she gets a brain freeze, and Rafe finally tossing his half-eaten cone into the trash, it’s time to go home. And as much as you hate to admit it, you don’t want to leave. The rain is coming down hard outside, a preview of the impending hurricane.

“Drive here, kid?” he asks, as your feet hesitate by the door. 

“No,” Wheezie answers, “I came here with you, dork.”

“Not talking to you, kid,” he replies, rustling the top of her hair with his hand, getting an ugh, Rafe, in response.

“Yeah. Yes, I drove here. But my car doesn’t do so good in the rain.”

“Huh?” he questions.

“It’s old, okay. Junky. The AC is broken. And the radio. Sometimes she just stops, y’know?” You gesture to your blue car parked out front, the rusty, tiny sedan two spots down from his shiny truck.

“No, I don’t know. Richards lets you drive around in that thing?”

“She.”

“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”

“She has a name, okay. HoHo. That’s her name.”

“Alright, well, you’re gonna have to ditch the hoe, because I can’t let you drive home in a hurricane in… that.” You turn to glare at him. “Her, sorry.”

That’s how you end up soaking wet in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, Wheezie secured in her booster seat and Rafe even wetter than you are. He drops you home and says the two of you can go pick up your car tomorrow—if it’s still there, he adds at the end, leaning over you again to open your door. You stare at him dumbly again, which has now become a bad habit, and it’s not until Wheezie says you’re getting her wet in the back that you finally climb out and close the door. You stand behind the front door with your mom’s melted ice cream in one hand, and your phone with Rafe’s contact saved in the other, wondering what exactly just happened. 

౨ৎ

The next few weeks pass through as quickly as they came. Your car—to your chagrin and your mother’s joy—does not survive the hurricane. Blake gives you a fancy, luxury car to drive around in that he just had laying around, which you don’t believe for one second. But, your mom is pleased when you actually start driving it, and you can actually listen to music from your phone and enjoy air conditioning and the most luxurious of luxuries—a backup camera. 

The night of the ice cream shop incident, Rafe texts you. You were completely ready to wallow in bed, waiting for the text from him that never comes, drowning your sorrow in more ice cream, but he does text you. First and right away. 

R: Is it wrong if I hope hoho drowns tonight?

that’s so mean. she never did anything to you.

R: She’s kinda ugly. And what was that about no ac?

so she deserves death????

R: The impound lot at the very least

if she dies, it’ll be because YOU manifested it

R: Never thought I’d believe in that manifesting shit, but here we are

did Wheezie eat dinner after how much ice cream you let her inhale?

R: No.

R: Ur fault. You gave her yours

you gave her yours too

and btw, I offered her a bite. she ate the rest. not my fault

R: She’s five, genius

R: I’ll come around noon tomorrow. Sleep tight kid

౨ৎ

Somewhere in between picking up your car—which entailed no less than stopping for lunch, even more ice cream that you can’t stand to watch him eat, and driving through town to see how bad the damage from hurricane Agatha was, and altogether three hours together ending with a wet, heated kiss in his truck with the windows fogged up—and today, you’ve been with Rafe more times than you can count. 

And you try hard to suppress the thought that it’s just because he’s available, that the availability is the reason for your attraction. And then you catch yourself trying to justify why you want to see Rafe so much, this guy that you had just been assuming was bad because your friends told you he was bad, without much in the way of an explanation. 

But Rafe is the furthest thing from bad. He’s so sweet to you it makes you delirious. He picks you up all the time, even when you tell him you’re just at home, and your car is right there. He pays for everything, he opens every door, the gentle but teasing way he is with Wheezie makes you even more head over heels.

But most important of all, he calls you first. He texts you first. He makes you feel wanted, and you definitely, definitely, want him, so you don’t think twice before saying yes to accompanying him to Midsummers. 

You actually don’t know what it really is, besides for a big party. It was always one of the worst nights at the hospital—litters of teens with alcohol poisoning and from car accidents— so your mom would be working. When you turned eighteen, your mom paid for classes to become a junior nurse, and so busy nights like the one of Midsummers usually was, you would get called in too. So before this week, you’d never spent Midsummers doing anything other than cleaning wounds and fetching suture kits.

You tell Rafe this and he looks at you strangely, another of his looks you hadn’t seen before, with furrowed brows, and you flush and apologize, regretting even opening your mouth. 

You know you’re deeper than you thought when he takes your head between his hands and kisses you—messy, with tongue and spit left glimmering over your mouth, so much so that he wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb when he’s done. 

“Go get yourself a pretty dress, and we’ll have fun, yeah?” You nod stupidly again, the way you’re prone to doing around him. He must have realized you get a kick out being told what to do by him, what to worry about and what to focus on. 

You finally take your mom up on the offer to go shopping. Her and your step-dad are going to this thing anyways, but you can tell she wasn’t completely sure you’d go to something so Kook-y, maybe not just yet, and she doesn’t want to push it since your mood finally seems to have picked up. But then you tell her Rafe asked you to go with him, and the two of you smile and jump around the living room, laughing like kids. She’s happy for you and you’re happy that the two of you are happy at the same time.

Rafe sends you money for a dress—enough money to pay for a month’s rent at your old place. Your mom says your step-dad insists on paying. You feel like things are coming together for the first time.

You wander the stores, trying on different dresses and feeling like a scene out of a movie until you finally find the perfect blue dress. Blue for Rafe’s eyes and his suit jacket, because you’re not embarrassed to admit to him that you want to match for Midsummers. It’s patterned with little flowers, ruffles and lace moving in the wind when you twirl, and for once, you stop feeling like you need to pick a side to be on—Pogue or Kook—and you decide just to be Rafe’s for now.

The night of the party, Rafe offers to pick you up, but you tell him you’ll come with your parents. They’re both wearing shades of peach and salmon, the three of you together look like you’re headed to a baby shower, which you and your mom laugh about in the car ride there. 

You text Rafe to let him know you’re there, and tell your parents you’re going to walk around to find him. When you glance back, they’re talking with some of Blake’s friends, people he had invited to the wedding.

You see, what you can only think, is a glimpse of Pope, in his usual waiter get up, but he disappears before you can see where he was. His father is still there, though, and you make your way through the crowd to get near him.

“Hi, Mr. Heyward,” you say, smiling and unsure if he’ll recognize you. You don’t think he’s ever seen you in anything but your overalls or scrubs. 

“How can I help yo-wait, is that you, well I’ll be damned. You’re blending right in, aren’t ya?”

“Well, it took long enough.” You suddenly feel embarrassed, because he knows the old you, the one who wouldn’t be here in a million years. “Do you know where Pope is? I thought I saw him, I just wanted to say hi.”

“He just went off that way, but if you see him, tell him I still need his help over here, just like I did before he walked away—”

“Can I help with anything?” you ask quickly, but he shakes his head and tells you the direction Pope went in.

You follow it generally, trying to see where he could have gone in such a short time. But then you see all of them, and you can’t stop your feet from running over. Kie, JJ, and Pope, all standing and talking about something, but you don’t really care about interrupting. Kie’s all dressed up too, and you suddenly don’t feel so embarrassed.

“You guys,” you feel yourself gushing. “It’s been so long,” and you go in for a hug with each of them. 

“Wow, god, you look so pretty,” Kie says, and you hug her again. You don’t realize how much you missed her. 

“You too, Kie,” your smile is so wide it starts to hurt. “Isn’t this so weird, all of us here at this party? Where’s John B?” you ask, looking around. 

“So weird,” JJ says, and you notice the bruise around his right eye because he’s turning to look at Kie again. 

“JJ, what the hell happened to your face?” JJ doesn’t answer, he actually doesn’t say anything at all, which should have been your first sign that something was wrong. You look at him quizzically, before turning to Pope.

“Pope, your dad’s looking for you, I just went over to say hi-”

“Oh crap,” he says, heading back in the direction you just came from. “Sorry, be right back.”

“W-what the hell is going on?” you question Kie and JJ, searching for any answer, desperately hoping that it isn’t we don’t wanna tell you. Your phone goes off, twice, and you pick it up. The look on your face must have been beyond palpable to your friends.

R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house

R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you

“I-I gotta go inside,” you say, looking at the confused faces of your friends.

“What’s inside? I thought-”

“No, nothing, I don’t know, Rafe just asked me to go inside, and I haven’t even seen him yet-”

“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”

“Y-yeah?”

“What are you, with him, or something?” JJ asks, and you feel your heart fall into your stomach.

“I-I yeah, maybe. I’m here with him tonight, he-” Your phone goes off again. “I’m sorry, I have to go find him, but I’ll come find you guys right after, okay?”

You leave the two of them there, looking at each other confused, looking at you like they don’t recognize you. And it stings, for a moment, until you get inside the mansion and find Rafe hanging out by the entrance, nursing a glass of scotch and eyes lighting up when they see you. 

Everything with him is like that scene from that movie. Lights go dim, you walk in slow-motion, the room goes quiet. He watches you walk up to him and his eyes take in everything—your pretty hair, your dolled up face, the way your dress moves when you walk, and most of all, that you’re here with him. He reaches his hand out to grab you by the waist to bring you in for a kiss. It’s not like the others, it’s chaste and soft and romantic. 

“Hi,” you breathe out, resting your forehead against his.

“Hi, kid. You look fantastic,” and he presses another sweet kiss to your temple. 

“We’re matching,” you say with a smile, taking in his blue suit jacket and the way you feel dizzy right now, and you feel his grip tighten around your waist. 

“Yeah, we are. Now get in line with me, we’re walking out together.” Your eyes are big like coins, because you understood that you were coming here together, but this is his family’s big night, if everything your mom and Blake told you was to be taken seriously.

You don’t have time to say anything, because Rafe’s nice parents line up ahead of you, and his two sisters behind you. Wheezie tugs on your dress and you turn to greet her and Sarah quickly, because then the doors open and you’re walking out, following Rafe’s lead, lots and lots of eyes on you, but only one pair of blue ones you really care about. 

You almost want to cry, the whole thing is so magical. You have a flute of champagne and a sip of Rafe’s scotch, and you are deliciously tipsy for the next two hours. Your parents come over to talk to you and Rafe, and you can see how happy your mom is in her eyes. You and Rafe dance until your feet hurt, and it’s only then, when he leaves your sight, that things seem to get back down to how they normally are. 

You can’t find Wheezie’s parents or Sarah anywhere. The little girl spilled ice cream on her dress and is crying quietly, fat tears rolling down her chubby cheeks. You want to get her parents, because you think they can help, but you end up taking her to the bathroom yourself. With a damp paper towel, you wipe as much as you can, and you promise to get her another ice cream if she stops crying.

“It’s just a stain, honey, don’t worry.” You toss the dirty tissue and grab another one, wiping the tears and then letting her blow her nose. “It’ll come out when you wash it. And no one will notice because it’s so dark now, right?” She nods in agreement. “Do you wanna go find your big brother?” Another sad nod. “Let’s go honey,” and you take her hand and lead her back out. 

You’re not entirely sure what you missed in the last fifteen minutes. Everyone’s gone quiet, staring at what you hope is a trick of your eyes—all of your friends running from the party, hooting and hollering. Kiara’s parents look hopelessly upset, Mr. Heyward downright disappointed, and your mom scanning the crowd, trying to see where you are, until she spots you and Wheezie.

Her and Mrs. Cameron come running over, and you instinctively flinch, thinking the giant headpiece she’s wearing will poke you. You hand off Wheezie and turn to look at your friends, and you think, for a second, they’re waiting for you. They are, you realize slowly, waiting for you.

And you almost take off right then and there, until you feel Rafe’s warm hand on your shoulder, and you look up to see him bleeding.

At that moment, you turn right back around and head inside to the nearest room, sitting Rafe down on the bed and scrambling to find something to clean his wound with, and something cold to help the swelling, and in your panic, you don’t realize you’re rambling.

“I mean, what the hell was all of that? I turn around for two seconds and everyone’s running from the party like there’s a fire, and destroying things and throwing punches, I mean, I get they hate the whole Kook thing, but it was never like this before, even when I didn’t know you yet, and I-” you drop the frozen bag of peas onto the floor in your sudden realization. “I just let them leave. They waited for me. I didn’t go with them.” Your eyes fill with years. That’s a betrayal, not all the stupid stuff you thought was happening before tonight. They waited for you, and you turned right back around to go inside with Rafe.

“Hey, hey hey,” Rafe says quietly, taking your head in his hands again. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

“You’re bleeding, Rafe,” you say, voice trembling. Your tears are ruining your makeup. 

“I’m gonna be fine. You know why?” he asks, and you feel more tears rush down. “Hey, hey, no crying.” Rafe wipes away the tears with his hand, then he brings his hands to your back and rubs soothingly. “You know why, kid?” “Why?” it comes out a whisper.

“Because you chose me. We’re gonna be fine, okay?” 

The way he says it you believe him. 

You spend the next two days at Tannyhill with Rafe, wearing nothing but his t-shirts and doing nothing but rolling around in bed. It’s been a month, maybe a little bit more, and you haven’t even had the talk yet—the sex talk. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s not ready for it, but you’re not ready for it, not yet. You’re working on it. He doesn’t make it easy for you, either. You’ve spent hours now, making out in his lap, grinding against each other until you make a mess all over his shorts and his hair is sticking up in every direction, and working your way up to telling him what you want. 

You’re almost there. You’re waiting for the perfect time. Which was almost right now.

“You like that? Shit-” he breathes into your ear, pressing a kiss to the tender skin of your neck right underneath. It makes you moan again, louder, until he clamps a hand—the one not three fingers deep inside your leaking pussy—over your mouth, barricading the noise from leaving. “Gotta be quiet, kid, you want the whole house hearin’ what a little slut you are?” 

His blue eyes, lustful and blown, stare into your own. You shake your head softly underneath the tight grip of his palm. You’re always obedient with him, but he really likes you like this. 

“Yeah? You gonna do whatever daddy tells you? Just so I keep my fingers in this tight pussy?” You nod compliantly, head falling back on to the pillow. His fingers are thick, and the cool of his ring rubs against your clit in the best way, in ways you didn’t even realize it could feel.

He keeps fucking three fingers in and out of you, moans muffled by his hand but not completely silenced. You must be making a mess, because it’s what he keeps talking about, rambling about your messy cunt, greedy and sucking him in, and how you’ve been cumming for him like a little princess for the last two days, but it’s never enough for you. 

It’s when he removes his hand and kisses you hard instead, tongue deep inside you mouth, the metal of his chain dangling on your chin, and you feel the similarly cool metal of his ring on you, you finish again, exploding around your boyfriend’s fingers and moaning into his mouth. He hears you, repeating his name over and over again, not Rafe, but rather daddy, and he swallows your chants into his mouth. When you calm down, he makes a show of licking his fingers off while locking eyes, and then you get flustered and bury your head into his neck. 

He laughs, because it’s so cute, but only for a minute. Then you two shower together and he makes another show, but this time out of you, kneeling on the floor of his tub while he paints your face with his cum, making sure to cover the necklace you’ve been wearing recently too, the silver, loopy little R hanging between your collarbone. 

Then you get dressed—a little pink dress that’s been his favorite recently, with buttons down the front and a pretty bow where your tits sit— and the two of you have lunch with his family like nothing ever happened.

Rafe drops you back at home later that day, gives you a kiss where he grabs the back of your head to bring you in, and then waves bye to your parents as he unlatches the door for you, in his usual way. 

౨ৎ

A week later, he does the same thing. Drops you off, drives away once you’re inside, and you’re starstruck walking back, so much so, you don’t realize there’s someone waiting for you.

It’s Kie, and Rafe’s sister, Sarah. You’re a little confused since you thought the two of them didn’t get

along,  but they look like they’re fine now.

“Hey, listen, we need you to help us. Can you come down to the Chateau later tonight, after sunset?” Kie asks, and you must look as confused as you feel, because Sarah speaks right away, before you can get a word out.

“You cannot tell my brother. Promise us you won’t.”

“Why are you asking me that? Why can’t I tell him?” Sarah and Kie exchange a look, and it’s clear to you that you are missing several pieces of the puzzle. “Guys! Come on, you-you can’t expect me to just be on board with lying to my boyfriend and showing up to help you guys without knowing what it even is, right? What’s going on?”

“We will explain everything, just please promise us that you’ll come,” Kie implores and you nod hesitantly. 

“And you won’t tell Rafe?” Sarah asks again.

“Come on. Pogues for life, right?” Kie says, and you get a flashback to your life two months

ago—doing anything for your friends and dreaming of how you’d end up with one of the boys someday. It all seems like a million years ago.

“Yes, yeah, yeah, I’ll be there. I won’t tell him.”

You guess that God was on your side today. 

R🧸ྀི: Hey kid. Busy with my dad today. Dinner tomorrow okay?

sounds perfect!! don’t work too hard! i'm gonna watch a movie with my mom and blake and stay in tn

R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?

you know me so well

R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.

You set down your phone on your dresser, feeling like you could throw up your dinner. It’s just starting to get dark outside, and you’ve just lied to Rafe for the first time since you’ve met him. It feels terrible, like something’s gnawing inside you, begging you to come clean and confess, or not to go out at all. You think about it for a moment, maybe if he knows you’re with some of your old friends, it won’t be like a real lie.

Then you remember your old friends are the ones who punched him. You tell your mom you’re going to Rafe’s, and then you get in your fancy car that Rafe helped you christen the other day—in the backseat, specifically—and drive to your old life.

You park next to the Twinkie and get out, stepping into a slush of mud. Your shoes are new, and were clean, and you cringe internally at how much you started caring about these things. You don’t want Rafe to see you with dirty shoes.

The boys and Kie are sitting on the logs near the fire pit. Sarah is sitting right next to John B, looking at him how you look at Rafe, and then you realize the magnitude of just how much you’ve missed.

“Hey,” Kie says, looking up first, smiling. “You came.”

“Yeah.” You’re at a loss for words. Everyone looks the same. Everything feels so different.

A part of you wants to sink down between Pope and JJ, crack a beer, and laugh at jokes you think you would still understand. Another part wants to get into the fancy car and drive to Tannyhill. You opt for neither, standing a few yards away and letting the light from the fire cast its hazy glow over you and all your old friends.

“Did you tell him?” Sarah asks. She means it well, not in a rude way, but that’s how you feel. 

“No, no, I didn’t. He, he thinks I’m at home. With my mom and Blake.”

“Alright,” JJ says, tossing his empty beer can. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Listen,” John B says, getting up and sounding too sincere for your liking. “We all appreciate you coming. Because we need a favor from you, and it might not be easy.”

“I mean, I think it’s gonna be pretty easy. Unless Rafe is like, really, really crazy, like even crazier than we already know he is-” JJ says, but stops when Kie and Pope shake their heads. “What? She knows, she’s the one dating him.”

“Know what? I don’t even know what you want from me-”

“We need a distraction. For Rafe, okay?” John B starts.

“An hour, okay, that’s all we need, right guys?” Sarah asks, looking back at everyone. They nod, trying to convince you, except Jayj.

“Well, like, maybe a couple of hours. If he’s up to that, y’know, I don’t wanna assume shit ‘bout stamina and all that-”

“JJ,” Pope says, shoving the blond’s arm. “You’re not helping.”

“What?” you breathe out, even more confused than before. You start to get what they’re asking, you just don’t want to admit it.

“We need to distract Rafe, for an hour, or like two hours, and we figured you’re our best bet.” John B says, and you look at them with your mouth falling open a little.

“You want me to…sleep with my boyfriend, to distract him, so you guys can do something that you won’t tell me about?”

“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”

“And is, is this thing going to hurt him in the long run? Is he going to be upset? When he finds out what happened?”

“My Kook feelings radar is a little off, right now, but who knows, I mean hell, he might not ever find out,” JJ says, and you want to sit down, because your knees feel weak, but the ground is muddy and the logs are occupied. “If we do our job right, he won’t know for a long, long time, right guys?” A chorus of right, right rings around the fire. 

“And you’re not gonna tell me what this is about at all?” 

“Well, it might not be a good idea. Because, you’re dating him, and listen, we just need like an hour, and he never has to know you were a part of this, okay? I will never tell him, none of us will,” Sarah says, and you do believe her. But you can’t believe that they’re asking you to do this.

“And if he finds out, and he breaks up with me, then what?” 

“Yeah, I, uh, knew this was a bad idea. She’s not gonna do it, guys, so let’s just reformulate-”

“Oh, you knew I was gonna say no, JJ? Lying to my boyfriend? For the people who hurt him?”

“He hurt us too, y’know,” Pope says, and you feel your heart begin to race. 

“No, I don’t know, because no one tells me anything! No one answers their phone and no one’s here when I drive down. Kie, you live two streets away from me now. The first time I saw you all month was at Midsummers and then, today. Asking me to come here to lie to Rafe, to sleep with him to distract him.”

“No, no, we shouldn’t have asked you, because I knew you would say no, I told them-” and you can’t believe the words coming from your friend's mouth. “Look at you, you went total Kook on us.” 

And then you feel like they’re taking it all in. The R around your neck, the jewelry that sparkles in the light of the fire, all yellow citrine, for Rafe’s birth month. The pink dress that’s his favorite—you put it on this morning in case you ended up back at Tannyhill tonight. And worst of all, his white button up hanging from your shoulders, smelling like ocean and sandalwood and Rafe Cameron. 

“It’s like you belong to him now.” You feel a tear sliding down, but you wipe it away. 

“Maybe that’s because he was actually there for me, when I needed it. And I get it, maybe I should have tried harder. But you guys should have too.”

The group of you stand there in silence for a moment. Your phone goes off. You know it’s Rafe. They know it is too. It starts with Kie, and then a course of apologies from everyone. John B wipes away your tears like nothing has changed. JJ scratches his head, and then hugs you tighter than he ever has before. Pope tells you how much he’s missed you, how he had to start bandaging wounds in your absence. 

“I’ll distract him. An hour, that’s all you get. I’m not sleeping with him because you guys want me to, okay? So if he leaves, he leaves.” 

You take off for Tannyhill, leaving your old life behind and risking your new one all at once.

౨ৎ

Rafe’s phone goes off again, and he lets out a short, tight breath. 

Princess: are you still busy at home? i need you

Princess: please rafey

“I’ll be back,” he tells Ward, and before he can even respond, he’s out of the room, calling you. The line rings twice, and then you answer.

“Rafey?” you sound quiet, like you’ve been crying.

“Hey, hey kid. What’s going on? I told you I was working tonight,” and then he runs a hand through his hair, because he knows he’s fucked, if you’re crying and you need him, then he’s going.

“I know, Rafe, I just really need you, I had a really bad night-” “Woah, wait, I thought you were just with your parents?”

“I was, it just got really bad, I-I’m outside Tannyhill because I had to leave, and then I got lost and I was scared so I just came straight here.”

“Lost? Jeez, kid, it’s, like, down the street.”

“But I didn’t wanna bother you, ‘cause you were busy-” and then he hears a hiccup, and then a sob.

“Okay, okay, stay there, I’m gonna come get you,” and he hangs up the call. He darts outside, spotting your navy car and you inside, still in the same clothes from this morning, just wearing his shirt over it, like a jacket. He gets close and you climb out of the car yourself, jumping into his arms and burying your face into his neck, like you always do when you get like this. He can feel the way your body shakes under his arms, the wetness of your tears on his black polo.

“Okay, it’s okay now, come on, let’s go inside.” You make it up the stairs to his bedroom, when Rafe guides you inside and pulls his blinds, so no one peeks inside. 

He sits you up on the edge of his bed, squatting before you, hands in yours, arms resting on your knees. 

“You gonna tell me what happened?” You shake your head, another tear falling. You wish you could say you were pretending, but the tears find their own way when you think about the encounter you just had. You’re lying when you tell him it’s between you and your parents, but his reaction makes you regret it instantly. “Did they say somethin’ to you? Did they try something? I’ll go over there and sort it all out, okay, kid, don’t worry about a thing.” He stands up, running another hand through his messy hair, letting it fall in the moppy way it always does, over his forehead. “Stay here, okay, princess, I’ll be back.”

Then you realize he’s gonna go over there and talk to your perfectly happy, clueless parents, so you stand up and turn him back around.

“No, no, Rafe, don’t leave,” and then you melt into a hug, taking in everything about it. Rafe rests his chin on the top of your head, his arms tight around your back. He smells so good, and the way he’s taking care of you makes you realize a couple things. “Will you just…make me forget?”

Your boyfriend looks down at you, and you don’t shy away from his gaze like you often, when you get flustered. 

“Make you forget?” he questions. 

“I just don’t wanna think about anything else,” you start, undoing the bow of your dress, more cleavage revealing itself. “I just wanna think about you,” and then your fingers undo the buttons trailing down the front of your dress. It falls off your shoulders, and you stand before him, naked, certainly not for the first time but what feels like the most intimate it’s ever been. 

There’s a pretty lingerie set hidden in the back of your closet, what you had actually put aside for this moment, but you had no time to run home and get it, so you opted for the next best thing, taking your bra and panties off in the car ride here, shoving them into your purse, and hoping that Rafe was as tempted as you were.

“Just about me?” he questions, and you take his hand into yours, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips.

“Just you, Rafe. I’m ready, Rafey, I want you to fuck me,” and it seems like that’s all it takes. Rafe crushes his lips against yours, kissing you how he always does, tongue in your mouth and spit everywhere. He holds you by the back of your head and your hands run through his hair. You want him closer, even closer than he already is, than he possibly could be.

His hands leave your head and go down to your ass, grabbing both cheeks roughly and wrapping your legs around his waist. He drops you on his bed, head hitting the pillow, and you pull away for a second, to catch your breath. Rafe doesn’t let it happen, gripping your cheeks between his hand and bringing you back in for another kiss. You’re naked, and he’s still completely dressed, but you don’t miss the obvious way his hardened dick presses against your bare cunt.

You can’t breathe, and all your senses are overpowered by Rafe, but you also don’t really care. You keep kissing, moaning into each other’s mouths and gripping hair and skin that’s sure to leave a bruise tomorrow, until you feel him finally pull away for a second. You catch your breath, open-mouthed and heaving, eyes locked.

“‘M only gonna ask this once, kid,” he breathes, leaving another hot kiss on your neck, which makes you spread your legs further open with instinct. “Y’sure you want this? ‘Cause there’s no going back.”

You nod in that way you always have with him, telling him everything with no words at all. 

“That’s my girl,” he breathes against your neck, and you feel him bite down into the soft skin of the flesh there. You yell out, but it turns into a moan when Rafe licks his tongue over the wound. “That’s just so you can remember this night, okay baby?” You look back up at him, wet eyes, swollen lips, and flushed, sweaty skin. 

“Thank you, daddy.” He smiles, because you’re in for it now.

“You’re welcome, kid. Shit,” he breathes out, “I knew you’d like it, little freak.” He starts with more hot kisses, all the way down your neck, down your sternum, and stopping to press a kiss to each side of your ribs, before continuing down to your stomach. You whine from your position below him, one huge hand holding your hip in place and the other tracing the pattern of the kisses down, until he finally reaches where you want him to be.

“Gotta be quiet, kid, everyone’s home. You gonna let them all hear how much of a whore you are for me? Huh?” he mocks, and you shake your head fervently. “Good girl. You’re being so good, you’re gonna get a treat, okay?” You nod stupidly.

His breath catches for a second, when he gets down to your glistening cunt. He looks up at you from his position there, your chest heaving, tits bouncing with how much you’re squirming, how much you want him to do something. He moves his hands, one resting on your breast, pinching the nipple with his finger, and the other running a line down your pussy. Your whole body twitches up when he runs the metal of his ring over your clit, because he knows you really like it. 

“Rafe, please,” you cry, sounding stupid and fucked out, even though he hasn’t started yet. “Please, please,” and your hips jerk up. He pushes them down. 

“Be patient, kid. Gotta admire this virgin pussy for the last time before I ruin it, ‘kay?” You feel your walls tighten at his words, and you hope he missed the way everything just clenched, but it’s Rafe, and he didn’t miss a thing. “Like that, huh? You like being my little slut?”

You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the damage is done.

Rafe dives in, and you let out a moan that you didn’t realize you were capable of producing. You clamp your own hand over your mouth, because you know he’ll stop if you get too loud. His tongue licks you up and down, and true to what you had always thought, he does know what he’s doing.

The hand pinching your nipples doesn’t relent, and the weight of his arm holds you down when you buck up as he pushes two fingers inside you, scissoring them to stretch your walls out. It hurts, in the best way, and before you know it, he’s added a third.

His mouth stays focused on your clit, and your legs tremble, even though it’s barely been a few minutes. It’s all of it, all at once. Being naked in Rafe’s bed, his hand groping your tits, the way he holds you down without trying, the smell of his cologne and his skin and his sweat, making you lightheaded.

His fingers push in and out, and when he hits that sweet spot inside you, the one your own fingers have never been able to reach but somehow, Rafe’s have become well acquainted with, you can’t help the noises you make.

You repeat his name over and over again, and you think you’ve felt the height of this pleasure, that nothing could surpass this feeling, until your stomach tightens in an entirely new way. Your fucked out brain gets it together for a minute, to feel the overwhelming, ecstatic pressure of Rafe’s tongue on your clit, spelling out his own name. Your stomach tightens, unbearably so, that coil winding up, but before he even finishes the F, it snaps all at once. 

You let out a scream—which you think is so stupid of you. But it feels so good, there was no way around it. Rafe reacts instantly, grabbing your hand that’s pulling his hair and using it to snap over your mouth, all while he rides you through it. 

His nose presses against your clit while he slides his fingers out, your pussy walls clamping around nothing, missing him already. He laps up the mess you just made with his tongue, the noise being so overwhelming, you want to scream again. 

You use your other hand to yank his hair, pulling him up to look at you, because you know you want to see this. Rafe, your Rafe, your boyfriend, with blown, wide eyes and the entire lower half of his face glistening with your juices, with the mess you just made, and then you collapse back down onto the bed. 

Your breathing is heavy. You aren’t sure it’ll ever go back to normal.

Rafe pulls his shirt off by grabbing it from the back, yanking it over his head. Your hand floats up to

touch his chest, to make sure he’s still real and not just a vivid sex dream, but he slaps it out of the way.

“What did I say, hm?” he asks, leaning over you. His face is just an inch too far to kiss. Your limbs feel numb, and you can’t pull him down yourself. You want to cry, because you want to kiss him so badly. “I said you had to be quiet, or everyone’s gonna know what a little whore you are.”

“I tried, daddy, I did-”

“I don’t think you tried at all, kid.”

“No, I did, I swear-”

“You’re lucky that I-” and before he finishes his sentence, you pull him down into another kiss. He tastes like you and scotch, and the combination is so intoxicating, you can’t pull away. “Hey, hey,” he breathes. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” and the soothing way he says it, you believe him.

“I’m lucky that you what?” you ask, unbuckling his belt and snaking it off the loops.

“That I love you, and I’m not gonna punish you tonight for not listening to me.” You drop the belt over your stomach, the melt part hitting with a little clink. You look back up at him, your eyes wide, you imagine, your cheeks flushed. 

“You love me?” you ask, quietly. You can barely hear yourself over the thud of your heart pounding in your chest.

“I do,” Rafe replies, running his hand to smooth over your hair, which you’re sure is a mess now. “Enough that I’m gonna fuck you now, but I had to say it first, because I’m gonna fuck you until you break.”

You’re speechless, watching Rafe unbutton his pants and kick them off, boxers going with them. He strokes himself once, twice, and you’re still staring up at his face, even though normally you would get distracted. 

He looks up again. 

“You ready, kid?” 

“I love you, Rafey,” you say, twisting your hands around to the back of his neck, pushing him into yet another kiss. You can’t pull away, even if you want to, you want him so close that you forget everything else in the world for now. While you’re kissing, he lines himself up with your leaking pussy, which has probably ruined these sheets, and pushes in the tip.

You pull back from the kiss, just to moan, but Rafe silences you with his mouth again. He pushes in more, and more, until you’re sure he’s bottomed out. Your cunt is so, so stretched, you can’t fathom this is what you’ve been missing out on, and it feels so good, like nothing has ever felt before, not his fingers, not his tongue, not any other part of him. 

“That’s halfway, kid, you doin’ okay?” and your eyes jolt up to his in a second.

“H-half?” you breathe out. “I can’t, I can’t take any more, s’not gonna fit Rafe, not gonna fit-”

“Hey,” he repeats, which always has that calming effect on you. “You let me worry about that, okay? Just relax this pussy f’me, okay?” and the way he says it, you do, because you have no other choice. He pushes in again, fast, hard, and then pulls all the way out. You’re too scared to look anywhere but his eyes, so you stay locked in on them, until he pushes all the way in again, and your eyes clasp shut.

“Oh, oh my god, Rafe-” And you don’t care who hears you this time. He pulls out again, just his lip still inside you.

“Look, princess, look down,” he urges, and you follow his instructions, because you always do. “Look where we’re connected, yeah?” He fucks in and out of you, slowly but then faster, and you do look, entranced at the way your pussy sucks him in, the way your cum is coating his dick, at the brutal pace he’s set. 

You look until you can’t anymore, leaning back against the pillow and watching Rafe above you, his face twisted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, mouth panting. He buries his face into your neck, and you grip the top of his shoulders, nails digging in, because you just need to hold onto something.

He told the truth, you think, in your fucked out, blissful state, that he was going to fuck you like he hated you, battering into your sore pussy over and over again. 

You repeat his name—daddy, not Rafe—until he shuts you up with a kiss, and he watches the strings of spit connecting your mouths when he pulls away.

“Just needed this dick, didn’ya princess? Just needed daddy to think for ya?” You moan in reply. “You got it then, kid, because m’never gonna stop fucking you. Y’never gonna think about anything else again.”

And then he finally does you in, because he presses down, right below your stomach, while he slams in, and you feel something inside you break, like a flood breaking through a dam. It washes out to every part of you, from your ears to your fingers to your toes. White hot pleasure runs its course through your body, cunt tightening and shaking, eyes rolling back, your spine arching forward. Through all of it, Rafe pins you down, and fucks you through it. And finally, deliriously, you open your fucked-out eyes, looking up at him.

“I love you, daddy,” and he cums before he can even pull out, messy rivulets shooting inside you, leaking out onto his expensive sheets. He moans into your neck, and his entire body slumps forward, and you giggle under the weight.

A few minutes pass by.

“Rafey, you’re gonna crush me,” you say quietly, sing-songy. You’re so happy, you’ve forgotten everything else that’s happened.

Rafe presses a kiss to your forehead and rolls off, slumping next to you. Your head lands on his chest not a second later, his arm around your shoulder and another kiss to your hair.

“Feel better, kid?” 

“So much better, Rafey.” 

You don’t know when you fall asleep, only that you woke up to the sound of your phone going on. You pick it up, trying to turn down the light so Rafe doesn’t wake up too. There’s one message.

JJ: I thought you said you weren’t gonna sleep with him?

౨ৎ

[bubblergoespop]

My Top Blake Quotes

BLAKEY POOOOO ♡ sassy man

“You’re the brightest spot in my life. You always have been, even when you’re so far away I can barely see the glow.”

“Charming friend you got there. [he’s shaking in his boots]”

“That’s a one-way ticket to ending up in a spiral!”

“Whatever you need of me. I’ll give it, provided you save my love.”

“Questions aren’t really necessary right now, so how about you just sit there and look pretty, hmm?”

“Do you want me to show you exactly what magic can do when it’s not on your side?”

“If that’s what you want, then that’s what I want too. [goofy goofy chuckle]”

“You make me smile, you make me happy. I like being with you. That’s enough.”

“I can’t always keep my head above the water, but being with you is like… having an air tank. I might be below the surface, but I’m still getting oxygen. You’re that oxygen that keeps me going when I’m under."

“I told you, it was nothing... All right, let me clarify, it’s not “nothing”, it’s none of your fucking business.”

“I’m all yours.”

“Your little fuckbuddy-"

“It didn’t feel like a mistake to me. It felt like… someone switching on the lights, and suddenly realizing that I’d been standing in the dark all that time before. It felt like life was suddenly in colour.”

“it felt like I got a taste of everything I’d ever wanted, the most amazing feeling I’d ever experienced and then the next morning, I didn’t just lose the chance at that, I lost my best friend.”

“I’m tired of the dance. I just miss my friend.”

“I can’t be another mistake. Because it’ll break me.”

“You know me, you know how I am.”

“If we’re together, I’ll do everything for you, and I’ll give you everything I can, I’ll give you time and patience, if you need to be with your own thoughts, I’ll give you quiet, but I won’t be able to give you space.”

“The things I think about you, how much I want you… it’s the stuff you’re not supposed to say out loud. The stuff you’re never supposed to admit to feeling.”

“Just sitting at the table one morning, having breakfast when you realized, Oh wait, who's that voice in my head? Must be an ancient, unknowable force in Death. Guess I'll go back to my oatmeal.”

“What are you doing?”

“You would dirty their fucking name by speaking it.”

“if you pick this, it’ll be all of me. All of it. And we both know a lot of that’s not pretty.”

“I’ll get that smile on those pretty lips in the morning, just you wait.”

“I’m not worried you’ll try something. You don’t constitute a meaningful threat in my book. Sorry to bruise your ego.”

“Do I look like I care?”

“I’m not that fucking stupid. [He is]”

“Congratulations, someone please get the gentleman a door prize.”

“You can’t matter.”

“You're going to learn when to shut the fuck up. And spoiler alert, tied up, on the ground, with your powers inhibited? That's one of those times.”

“Wouldn’t that be cute?”

“I sleep easy in the arms of the person I love. Knowing that everything I’ve done, everything I do, I do for them.”

“I never stopped loving you, I’m still back there, I’m still just this scared kid telling you he fucking loves you.”

“Cute. Are you going to keep wasting time with passive aggression or do you actually have something to tell me?”

“I don’t want to die.”

“Yeah, all for you. All of it. [ft D’Deridahn calling him horny in the background]”

[bejeweledblondie]

Peggy, The Pin Up

-

A/N: I apologize for being MIA I’ve had a lot of very great but time consuming things take over my life! I’ve started a 1940s vintage clothing blog & I’m shocked at how successful it has become. On top of that I’ve got promotions at work & it’s opened so many doors for me. I’m hoping to write a bit more!

Warnings: classic 1940’s sexism, mentions of nudity, female pronouns

Summary: Y/N never expected for her pin up prints to be put out… it causes some disruption on Abbott-Thorpe & one dark curly haired aviator comes to her rescue

It all happened on a Thursday morning at breakfast. Y/N sat there in her crisp white uniform shoveling the chalky yellow substance the army called eggs in her mouth. A dark shadow appeared above her plate & a magazine was plopped down in front of her.

“Don’t even try to deny it, this is you isn’t it?” He asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. Speechless she looked away & noticed that the Army’s shipment of Esquire hit the shelves. “God who knew? We knew you were a tease, but this is just another level.” He started. “Do you know what everyone says about you?” She shook her head shamefully, lying to herself. She had heard rumblings in the sick bay from time to time. Sometimes while fixing a patients IV bag or a even helping move a patient a hemline might rise causing a stir.

Before the pilot could continue his chauvinistic teasing session she immediately grabbed her belongings & swiftly exited. Little did she know a dark curly haired pilot was watching the torment happen. Due to rank he couldn’t intervene but oh he so badly wanted to bury the man six feet under. He had grown fond of the nurse, she was always so kind with his men. Incredibly soft spoken & nurturing when it came to the care she provided. He had walked in on her reading a copy of John Steinbeck’s, “Of Mice & Men” to the wounded pilots one evening. She didn’t have to do that, she could’ve been out dancing at the Officer’s Club. But she voluntarily chose to stay after her shift to read to them. He could tell the men greatly appreciated it too, it gave them a small window of comfort during an incredibly traumatic moment in their lives.

Douglass, also watching the debacle rolled his eyes & sipped his coffee.

“These men act like they’ve never seen tits before it’s insane.” He scoffed. Rosie almost choked on the toast he was eating.

“I mean some are freshly turned eighteen.” Blakely reminded him.

“Still, this is going to cause a huge fucking problem.” He swore. “Rosenthal, you okay?” Rosie had been staring off into the space during the duration of the conversation.

“Go to her,” Douglass sighed. “She may be oblivious but I’m not. You’ll also want to scoop her before someone like Egan does.” With that Rosie excused himself & started to head towards the medical ward. The sterile white environment contrasted heavily from the drab olive green darkness of the mess hall. Injured pilots laid in beds reading the paper, being fed their morning breakfast, or having their vitals taken. Valerie, a nurse he knew was friendly with Y/N was checking the vitals on a young sergeant.

“Val!” He said getting her attention & started over to her. “Have you seen Y/N?” He asked.

“Yeah, she seemed a bit off,” She started. “She begged Major to allow her to just work in supply today. You might wanna try there.”

“Thank you.” Rosie replied & made his way to the supply room. There she stood sniffling & rolling gauze. Her eyes were clouded with a melancholy look as she completed the mundane task. He knocked on the door frame causing her to look up slightly startled.

“Oh Major Rosenthal it’s you,” She said with a slight tremble in her voice. “What can I do for you?” He cringed at her using his rank, usually it would make his blood pressure rise & heart race. But this circumstance was entirely different.

“I saw what happened in the chow hall,” He started. She’s started to wipe away tears. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” He said wringing anxiously. She sighed deeply & looked away.

“I’ll be alright,” She stated. “I’m just going to lay low for a few weeks.” It broke his heart to see her this way. She was always a little jumpy & anxious to begin with. This situation just poured gasoline on a oil fire.

“No,” Rosie stated. “You shouldn’t let some asshole make you feel uncomfortable.” She stared him with big wide eyes. “If it makes you feel any better I’ll escort you places.” Her eyes softened as she listened to him. A small crimson warmth crept onto her cheeks at the mere mention of him escorting her.

After a few weeks, the heat died out about the pin up nurse. Rosie & Y/N had become closer over the weeks. His protection meant no one would even try to touch a hair on her head. From lingering touches, longing gazes, & of course Rosie sitting on her nightly readings to the wounded pilots. He (like every man on post who took a liking to her) did keep a copy of the pin up photo.

On missions he’d keep the folded piece of paper tucked into the pocket of his sheepskin. A reminder of what he was protecting & fighting for. His calloused thumb would graze over her innocent smile as he admired the image. Even in his bunk, he’d spend some alone time with it after everyone had fallen asleep. During one night after the pin up photo was brought up by a rookie pilot, & in turn making Y/N uncomfortable. Rosie knew he had to make her see what he saw in the photo. After some discussions with Ken Lemmons, he decided to really make sure he was reminded everyday was he was fighting for.

With hands covering her eyes he directed her to the airstrip.

“Rosie I can’t see!” Y/N giggled, tripping over her own feet. He chuckled at her natural clumsiness. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see, you’re so impatient.” He said. He lead her right up the nose to his beloved bomber. “Okay now you can see.” With the removal of his hands & a adjustment to the sunlight she was staring at herself painted on the side of his bomber. The same pin up that graced Esquire months ago that brought them together. She gasped in pure shock at the artwork.

“Oh, Rosie.” She gasped unable to speak. “Did you paint this?”

“With a little help from Lemmons.” He replied. “I want you to see what I see. A beautiful woman. Do you like it?”

“I-wow,” She smiled. “I love it.” She turned around to face him. He was staring down her, admiring the way the sun light reflected off her hair. He brushed stray strands of hair behind her ear. His hand lightly danced across her cheek bone as he stared adoringly into her eyes. He leaned down & placed a tender kiss onto her lips. She reciprocated & kissed back. Her arms wrapped around his neck & his slowly gravitated to her waist pulling her in closer. After pulling a part they rested foreheads against one another.

“God you have no idea how long I’ve always wanted to do that,” He admitted.

[howlingday]

A Most Unusual Unit

Good morning, or rather, good evening, "Nightshade". Excellent work on your last assignment. Thanks your efforts, the councilman has lived to see another day, much to the great benefit of Vale. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I have another assignment for you already. Your new target is the leader of the Spiders organization, "Little Miss" Charlotte Malachite. She is a grave threat to peace between Vale and Mistral. Your mission is to get close to her and gain any information that may be related to seditious activities.

In order to do this, you will have to marry and have a child.

Blake: (Spits out her coffee, Coughs) EXCUSE ME?!

Little Miss is a reclusive woman and is notably suspicious of others. At this point, she operates almost entirely behind the scenes. Her only public appearances of late have been her attendance at the elite private school her daughters attend. These events act as informal get-togethers for the upper crust of society and the lowest of low in the criminal underworld. You are to enroll your child at this school and gain entry to these events. However, admission deadlines are approaching fast. YOU'VE ONLY GOT ONE WEEK.

Blake: (Rips encoded-cypher paper in half) THEY EXPECT ME TO HAVE A CHILD IN SEVEN DAYS?! (People stare at her, Ahem!) Excuse me...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blake: Listen up, little girl.

Penny: I'm Penny!

Blake: Listen up, Penny. From now on, you are my child. As far as everyone knows, however, you have always been my child. Understood?

Penny: Understood!

Blake: You will address me as "Mother," as the elites do.

Penny: Mama!

Blake: Very well.

Old Woman: What an adorable girl~.

Blake: Thank you. We're the Belladinas. We just moved in.

Penny: I'm Penny, and I have always been Mama's child!

Old Woman: Huh?

Blake: (Thinking) You don't need to say that!.

Penny: Mama, I want a silenced pistol~!

Blake: If we see one on sale.

Old Woman: What a strange family...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jaune: (Answers phone) Hello, Arc residence.

Jaune: Oh, Saph!

Saphron: (Via phone) How are you doing, baby bro?.

Jaune: Good. Everything's good. I'm still hard at work in Vale!

Saphron: Still as weird as ever. Don't make me worry about you.

Jaune: You don't have to sound so mean about it! And I am not weird!

Saphron: Jaune, when are you going to get married? You find a good lady friend yet?

Jaune: (Thinking) Not this again...

Saphron: Listen, I might be offered a big promotion here soon, but that'd mean I'd be too busy to look after you. I'm not gonna say no right off the bat, but it doesn't feel right for me to abandon you in the big city. Like I always tell ya, I'm forever grateful for you taking care of me all this time, and that's why I want to make sure you're happy.

Jaune: I know, Saph. Thank you.

Saphron: I think I know some cuties out here in Argus. Maybe I could put in a good word for you?

Jaune: Ah! N-No! You don't need to do that! A-Actually, I'm heading to a party this weekend... and I'll be bringing someone!

Saphron: A girl?!

Jaune: Uh, y-yeah, I guess that's one way to describe her. So don't worry about me, okay?

Saphron: Alright. So, who's throwing this party? One of your co-workers?

Jaune: Mm-hm!

Saphron: Great! I'll have Pyrrha give me the full details on this girlfriend of yours!

Jaune: Eh?

Saphron: No offense, Jaune, but you can be pretty naive. I just want to make sure the girl you're digging isn't just digging into you, right?

Jaune: Uh, well-

Saphron: And I'm gonna hold off on this promotion until I know you're happy!

Jaune: Y-You don't need to-

Saphron: Can't wait to hear all about her, baby bro! Ciao~! (Click)

Jaune: (Hangs up, Pacing) What do I do?!. What do I do?!. I need to find a girlfriend now!. If Saph finds out I lied, she'll think there's something wrong with me!. Then she'll never get that promotion, and Terra'll be mad at me!. Adrian will never play with me again!.

Jaune: (Phone rings, Answers) Saph, listen! About what I said earlier, I was just joking! I-

Boss: (Via phone) Having family trouble?. That's unusual for you.

Jaune: Oh! Headmistress! I'm so sorry, I was-

Boss: Good evening. I have a client for you, Rusted Knight.

Jaune: (Eyes dim)

Boss: The Glass Unicorn. Room 1220.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jaune: Excuse me.

Proprietor: Oh, hello again, Jaune! How can I help you?

Jaune: I'm going to a party tonight, so I need my slacks patched up ASAP. Er, if that's okay, of course.

Blake: (Flinches, Thinking) How did he get by without me noticing?!. Jaune... Hm... Right. Jaune Arc, 26 years old, never married, and never divorced. Parents deceased. Seven sisters, six dexeased, one surviving, couple years older. They're both ordinary civilians with nothing on their files. Maybe I'm getting sloppy-

Jaune: Um, miss? You've been staring at me since I came in here. Is there something I can help you with?

Blake: He sensed me watching him?!. How?!.

Blake: Oh, uh, no. I just thought... you were really cute. Excuse me for being rude.

Jaune: Wait, so... I'm good looking to you?

Blake: Um, yes?

Jaune: Miss-

Penny: Mama! I got measured! Huh? Who's she?

Blake: He's another customer, like us.

Jaune: (Thinking) I almost asked another man's wife on a date! I've heard stories of men being murdered for things like that. BUT THIS TIME, I'D BE THE ONE TO DO THE KILLING.

Penny: !

Jaune: No! I can't even fantasize about a thing so horrible! It's thoughts like those that'll expose me as an ASSASSIN.

Penny: (Thinking) A- A- A- A- ASSASSIN?!.

Blake: (Spy)

Jaune: (Assassin)

Penny: (Telepath, Starved for entertainment) SOOO COOOOL!.

Blake: I thought he'd make for a good fit for the husband role, but his intuition could threaten my mission.

Jaune: I thought she'd be able to pull off the girlfriend role, but I can't afford any kind of unnecessary bloodshed.

Penny: (Looks down, Covering her face) Oh, boo hoo hoo! I am so sad about Papa!

Blake: P-Penny?! What are you-?!

Penny: I just miss my papa so very, very, very much! If only he could see me in my pretty dress!

Jaune: Oh, is your husband away?

Blake: Ah... You see... My husband actually passed a few years ago. I've been working hard to support my daughter as a single mother.

Jaune: Then... Then no one could try to kill me if I asked her!.

Jaune: Um, excuse me...

[midnightsun-if]

Suppose this more down the line, but, what would RO’s reaction be to finding a engagement ring hidden in MC things?

Koda: A small frown furrows his brow at the sight of the box, expression one of deep confusion; something that only grows when he opens it and sees the beautiful ring that lays within it. Why would MC keep this hidden? With a gentle hold, Koda takes the box and places it carefully onto the dresser. He knows that you wouldn't be back until later, which meant he could go to the store a pick you up a jewelry box. It'll be a lot better than keeping his things in a drawer.

Scarlett: The late autumn chill, and subsequent pricks of icy needles piercing her skin, is what led her to your closet; in search of an old sweatshirt that'd fight off the weather, at least for the moment. She didn't mean to stumble across the unassuming box, but she instantly buries it under another sweater before taking a step back. Just pretend you didn't see anything. It's clear this was meant to stay hidden, she orders herself, hand smoothing down the material of her newly acquired sweatshirt. It's probably nothing.

Cyrus/Cyra: With a shocked gasp, they instantly tuck the box back into the place they had found it-- shame welling within their chest at finding something you had clearly wanted to keep hidden, but a soft smile comes unbidden to their lips regardless. They know what the ring meant, or could mean, which meant that they had to step up and show their flame that they reciprocated the feeling. They just had to figure out the best time to gift their love the feather they've been hiding for the last few months.

Quinn: Warmth spreads across their chest at the sight of it, even if they're well aware this is something they definitely should not have seen yet. With careful hands, Quinn lightly places the box back into its hiding place and takes a small step back. They wouldn't say anything about what they found... Not yet at least. They just wanted to bask in the happiness the moment brought them a bit longer.

Caden: A small frown furrows their brow, clearly not understanding what it is that they found. They, of course, understood the significance of rings, at least in some small way, but this alluded them. "Are they worried someone might steal it?" They muse softly, running their finger lightly over the smooth velvet of the box. "Maybe I could get them a lock box?" Part of them is well aware they're being purposefully obtuse, but the other part of themself feels the need to hide from what this could possibly mean.

Sloane: Their eyes narrow into slits at the sight of the box, tucked neatly behind the pack of their last carton, and a deep sigh escapes them, the need to facepalm overwhelming. "I'm surrounded by idiots," they mutter, tucking their cigarettes into their leather jacket, before placing the items back in front of the box. "Who hides something there?" However, even as their exasperation rushes through them, they couldn't help the small smile that comes to their lips at what the box could mean.

Blake: A wide grin stretches across their lips at the sight of it, the beautiful ring already being delicately held in the palm of their hand. "Great taste, angel." The feel of the cool metal against their skin is refreshing, something they never knew they wanted until now. Flexing their hand, marveling at the way the ring glints in the light, their earlier grin softens into a smile. "Looks like I have a new favorite accessory."

Reginald/Regina: "What's this?" They tilt their head, observing the box before a small gasp escapes them at the sight of the beautiful ring the lays within. It hadn't been something they meant to discover, having simply been on the search for the book they had leant you weeks before, but they couldn't deny the discovery of this wasn't better than finding their book. Anything would be when it comes to potentially spending forever by your side.

[cozy-writer]

Getting caught

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Y/N

Wordcount: 2.5k

Summary: Bellamy was the guard that got you caught on the Ark. You meet again on earth.

Masterlist

The dropship rattled and groaned as it made its descent down to earth. You were strapped in tight, but that didn’t take away from how scared you were. You had grabbed the hand of the nearest person to you, which happened to be Monroe. A girl who, alongside yourself, was also locked up in the skybox. You screamed loudly as the dropship gave another shudder, before finally coming to a halt on the hard ground beneath it. 

You breathed out a shaky breath and unclenched your fist from around Monroe’s hand.

“Sorry.” You muttered at her. 

“T’is fine.” She responded. After your heart rate had gotten back to an acceptable rhythm, you started working on releasing the seatbelt. 

You heard comotion on the floor below yours and as soon as you unbuckled yourself you made your way towards the ladder. You jumped down the last couple of steps and turned around. You were faced with the beauty of earth. The greenery, the small, it all almost became too much for you. How was this possible? How were they breathing in this air and not dying? 

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You mumbled as you noticed the one person you never wanted to see again. “Well, if it isn’t Bellamy Blake.” You said loudly so he would hear. The guy in question looked around for the face that belonged to the voice. His eyes finally met yours as you stepped out into your new world. Others were now also facing you to see what was going on. 

“You got me caught.” You said. He raised an eyebrow at you.

“You got yourself caught. I was just the one who brought you in.” He said smugly. 

“That’s not something to be proud of around here.” You motioned to the other delinquents. 

“I’m on your side.” He said as he noticed the increasingly angry faces around him. 

“Maybe down here, but not up there.” You pointed to the ark still high in the sky. “And I don’t see how that makes a difference. You still sided with the guards that threw us in the skybox.” 

“All I care about is Octavia, okay?” 

“Octavia? Who the fuck is Octavia?” You asked confused.

“My sister.” He said. Multiple shocked gasps were heard. 

“You have a…sister?” You asked confused. 

“How is that possible?” Someone asked from behind you. 

“He’s talking about me.” A girl with long brown hair said. “I’m Octavia.” You looked between the two of them, shock written all over your face. 

“You’re the girl they found under the floor.” You said with awe. 

“That’s me.” She said awkwardly. 

The next couple of days you stayed clear of him, not wanting to see his face. His betrayal hurt you deeply. However today you couldn’t avoid him and you bumped into him on your way to guard duty. 

“Y/N.” He said, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Bellamy.” You responded. He looked at you for a second, before pulling on your arm and dragging you to a secluded spot. You had to admit, this shaggy hair looked better on him then his slicked back hair ever did. 

“What do you want?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“I only took the job to keep O safe.” Bellamy explained. 

“So?” Bellamy looked uncomfortable for a second.

“So, I never intended to get you caught.” 

“Then why did you?” You asked, now getting angry. “Why couldn’t you just let me go?” 

“Because Shumway had seen the footage, there was no getting around it. If I didn’t do it, I would have lost my job and someone else would have caught you.” You looked at the ground, figuring out what to say, but all you managed to say was, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.” And with that you turned around and walked back to your job. You weren’t okay with it, but you also saw that he didn’t have a choice. 

“Hey!” He said before you were out of earshot. You turned back around to face him. “I wouldn’t have done anything different if I could do it over again.”

“So you’re not even sorry you got me caught?” Your temper flaring again. 

“No,” He said, rubbing a hand over his forehead, “I wouldn’t have met you otherwise.” He said sheepishly. 

A slight blush rose to your cheeks. Was he flirting with you? You quickly rolled your eyes at him and made your way back to guard duty. You guys had bigger things to take care of. 

When the grounders attacked two weeks later you’re still recovering from the sickness that ravaged the camp as are most of the delinquents. You ran towards the gun cache and armed yourself with a rifle, but you felt yourself shake as you spotted the many grounders now encircling your camp. You aimed your rifle at one of the grounders trying to claw its way in and after taking a big breath you pulled the trigger. The grounder fell motionless to the floor. It shook you to your core, knowing you just killed someone. Knowing it probably won’t be the last time. 

All of a sudden you were thrown to the ground. A big grounder stradling you, using his hands to cut off your airflow. You struggled. You grabbed at the ground beside you, trying to grasp the gun that had flown away after his tackle. Trying to grasp anything to help you escape. You started to see black dots in your vision. Your heart beating rapidly in your ears. You were going to die. This was it. You clawed at his hands, trying to squeeze your fingers between his to relieve the pressure on your throat, but nothing seemed to work. 

When your eyesight fully disappeared you felt a calm come over you. Maybe dying wasn’t so bad after all. But before you could think about it anymore, the pressure lifted and you took in a big painful breath, clutching at your throat. You scrambled backwards from where you were laying, trying to get as much ground between you and the grounder. You coughed loudly, trying to clear your airway. You rapidly opened and closed your eyes to get your sight back. 

Once you could see again you looked for the grounder who had attacked you. The grounder lay unmoving in the grass, blood pouring from a wound on his head. You looked up and noticed Bellamy standing over him with a blood covered rock in his hands. 

“Are you okay?” He asked husky. You nodded at him, not trusting your voice. You rubbed at the skin over your throat, probably red and purple from the fight. 

“Good.” Bellamy said. He held out a hand for you to grab and you did. You stood shaky on your legs for a second, but found your balance eventually. 

“We gotta go.” 

“Okay. Where?” You croaked. Bellamy looked around the clearing. 

“Bellamy. This way!” Finn yelled from around the camp. He motioned for you to follow through a tunnel you all built just in case of an attack like this. Bellamy pushed you forward with his hand on your lower back, keeping you steady as you trip over a log. 

You run until you can’t breathe anymore. Doubling over to get as much air in your lungs as possible. It still hurt from your previous attack, your throat dry and scratchy. 

“Let me get a look at that.” Bellamy said. He got closer and waited for your reaction. You nodded and he used his hand to push your chin up so he could have a better look at your neck. His fingers raked over your throat, his touch making you shiver. 

“You should cool the area. Try to fight off the swelling.”

“How do we do that?” Finn asked, looking concerned for you. 

“We use a piece of cloth and soak it in water. It’s the best we can do.” Bellamy explained. 

He tore a strip of his shirt and dunked it in the nearby river.  Then he walked over to you. 

“Sit.” He said, placing the cloth over your throat as you listened to his order. You leaned your head back so the material would stay on your neck. The coolness of the fabric immediately soothing the skin. 

"Oh, that's nice.” You moaned, your hand reaching up to touch the cloth covered skin. 

“We need to find a place to sleep.” Finn said. Bellamy nodded at him and looked around.

“We need to find the others.” You murmured. 

“Tomorrow.” Bellamy agreed. “Tomorrow we will go back. For now, we need sleep and time to heal.” 

The guys looked for twigs and started a small fire. You had nothing to eat, but you weren’t even sure if your throat could handle it anyway. As night fell you lay down on the cold and hard ground. Bellamy sat on a log, poking a stick into the fire every so often. He looked over at you and smiled.

“Sleep. I’ll watch over you.” And as scared of him you were up in the Ark, you felt as safe down here. You noticed that Finn had also already laid down and you wondered if Bellamy was going to take watch all night or if you should offer to switch half way through. But before you could even form the words your eyes had already closed and your mind was taken over by a heavy fog. 

The following day you woke up to the sun rising above the threes. Dew covered the forest around you. You looked around, noticing only Finn hanging around your campfire. 

“Where’s Bellamy?” 

“Here.” He said, stepping out of the trees, “Just getting us some berries for breakfast.” He said after he popped on in his mouth. He handed you a handful and the rest he gave to Finn. 

“How’s your throat feeling?” You took one of the berries and started chewing on it, trying to smush it as much as possible, knowing it would go down rough. Finally you swallowed and flinched in pain when the berry went down. 

“Could be better.” 

“We should get to camp. Clarke could look at it for you. Maybe she has another idea.” You tried another berry, but as it hurt just as much as the first one, you handed the leftover ones to Finn who was wolfing them down as if he hadn’t eaten in days. 

“Yeah, let’s go. No use in hanging around.” You said. Bellamy gave you a hand, helping you up. 

“Do you think the grounders are still there?” Finn wondered aloud. 

“We were strong. I’m sure we survived the fight. They must have at least retreated once they knew they weren’t going to win.” Bellamy assured. 

Your trek back to camp was long, your body tired, your neck sore. But what you saw as you entered the camp froze you to your spot. The ground was littered with burned bodies. And you couldn’t tell whether they were friendly or foe. 

“Holy shit. Raven must have been able to fire the rockets, burn them fuckers alive.” Finn said, impressed. 

“Let’s just hope none of our people were involved.” You interjected. You slowly made your way through the field of bodies to the dropship. You grabbed the flap that was hanging from the ceiling and pushed it aside. Immediately you stepped backwards as a gun was trained on you. 

“Raven!” You said surprised. 

“Y/N! Thank god, I thought you were one of them.” You noticed she looked terrible. Her skin clammy and she was shivering. 

“What happened to you?” 

“I got shot.” 

“Shot?” You furrowed your brows at her. “That means it was one of us who’s done this.” Raven only nodded, not giving you a name. Both Bellamy and Finn walked in behind you. Finn ran up to Raven, who was writhing on the ground in pain. 

“Where are the others?” Bellamy asked as he looked around the dropship. 

“They’ve been taken.” 

“Taken? By who?” He asked again. 

“I don’t know. They used this gas to make us pass out. I must not have made the cut.” Raven said as Finn helped her sit up. 

“Whoever is in there, show yourself.” A male voice yelled from outside. All four of you turned to the entrance. Bellamy grabbed Raven’s gun and slowly walked out the dropship. You could hear muffled talking from outside. You decided to go investigate on your own, making your way towards Bellamy. 

“Councilman Kane.” You said softly, not sure if you were seeing things right. Last you knew all the Arkers were still up in the sky. 

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N. We’ve made it to earth.” He knew who you were from your sentencing. 

“Are you okay?” Abby Griffin asked as she looked at your neck. You remembered her from your visit to the hospital wing a couple months back. 

“I will be.” 

“Have you seen Clarke?” She asked hopeful. 

“Not since last night. Raven said they were taken. Speaking of Raven, she needs medical attention.” You said, motioning for her to follow you inside the dropship. Abby immediately went to work. 

You had made your way back outside again, standing next to Bellamy, having a conversation with Kane. 

“Do you have a camp?” you asked full of hope. 

“We do.” Kane nodded at you. “We’re gonna get you back safe and then start looking for your friends.” You and Bellamy shared a look. You didn’t know if you could trust Kane. He was one of the people that had decided the 100 were dispensable. 

Kane made his way into the dropship, wanting to get a look at Raven himself. You and Bellamy stayed outside. Bellamy raked a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. You snaked your fingers in between his hand and squeezed once, letting him know you were there for him. He turned to face you. 

“I should have been here.” 

“You did good, Bellamy. Without you I wouldn’t be standing here right now.” 

“I should be with the others. Wherever they are.” 

“We will find them and bring them home.” 

“How?”

“We will find a way.” He was looking away from you and you used your other hand to make him face you. “You did good.” He looked so broken and your heart shattered for him. He had taken his leadership hard, promising to keep them all safe. And now here he was in a field surrounded with burned bodies not knowing if his friends were safe. 

“Hey.” You said, grabbing both sides of his face so he was looking you in the eye. “Stop being so hard on yourself.” Bellamy’s eyes switched between looking at your eyes and lips. You wet your lips and before you knew it, the two of you were kissing. His lips rough against yours. One of your arms wrapped around his neck, the other still on his cheek. Bellamy’s arms engulfed your body, pulling you even closer. 

Thinking about it now, you wouldn’t change getting caught either. Otherwise you wouldn’t have met Bellamy Blake. And that would have been a shame.

[opalharkness]

The White Fang

I have a lot of mixed feelings about the White Fang arc in RWBY. On one hand, I think it did what it needed to for Blake's character but on the other hand the scene at the beginning of volume 6 with Llia saying that the Faunus in Mistral were being treated better because of their help saving Heaven does feel a little model minority ish. Which isn't exactly a good thing. You know. I also don't think it was as bad as people say it is.

I've seen people say that it's just another story about minorities being demonized for standing up against their oppressors. But that's not what this story is.

Stories like that usually involve a non-oppressed person attempting to tell an oppressed person how to deal with their oppression. But that's not what happens in RWBY. Blake, the main focus of this arc, is a faunus. She's arguing with her fellow faunus about how liberation can be achieved. It's also important to note that she never once invalidates Llia's feelings or even Adam's when it comes to the abuse they have faced at the hands of bigots. She instead criticizes the way they reacted to that abuse.

Adam (and Llia) lashed out at the world and hurt others in the name of revenge. Because that's what it was revenge. Adam's mindset wasn't about justice for the faunus like he pretended it was. It was only about him, about getting back at the world for how it harmed him. Not about creating a better world so that no one will ever have to suffer like he did. Blake wasn't lying when she called him Spite.

I mean the opening scene to Adam's short ends with him telling a group of Faunus "It's about time we get what we deserve". Which is such an interesting choice of words. The whole scene is so interesting because it's basically a summary of Adam's whole philosophy. He has suffered and is therefore entitled to take what he wants because the world owes him.

It was never about the faunus hell even his theme song Lionize tells you that up front. After all the word Lionize is defined as "give a lot of public attention and approval to (someone); treat as a celebrity." And yet people still misunderstand Adam. It's crazy to think that I am the only true Adam fan all of the rest of his so-called fans don't get him the way I do!

Another thing to note about this arc is that Sienna Khan, once she appears on screen, is never demonized by the narrative for her more proactive stance. In her one and only scene, outside of the Adam short, she is portrayed as a reasonable leader who cares about her people. Hell Ghira even says that despite their ideological differences she is someone he has a deep respect for.

So no the White Fang arc is not about demonizing an oppressed group of people for standing up against their oppressor. It is instead about an oppressed group of people arguing and fighting amongst themselves about the best way to achieve liberation. The conclusion that the show comes to is that liberation is achieved not through revenge, hate, and spite but through love, trust, and community. "Victory's in trust and kindness"

whether or not you think the arc was done well or think they got the message across in the way they might have wanted to is up to you. I think they did a decent job of presenting those ideas in the best way they could at the time. However, I do think things could be better there is always room for improvement after all.

[edwardalbee]

tagged by @evilhole thank you evilhole this is a fun one

List five things you never get tired of writing. it can be tropes, themes, characters, phrases, whatever brings you joy. then tag five people!

when characters have very specific turns of phrase and speech patterns. this is something that I usually arrive at later in the drafting process/after working with actors, but sometimes happens in a perfectly unconscious way. recently i noticed a character in my play says "no, not at all" like three times (and miraculously is the ONLY one who says it so it wasn't just a case of me being repetitive.) and it turns out these words are kind of a secret key to his character--he says it to reassure someone that he is a safe person when he is really maybe not. and then i get to think about like, where did he pick up that phrase? from a parent? friend? ex?

love stories especially ones that don't resolve or play out conventionally. also this is going to sound really YAcore but I also care a lot about relationships between queer people that are somewhere between or perhaps even beyond romance and friendship. (my most recent play kind of explores the concept of fujoing out with your bestie)

i love writing backstage drama, art about making art, metafiction, parafiction, self-inserts, imbuing deeply personal things into the script, shit like that. a lot of things i like are either directly about or secretly metaphors for creating art too. self centered? probably but whatever.

a lot of the protagonists in my plays are going through some kind of process of cathexis onto another person, and the plot is often about what happens when the reality of said person strays from your idealized version of them. i think i keep returning to this idea because it happens to me A Lot.

sex but only when it's awkward and violence but only when it's vaguely erotic. sorry

tagging @bill-blake-fans-anonymous @torturelabyrinth @danishprince @rustchild @leonardcohenofficial

[in3rci4]

TBP HEADCANONS ABOUT ....

{ Friend / someone they know with addiction problems / who's a bad influence }

Characters included : Finney Blake , Gwendolyn Blake , Robin Arellano , Bruce Yamada , Billy Showalter , Griffin Stagg , Vance Hopper

Warnings ! ! : Angst , addiction subject , mention of underage , physical and mental consequences of consuming , some characters would be influenced in consuming as well , crime commiting , mental illness , gun owning , aggression ( verbal and physical ) , manipulation , toxic attitudes , drugs , weed , alcoholism , smoking , no specific pronouns , etc

Author's note : if YOU or someone you know is going through some of these things help them if you can , sometimes actions are better than words , but do not let yourself or others be at risk , remember to always keep in mind that addiction can lead the person to lose touch with reality or with their emotions and will not act the same as before , so if the problem it's too big for you to handle , try to seek professional help if you feel out of control or seeking these substances more than normal or another close person of your circle , it's never late to change. End of the note .

Finney Blake would ...

Stay away from those type of people . I feel like it's easy to picture him as someone who would try to seek help for them or be in touch without difficulty with people like this but no , he lives in a constant survival mode with his father who's an alcoholic , so he knows how hard it is to keep it on when the addiction changes the person's mood and treats harshly or carelessly the ones they're close . He's not against helping a person in need as long they don't represent any danger and he's able to move on with his life , would be polite and kind in a conversation but will not befriend someone who's notoriously bad news , he's ok with fighting if it's in your defense , but constant trouble is just a no

Gwendolyn Blake would...

Not care as long as they don't treat her bad or force her into consuming as well . It's not like she would seek a bad influence on her life purposely , but if someone she met is nice and cool enough she would slowly befriend them with time . I think she would try to make the person stop consuming or at least less than normal , tell them that she doesn't like when they do it in front of her . But like I said , contrary of Finney , she's unintentionally used to it and wouldn't see that much of problem , but the second they try to make her consume as well or treat her bad she would not think twice in getting away or defend herself . She would also cut all sort of friendship if the person hurts others that are innocent , her friends or brother

Robin Arellano would...

Not care at first but would slowly start to consume as well , the habit staying with him for life even if they stop talking with the bad influence person . The person got his attention because of their fighting skills and reputation , they getting along with Robin and he would soon notice their love for smoking and drinking . At first , like I said previously , he would not care or say anything about it , it's their problem he would say , but with time he would try some just to impress the person a little , realizing that he can get even more respect from them and the school if he kept the habits . He normalized this because I believe his uncle might also smoke and drink but he would not rationalize that he's an adult and he's still in school trying to pass the year .The bad influence would make him be more irresponsible than before , this would be noticed by their family and they would scold him for it , that's when he would try to stop and moderate himself . The only way he cuts all friendship between him and that person is that they want him to do drugs , starts to mock him or hurts innocent people , that would make him back off from that person in a blink , if so person confronts Robin , he would aggressively told them to leave him alone and might be physically violent if they persist . If not , he would not see the problem in them . If so case Robin moved on from them , the damage would be already done , because he would keep smoking and drinking all along to relieve some stress , growing up with the bad habits

Bruce Yamada would...

Become addicted as well but would recover himself completely . I see him as a party type of guy and he definitely tried alcohol before but in a small amount , never getting to the drunk state until he goes to a party with strong drinks and would probably still in there because he would dismiss any danger . If pressured , I feel that Bruce would try drugs thinking it would be a one time occasion , but no . A bad game streak would make him feel on the line of being a disappointment in everyone's eyes , so in need of a distraction he goes to a party , the bad influence shows up again and tells him to take once more the substances to " feel alive " . His winning streak came back and he started to celebrate party after party , getting more and more addicted , convinced it was making him more confident and efficient on the game , but that wasn't enough , he would search outside those events and even take them before every game because he firmly believed it was the cause of his luck . It isn't until his family , clean friend , school authority or Bruce getting into a fight with a baseman for loosing where his parents grounded him , and in that time , he realizes what he had done . Later he would tell other people himself about what he been through , get himself distance from alcohol , drugs , cigarettes , bad influences , everything , focusing on the sport that he loves so much and the little simple things in life that don't need anything more to be special

Billy Showalter would ...

Try to help the person but would move on if they keep consuming . It really depends if he knows them better or not , if he never spoke once with you , he won't care , even if it's sad seeing someone's on his age consuming he would keep doing his thing . The story changes when that person is a close friend or family , then he would try everything that he can to make them understand that it's not the way , if he has the opportunity babysitting / parenting the person after a hangover , munchies , near overdose , fight , etc . But even if he wants to take care of those he cares about , if the person doesn't stop what they're doing and treats him badly or keep making fake promises of change , sadly but tired he would move on and let them be . If the person becomes clean he can reluctantly agree to come back in touch until he's sure they are out of that life for sure , if not , then he knows he tried , he's just a paper news delivery boy after all .

Vance Hopper would ...

Become addicted for life if the person doesn't get away from him . Since it's cannon stated by the actor of the character himself , Vance has a horrible home life , and he also doesn't feel safe at school since institutions back then were even more indifferent to the students problems than now , so if a bad influence told him that there's way to forget the pain , he would believe them . Toxic masculinity would push him to smoke , drink and fight even he didn't want to because that's why tough guys do , even if Vance was just a lost kid that only wanted to play Pinball at the Grab n' Go . If this bad influence invites him to the drug world , he would be scared at first to take them , although he would never admit it , but after a few tries he would become a full time addicted and might end up running away from his house , school , maybe buying guns to get more money for all the vice that he thinks he needs . Unless this bad influence moves on from Vance or back stabs him , he would stick to them and their bad habits since nobody would say anything about it , because Pin Pall Vance Hopper is the toughest kid at school , and tough boys don't cry about needing more ecstasy on their bodies or loneliness , boys don't cry . At all .

Griffin Stagg would ...

Be stucked in a endless cycle of chasing the person around in hope to save them . This person wouldn't be able to convince this little guy from taking that path on his life but sure would make him believe every fake promise of changing habits and quitting stuff , the bad influence probably knowing well how lonely and easily attached he is , so they know that no matter what they do to their body , seal to others , buy or fight with , he would stick around because they are the closest thing that he has of a friend . He would try to help them over and over , chase them around when they're gone again and again , but it never ends , he can go years like this where there's gonna be a point where Griffin accepts it and just waits for the person to come and being taken care of . Unless the bad influence moves on , he would stay by their side forever .

[angelbitezzz]

Don’t feel bad! You’re not obliged to have anon on! :0

Also, idk if it’ll let you answer this ask, but if so… I’ll take one of each, if that’s ok!!

💕👋⚖️⭐️⚫️❓

(If not then just whichever you’d like to share!)

Okay warning, this is way longer than I thought it would be! So I'm putting my answers under the cut here

For the 💕, I think this one [It Takes Two] works (ik in the source material its a song between sisters, but i read it differently for crossbones and starstruck. It's definitely a bit more high-energy and peppy than either of them actually are, but I see it more like the romantic dynamic between their heroic personas. It's all geared up to eleven--both of them have to act differently in costume.

For 👋, I like Hummingbird. The song is mostly just vibes but there's definitely lyrical significance for some aspects of their relationship, y'know? Plus, the whole scene that the song is from in Across the Spiderverse is two superheros taking time away just to spend it with eachother. Kinda perfect?

For ⚖️, Sunlight by Hozier definitely feels right. It's a sweet song, and there's significance in someone who's never known the sun ascribing it to someone in their life. Just saying :3

It is. SO HARD to find a good song for ⭐️. Maybe I should make a playlist...what do you guys think?

Anyways, Tarantula by Gorillaz. It's one of their sweeter songs, and it's about like...well, not settling for someone? More like choosing eachother even with the shit in either of their lives? Thats how i see it

Oof, I already posted a rather angsty one with another ask. For ⚫️, I think This December by Ricky Montgomery is a good one--though I almost considered another song from the same album, Snow. There's conflict, y'know, if internal--how do you separate someone you care for from someone who's sacrifice would mean so much to everyone you know? Morally, Sans is an interesting character (I'm talking largely of his Undertale iteration, but since ts underswap tries to keep things relatively unchanged in regards to personality, he also counts) because while he is someone who I'd consider a good person, he's the same guy who more than likely would've attacked frisk on sight if he wasn't such a loyal character. There's love here. There's also the persistent, nagging knowledge of what needs to be done.

And finally, ❓. For the miscellanious song, we have Stars In the Sky by Kid Cudi for the second Sonic thr Hedgehog movie. I know it's a little silly, but lyrically I consider it a fantastic song for Crossbones and Starstruck! Angel is no stranger to the villain that is being mentally ill, and being separated from everyone she knew and essentially becoming the local semi-homeless human in a place that, while very silly and kind, is still hostile to her sucks. Doing the superhero gig--or rather, participating in the saturday morning cartoon gimmicks as either Starstruck or Koffin K's Spooky Servant is a good distraction. She likes it, and she likes getting to spend time with Sans like that. In a way the Starlight Isles are something of an escape for her, a dream-like forest suspended in eternal twilight where she gets to play the hero or the villain on a whim, with no real consequences. For now.

AAAAND that's it! I actually...did not expect to write so much. For your trouble, here is a drawing of the goobers.

[razorblade180]

Tea? Venting? I don’t know

Ya know it’s kinda crazy I can still find people who absolutely can’t forgive Jaune for trying to court Weiss a few times but yet these same people recognize that Weiss and Blake are no longer a racist and a terrorist respectively.

Like I would understand if he was unhealthily obsessive, Weiss was genuinely pissed about the experience or actually told him directly to stop doing what he’s doing because it bothers her, but she truly couldn’t care less at the time and chalked it up to a boy after her name.

Canonically speaking, he flirted with her the first day, asked if she wanted to hangout after school one time, and then asked if she would go to dance with him potentially. After that he saw her pursue someone else and he went about his life. Was he a little cringe? Absolutely. But he never devalued or disrespected Weiss for his own selfish reasons? Not once. He’s just a dude who genuinely liked a girl for reasons he explained and gave a few separate and respectful attempts that weren’t “date me” but scenarios to hangout and talk.

Also, nobody ever wants throw shade on their friends who kinda encourage him to try again, or at the very least not stop immediately because Weiss wasn’t actually bothered nor was Jaune legitimately going too far.

Now I know someone says “If someone says no to a hangout then clearly-” Listen, I get it, and I understand. Real world speaking, people should have that level of self awareness and respect to try once. However, the real world also has many people that have the mindset that courting should involve someone being persistent and playing hard to get must be done. It sucks. Can’t stand it, but also those people aren’t just going to go away. At best it’s a case by case basis were individuals know to be respectful and communicate.

Back to the fictional show though, I’ve also seen people comment “I can’t believe he never apologized.” Bruh, Weiss and Jaune save each other often and talk kindly to one another. Weiss has no ax to grind with him about their history so why do you? She’s not losing sleep over it. Honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if both of them missed the teenage drama of Beacon Days. Would it be nice if they had a conversation and he brought up how cringe he was towards her? Yeah it would be a sweet moment but also funny from Weiss’s perspective because she’s 100% self aware enough to know that him getting hung up on that flaw is so wild compared to thinking about her former flaws. I can totally see Weiss downplaying it for her own sake by going “Don’t worry about it. We both said and did some…embarrassing things back things back then.” As she tries not to think about how she drew Sun and called him a filthy faunus. 💀

In Summary, Weiss ain’t trippin about it, so why should you? They’re literally friends.

By the way, we don’t have a have single legitimate scene of Blake acknowledging to Yang that leaving without a word letter to give was really fucked up, and yet they’re fine and dating. If you can accept that unspoken apology, you can accept this.

[wonderswritings]

Starless Lovers {9}

Summary: They fell from the sky. We roamed the earth. We were always meant to clash. 

Warnings: The 100 Themes, Angst, Death, Blood, Unrequited Feelings, Slow Burn, Possibly more to come

Pairings: Lexa x Sister!Reader, Bellamy Blake x Fem!Reader (eventual)

War has always been brewing. With twelve clans, each with different ideals, it was always going to happen. But tensions rise when they come, the people from the sky. We watched from a distance, learning. But then they attacked, and if there's one thing all the clans can agree on,

Blood must have blood.

Starless Lovers Masterlist | Tags

The trig translator I was using no longer works, so I managed to find a new one but there’s a chance some words are still incorrect or even untranslated but I tried my best. 

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

“What if we’re wrong and cutting the power doesn’t disengage the locks?”

Lexa was laying down, her arms crossed over her chest as she responded to Clarke.

“Your people said it will.”

She opened her eyes, glancing over at where Clarke stood. 

“You should rest, Clarke.”

“We could blow the doors manually.”

Lexa huffed slightly as she stood, making her way towards Clarke.

“Plans don’t last very long in battle. Tiring yourself with questions already asked and answered is a waste of energy.”

Clarke turned, looking at Lexa.

“People died for this, Lexa. It has to work.”

“You’re doing what I did when I first took command.”

Lexa turned, walking towards the table with the water, pouring her a cup. 

“We can’t move forward and it’s giving you too much time to think. Once Bellamy shuts down the acid fog and the battle begins, everything will be clear.”

“What if he can’t? What if it was too dangerous and I sent him in there anyway?”

“You care about him.”

Clarke turned, clenching her jaw as she looked at Lexa.

“I care about all of them.”

“But you worry about him more.”

“I couldn’t have kept us alive all this time without him. We need him. And now I might be the one who gets him killed.”

Lexa walked forward, stopping in front of Clarke.

“That’s what it means to be a leader, Clarke. The truth is, we must look into the eyes of our warriors and say, ‘go die for me’.”

“If only it were that easy.”

Clarke turned back towards the table with the plans, huffing. 

“Can we please just get back to the plan?”

“No.” 

Clarke clenched her jaw, turning back towards Lexa.

“You could be a leader your people look to. Pour their hopes and dreams into. Someone they would fight and die for.”

“I never asked for that. I’m just trying to keep us alive.”

“You were born for this, Clarke. Same as me.”

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Bellamy held his card over the scanner, huffing when it didn’t work.

“Bellamy. Come in.”

“Yeah, I’m a little busy here Raven.”

Bellamy looked around, seeing another door that led to the emergency stairs, making his way to the door.

“You missed check in. Did you find the source of the acid fog yet?”

“I’m making my way there now. It’s taking longer than I thought.”

“I don’t know enough to crack it on this end. You gotta give me something.”

“I’m working on it.”

He tried his card again, slightly making a face when it flashed red.

“Something’s wrong.”

“What?”

“My key card isn’t working.”

“That’s not good.”

“I need to find another way in. I’ll call you back.”

“Stay right there.”

Bellamy turned, seeing two guards, their guns pointed at him.

“Hands in the air.”

Bellamy turned his head, taking a deep breath before he turned, running up the stairs.

“In pursuit of the target. It’s not Lovejoy. Repeat, it’s not Lovejoy.”

Bellamy’s hat fell as he ran up the second set of stairs, the alarms blaring as he ran down the platform. Cutting a corner he ran down the stairs, jumping a few at a time. Once he was at the bottom he stopped, looking up.

“Checking in. Go back down to the base level.”

One of the guards aimed his gun as he walked down the steps, Bellamy turning and running.

“You’re surrounded. There’s no way out!”

Bellamy ran down the hall, turning at a corner, looking around as he took a deep breath.

“Garza, do you have eyes on him?”

Bellamy grabbed the hand holding the gun as the guard walked by him, shoving it down as he punched the guard in the face. He punched him again as he dodged the guards attempt at hitting him, causing the guard to fall back, landing on the steps. Bellamy punched him again, knocking him out.

“Garza, what is your status?”

Bellamy checked the guards pockets, trying to find his key card.

“Garza do you copy?”

Once he found the key card he turned, grabbing the gun from the ground as he made his way to the door, scanning the card. He breathed a sigh of relief as it lit green, shoving the door open.

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Groaning, you slowly started to come to. The first thing you noticed as you came to was that you were laying down, your arms and legs weighed down with something, causing you to be unable to move. You turned your head to the side, making a face. You were in a room, but you didn’t recognize where you were. Medical supplies lined one side of the wall, various tools lining the other wall. You turned when the door opened, watching as two men walked in.

“Ah good, you’re awake.”

One of the men walked towards the medical supplies while the other walked towards you, stopping next to you and grinning down at you.

“Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Cage Wallace.”

He reached out, running his hand down the side of your face. You turned, opening your mouth and biting his hand. He jerked his hand back, lifting his other hand and slapping you. Your head slammed to the side upon impact, Cage slightly making a face as he shook his head, once again grabbing your face.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I know exactly who you are. Riheda, the dark commander. Interesting name.”

He glanced over at the man, letting your face go, nodding at him before he looked back down at you.

“The doctor has found something interesting within your blood. Tell me why that is.”

You said nothing, keeping your glare on him. 

“Answer me!”

He huffed, shaking his head as he lightly chuckled.

“You think your people are coming for you but they’re not. We know about your army.”

He tilted his head to the side, huffing slightly.

“Or rather, what’s left of it. You see, we bombed your little Tondc. Dropped a missile right on top of them. They’re dead. Every last one of them.”

You clenched your jaw as you fought against your restraints, causing Cage to laugh as he looked over at the doctor.

“Do what you must. I have some things to handle.”

The doctor nodded as he came into your line of sight, glancing down at you.

“We’ll be just fine here.”

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Indra made her way to the Commander’s tent, clenching her jaw, her mind clouded with worry as she opened the flap.

“Heda.”

She bowed her head, cutting a glare at Clarke when she saw her in the tent as well.

“Ai don news.” (I have news)

“I can-”

“Stay.”

Indra tightened her grip on her sword, huffing slightly as Clarke looked over at Lexa.

“I want you to stay, so stay.”

Lexa turned towards Indra, nodding.

“Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of Clarke.”

“We’ve looked everywhere, Heda, but there is no sign of Riheda.”

“Esmeray is missing? I thought-”

Lexa sighed, glancing at Clarke.

“I lied, earlier. Esmeray wasn’t avoiding the clan leaders in the woods. She never made it to Tondc.” 

Clarke turned towards Indra, shaking her head, her mind racing.

“Esmeray left before you did. You didn’t see anything out of the ordinary?”

Indra looked over at Clarke, glaring at her. 

“Did you? We took the same path, Clarke. We saw nothing.”

Clarke looked over at Lexa, nodding slightly. 

“I’ll radio Raven, have her let Bellamy know to be on the lookout in case it was the mountain men who took her.”

Indra scoffed, shaking her head.

“Who else would it be?”

Lexa shot Indra a look before she turned, nodding at Clarke.

“Thank you.”

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

“Come in, Raven. I made it. I hope you have a plan.”

“Still working on it. Give us something to go on. What do you see?”

Bellamy looked around, slightly shaking his head as he made his way downn the steps. 

“A huge steel vat. Looks like a submarine. Some other tanks with chemical formulas and warning labels. Bunch of pipes running into the wall. Monitor.”

“Oo, go to the monitor.”

Bellamy huffed slightly, walking towards the monitor.“Hello to you, too.”

“Don’t mind Wick. He’s not really helping.”

“Hey Bellamy. How’s my boy Monty doing?”

“Fine. but I don’t know for how long.”

“Great. Pleasantries over. Listen, if that monitor is a control panel, we can use it to kill this thing. Look for a pH scale.”

“Right. It has a scale, but the rest… uh, look can I just blow this thing?”

“No.”

“No, they’ll know their defenses are down. They’ll send a tech to fix it or reroute it or pull out some other weapon we don’t even know about.”

“Plus, you’d probably melt your face off.”

“Look, you know I like a good explosion, but we gotta think our way through this one. We can do this. Here we go.”

“Okay, uh level indicator.”

“Nope.”

“Do you see an actuator anywhere?”

Bellamy made a face, throwing his hand up.

“I have no idea what that is.”

“Come on, what else.”

“Internal pressure sensor.”

“No.”

“Uh, setpoint and alarm.”

“Let’s avoid that one.”

“Maintenance and cleaning.”

“Bellamy, go to that subdirectory. See if there’s anything there that says passivation.”

Bellamy nodded slightly, starting to filter through the monitor.

“Okay, I’m on it. Got it. Say us, aqueous sodium hydroxide bath.”

“That’s a base. That’ll neutralize the acid. Select that.”

“It’s doing something.”

“You should be able to hear the pump.”

“I can hear them. Needle’s moving. pH is rising.”

“It’s working.”

“Passivation successful.”

Bellamy grinned as the pumps cut off.

“Alright. Send a flare.”

“Roger that.”

Bellamy turned to leave when he saw something, causing him to make a face as he leaned forward, wiping the smudge off, seeing a pH scale. He turned back towards the monitor, looking between the two before he walked towards the monitor, seeing the pH scale was still the same as before. 

“Raven, we’ve got a problem.”

He made a face when she didn’t respond, shaking his head.

“Dammit, where are you? I don’t think the acid fog is down. Get word to Clarke. We have to stop the army. Raven!”

Bellamy watched as the pH scale was reset.

“No.”

He looked up when the alarms started to go off, hearing a banging on the doors.

“Oh, no, no, no.” 

He looked around, seeing the oxygen tank. He glanced down at the acetylene torch in his hand when they managed to kick the door open, causing Bellamy to turn and run.

“Go! Go! Move in, move in!”

“He’s armed, don’t be a hero.”

“Come on out, hands up!”

Bellamy took a few deep breaths before he ran, the men shooting at him as he dived into the vents.

“Cease fire! Don’t hit the tanks!”

Bellamy crawled as far as he could before he stopped, turning back towards the entrance, shooting both guns until he was out.

“He’s out. I’m going in.”

“Got it. I’ll check the tanks.”

Bellamy tossed the guns to the side as he turned, crawling away as fast as he could. When the tanks blew the vent shook, causing him to lose his balance before he started to crawl faster, the force of the flames pushing him out of the vent. He landed with a harsh ‘thud’ the flames shooting out as he ducked, covering his head. When the flames disappeared he turned onto his back, coughing as he laughed. 

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Your hair was matted with sweat and blood, the doctor having hit you after you tried to bite him. After that, he’d tied a cloth around your mouth, forcing you to open your mouth so he could place the waded part of it in your mouth to keep you from trying to bite him or from speaking, which you hadn’t done the entire time you’d been awake. You were tired, and everything hurt, but you refused to fall asleep, forcing yourself to stay awake even if everything was screaming at you to stop and let go. Your eyes began fluttering when the door slammed open, causing you to jump slightly as you opened your eyes, seeing a blurry figure rushing towards you. Slowly, the blurry figure came into focus, causing you to glare weakly as Cage grabbed your face, squeezing harshly.

“Where is he? Where is the intruder?”

He yanked you forward when you didn’t answer, screaming in your face.

“Where is he?!”

“Sir, please! Do not move her too much, or you’ll interfere with my studies! She must remain still!”

Cage turned his head, glaring at the doctor before he scoffed, letting you go, causing you to fall back onto the table with a groan. Cage leaned back, standing to his full height as he took a deep breath, looking down at you.

“Where is he?”

You said nothing, causing Cage to turn and walk towards the guard that came in with him. You couldn’t see what he was doing, but he walked back towards you, placing the cold metal of the gun at your forehead, pushing it so it dug into your skin.

“Where. Is. He?”

“Sir, please! If you kill her, she’ll be of no use to us! Her blood is the key! We no longer need the kids! Her blood will lead us all to the ground again!”

Cage glared down at you, clenching his jaw before he stepped back, his chest heaving as he looked over at the doctor.

“Prepare her for transport. This location has been compromised.”

Cage turned towards the guard, handing him back his gun.

“Send a group to help move the doctor and the grounder. The rest of you will find those kids, and you will kill them.”

“Yes sir.”

Cage looked back at you as the doctor fluttered around you, grinning slightly.

“We can still win the war.”

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Four months later and I've finally managed to update! Thank you all for being so patient with me! I hope to have the miniseries for this series posted soon-ish. The next chapter will be when Bellamy and Esmeray 'officially' meet!

Starless Lovers Tags: @kloy344  @bxnnywatts @kibumslatina @smol-book-nerd @newbooksmell777 @bamboozledbooks

Everything Tags: @jedi-dreea  @sammysgirl1997 @scarlett-witchhh @cevans-winchester @rafecameronswhore @jennmurawski13-writes 

The 100 Tags: @3leni  @topazy  @vxidnik  @kloy344 @lexajaye  @dani5216 @kelseyd07  @bxnnywatts @thebookisbtr  @kibumslatina @cryinghotmess @smol-book-nerd @mariaenchanted  @rafecameronswhore  @multi-fandom-lover7667 

Lexa Tags: @kloy344  @wonielover @bamboozledbooks @rafecameronswhore

Bellamy Blake Tags: @topazy  @vxidnik  @hftff-lol  @lexajaye  @dani5216  @im-sidney  @kelseyd07  @wonielover  @bxnnywatts @daisy-the-quake  @mariaenchanted  @bamboozledbooks @rafecameronswhore  @multi-fandom-lover7667

[roses-r-rosie3]

Never Stop Me

Harlan Briggs x M!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs, kind of angsty/fluffy

Summary: y/n and Harlan did not to like each other but that changes while they are being questioned

Y/n and Harlan were polar opposites. Harlan was a fuck boy who ‘doesn’t do relationships’. Y/n on the other hand was a very loyal person and was nice to anyone he met, except one person, Harlan. Y/n didn’t really like Harlan because Harlan hooked up with y/n’s boyfriend. But besides that y/n had a crush on Harlan. He didn’t know why, but he did.

Y/n started noticing things change about him. Y/n was outside one day. He was walking through the park when he heard someone tell him to duck. Little did he know a football was flying towards him. But his reflexes made him catch it. Y/n thought that it was just a dumb luck that he caught the football in time. But when y/n got home, he was setting up a new shelf that he just bought. Apparently y/n built it loosely because the second he left it, he felt his reflexes making him move before he could get injured by the things.

Later in the night y/n felt something calling him. He couldn’t stop himself, he put on his jacket as he started to run out of his room. “Y/n where are you going in such a rush?” Said his parents, but y/n didn’t respond he just kept running. It led him to a dead forest. He later saw Luna, Blake, Everett, and Harlan arrive there to.

They start talking about how they are pack and all that

“Are you kidding me? That whiny bitch is apart of our pack” said Harlan. “I’m sorry are you talking about me?” Said y/n. “Yes and what about it” said Harlan getting closer to y/n’s face. “Last time I checked you slept with my fucking boyfriend? If anything you’re the whiny one! You’re always arguing about finding you’re fucking dad!” Said y/n. Harlan didn’t really take that lightly as he tried to punch y/n but again y/n’s reflexes helped him avoid the punch.

“Don’t fucking talk about my dad like that!” Said Harlan as Luna had to hold her brother back while Blake and Everett held y/n back. All of a sudden Blake said she had to go as she ran away from the fight. “Blake!” Said Everett as he ran after her. Y/n just rolled his eyes as him, Luna, and Harlan chased after them. They ran into Prisha as she instructed them to go home.

Nothing else really happened after that. But all of a sudden the cops knocked on y/n’s door to take him and the rest of them for questioning for why him and the rest of the group were at the forest. They all say at a chair. Y/n was the last one there forcing him to sit next to Harlan. They started to discuss what to say. They decided on telling the cops they were smoking weed. Before they went to go get questioned y/n felt bad for what he said to Harlan so he pulled Harlan aside to talk for a bit.

“Y/n I swear to god if you say something else I’m going to-” Harlan was cut off by y/n. “I didn’t pull you aside to start another argument, I just wanted to say sorry, I felt bad for what I said to you back there, about you’re dad, how is he by the way?” Said y/n sincerely. “He’s going to be fine, besides why do you even care” said Harlan. “I’m just here to say sorry okay? That’s all” said y/n. Harlan knew y/n was lying by the way his heart was beating. “Cut the shit y/n tell me what else you wanted to tell me” said Harlan. “Fine, I kind of like you okay? I know you slept with my boyfriend and all that but I like you, I don’t know why but-” y/n was cut off by Harlan’s pulling him in for a kiss.

“Well I definitely wasn’t expecting that” said y/n who was a little shocked. “Well I actually like you too, and maybe we could go out some day” said Harlan. “I thought dates weren’t your thing” said y/n. “Yeah, but I’ll make you an acceptation” said Harlan. “Harlan, y/n they called us for questioning” said Luna.

Luna saw y/n and Harlan talking and decided to tease her brother before they were questioned. “So you and y/n are like a thing now huh? Or is he just another one of your hookups” said Luna. “Oh shut up” said Harlan rolling his eyes.

A/n: idk how I feel about this but I wanted my first story about Harlan not to be smut so maybe the next Harlan story will be a bit of smut ;)

[akookminsupporter]

I’m just curious now: was he not invited to the met or was he invited and just decided not to attend because he wouldn’t be comfortable or something? Like he has the deal with Dior and Tiffany, both brands that were part of the Met (with Dua and Pattinson for example), and he also has done some work with vogue recently so I wouldn’t imagine why they (the people in charge of the guest list) wouldn’t want him there. Without mentioning he is part of the most famous musical group/act of the moment. Not mad that he didn’t go just curious I guess.

Anon, have you ever heard or read about Anna Wintour and how she handles everything about the Met Gala? I can't give you a concrete answer because I don't work for BigHit or Jimin and well, you probably don't expect a concrete answer, but I'm going to give you several possibilities.

If you read a little about who Anna Wintour is, you'll know that she won't care about all the things you mentioned, if she doesn't want to. It doesn't matter if Dior or Tiffany bought a table for the event, they have to tell Anna who will sit at that table and if she doesn't want someone there, they won't be there. It doesn't matter who it is. Of course, it's easy to assume that she wouldn't say no to Jimin, even tiktok influencers have been invited! Obviously, she wouldn't say no to Jimin, one of the members of the most important music group in recent times. This brings me to another theory.

Although Jimin is the ambassador for Dior and Tiffany, that doesn't mean he has to be at every fashion-related event where one of those two brands will attend or participate in any way. We don't know what kind of contracts they sign with those brands, but one thing we can be sure of is that it's not one of exclusivity. We have seen Jimin wearing brands other than Dior and Tiffany after it was announced that he would be working with them. Jimin travelled to the USA wearing a T-shirt designed by the vice president of CK, for example. Jimin travelled wearing Tiffany pieces, he travelled mainly for something related to the brand and he did it, we don't know what else he has been doing in New York, but I think we can conclude that the Met Gala was never on his agenda, the reason obviously we don't know.

Another possibility or explanation I can think of is that bts is an exclusive brand and part of its exclusivity is because it is rare. BTS has never been known for attending absolutely everything, that's why when they or some of them go to a public event, it's a novelty. Their exclusivity means that people have to yearn, to dream of seeing them somewhere, not take it for granted that they will be there. It's something that happens with Beyoncé, for example, she doesn't attend all the events that other celebrities do and when she does it's a novelty. Everything stops because Beyoncé came. Everyone was speculating that she was going to the Met and she didn't. Something like that happens with bts. If you remember even in Korea it's not expected of bts or one of their members to attend anything. Whether it's a variety show or a movie premiere and when they do it's big news. That's because bts didn't participate in everything, didn't accept invitations to everything and therefore gained a reputation for exclusivity. A reputation that over time has become more valuable.

Many might say that the Met Gala is an important event, and it is, but that doesn't mean anything when you're on the level of Beyoncé and Jimin.

Something to also keep in mind is that it was never confirmed that Jimin would attend the Met Gala. The rumour started on social media. Many fans longed for him to attend that event and others believed those Twitter accounts that swear they have information on the boys' next moves. Some publications later mentioned his name because that was rumoured on social media. Because he's in New York and it made sense to think he would attend, but those posts also said Beyoncé would be there, Lady Gaga would be there, Blake Lively would be there and all of that turned out to be false.

[itsclydebitches]

it genuinely surprises me that CRWBY wants to push this idea that the bees have been planned for ten years (idk if you're on twitter but yang's VA responded to someone who said 'wow this was planned for the past two years?' and she said '2? try 10' and an animator said something similar in another thread), because at least if they owned up about how they hadn't actually decided to do anything with the bees officially until fairly late in the game, they wouldn't basically be saying 'yeah we had this planned, we just never bothered to write anything confirming or alleging it for years because reasons'

it's just infuriating bc like you said, the straight relationships are not treated this way. pyrrha's crush on jaune, jaune's crush on weiss, and weiss' crush on neptune in the early volumes are all entirely unambiguous, despite none of them looking at the camera and spelling it out in dialogue. nora and ren's relationship is likewise unambiguous, or at the very least nora's interest in ren (leaving ren's feelings to take longer in the story to really be given form).

and EVEN IF we accept that they didn't want blake and yang to be aware of their own feelings for whatever reason (even if that's shoddily hamfisted in the narrative--they don't have any of the conversations they should have had post volume 6 to work through their feelings, leaving the confession in this limbo where it's simultaneously forced by the narrative and yet also like 'uh, duh? why are they so worried about confessing? what obstacles remain in their path that weren't clearly deemed unimportant by the fact that the story never cared to linger there?') there's zero excuse for the story not choosing to unambiguously confirm their sexualities.

blake could have had a conversation with ilia where she made it clear that she didn't return her feelings because her own lay elsewhere, not because she doesn't like girls (which would go a ways to alleviate some of the uncomfortable framing of ilia being the psychotic lesbian in love with her straight best friend and trying to kill her about it). yang could have had a brief crush on a girl in their beacon days, or talked about past relationships, etc. there's no reason for blake to be the first and only person yang ever shows true interest in, especially since blake has an unambiguous romantic history (with adam and also with sun).

especially since this is a world where, ostensibly, homophobia doesn't exist. (at least according to word of god) it's also not like this was a network television cartoon where they had to worry about BS&P or sneaking things past the censors! there were no censors to worry about! so if this was being planned for an entire decade, why doesn't it show?

I'm not on twitter, but I did see those tweets when they made their way over here. For the record, I personally don't believe it. I hate saying that because I'm not someone who enjoys accusing someone else of lying, but as you've established above, there is nothing in the story to imply that this was a decade long endeavor. I mean that quite literally. Yang eyeing the shirtless guys, Blake's entire romance-coded arc with Sun, the rejection of Ilia, Adam framed as a potential ex, Yang never once showing an interest in other girls, the lack of explanation for why they won't confess (AKA an established, long-term arc about one or both of them discovering their sexuality, coming out, overcoming homophobia, working through another relationship first, etc.)... The Blake/Yang subtext began late post-reunion - which isn't a bad thing! But why in the world would you pretend that it was in the works 5-6 years earlier?

I mean, we know one potential reason why. Right now, there's a lot of uncharitable conversation surrounding how the romance is being used to prop up a struggling show. So if you're hoping to draw in more viewers through your work's queer rep, it helps to present that rep as a celebratory achievement after a decade of work. It makes RT appear to have always been progressive and worthy of your time/money. There never was a fear of queerbaiting because this was planned from the get-go. There are no problems with the romance's writing because we knew this was the end goal from day one. No, no, pay no attention to how our queer employees are treated. Why would you doubt our allyship when we strove for a decade to bring you a queer main couple? Noooo, also please ignore that nothing was stopping us from giving you that in Volume One. Good romance has to be earned, remember.

My tone in the last paragraph heavily implies that I've made up my mind regarding why we'd get this narrative of the bee's development, but the reality is that I just don't know. Obviously. I'm not in the writer's room, I'm not in their heads, I will never be able to provide irrefutable proof either for or against that interpretation. But given how RWBY was written and given what RT has to gain from acting like this was always the end game (which is a lot), I think the most charitable reading (if not necessarily the most likely one) is that RT is subconsciously stretching the definition of "planned." Do I believe that they sat down at the start of Volume One, decided that Blake and Yang would be a couple, and then somehow spectacularly failed to write that story for the better part of a decade? No. Do I think it's possible that, given the nature of fandom, RT immediately picked up on the fact that people instantly shipped Blake and Yang (because they were partners, complimentary, if you've been in fandom for longer than five minutes you know that splitting the RW and the BY is easy picking), maybe joked about them and WhiteRose being a thing, spent a couple of years writing safe het romances while testing the waters, realized after 6-ish years that providing serious queer rep would prove more helpful than harmful to the show, stayed in the ambiguous 'Are they friends or something more?' stage to further cover their bases, and then at a time when the company was at its most vulnerable, give the fans exactly what they wanted, capitalizing on the gratitude by thinking back to those initial days of joke-y what-ifs and going, "Yeah! This has been in the works since the very start! That'll help get us renewed, right? ;)"?

...Yeah.

Honestly, a part of me doesn't care. Queer rep is queer rep, regardless of how it came about, and a few years from now the drama of it all will have begun to fad. From here on out, newcomers to RWBY will never have to deal with that potential queerbaiting. They'll start and end the show knowing that the rep exists and, likely, won't give a damn how it came about. But for those who do want to unpack that motivation, I'm personally of the belief that RT is stretching (at best) the definition of "planning" in an effort to make the company look as good as possible during this time. People are welcome to call me pessimistic and overly critical if they'd like, but I think it's important to keep in mind that RT is a company. They're not a bunch of home-bound fans writing simply for the joy of it. They're also not an individual, safely established author who can push the boundaries of their craft without fear of (much) repercussion. They're a company. Their job is to make money and though that doesn't preclude them from creating amazing art and taking great pride in their work, at the end of the day 99% of the writing decisions are based around what will bring in more viewers. I'd caution anyone to think critically about a saluting emoji and a very simplistic summary of - what we know having lived through it - was a very complicated situation.