#and this week my brother is house sitting

[sebastianstangirl01]

✧˖° Bring The Lion Out | Pogues & Rafe

pairing - the pogues x cameron!reader, rafe cameron x sister!reader

warnings - violence, language, attempted assault

summary - a fun day at the beach quickly took a turn when the the baby of the group gets cornered by a couple of kooks who don’t have good intentions. luckily she has her friends and siblings who will do anything to protect her.

authors note - i am going to be using the name audrey again for this fic, obviously this fic is not at all related to my last one about rafe. using audrey is just easier for me instead of y/n, mainly bc it is my name lol and i can just type it mindlessly. but obviously feel free to use whatever name you want and imagine the character anyway you want! her nickname is going to be baby, kinda like baby in dirty dancing, so that’s what most everyone is going to call her! i hope you all enjoy!!

requested - yes!

not proofread!!

✧˖°

summer in the obx was nothing less than magical. the weather was hot during the day, perfect for getting a nice tan, and cooler when the sun went down making thin blankets or sweatshirts your best friend.

audrey “baby” cameron has always loved summer. in the past she would spend her time surfing with her sister sarah or going on jet ski rides with her brother rafe. then sunset boat rides on the druthers with her family always ended the night.

but this year was different. ward was dead and rose took wheezie and disappeared off the face of the earth, not answering any of the many phone calls both sarah and audrey made. luckily she still had sarah and rafe, who miraculously made up and are closer than ever.

audrey has still had a hard time though, being pretty much shielded from all the drama that occurred over the past couple of years, she was blindsided by everything. for the first couple of weeks she had never felt more alone.

realizing that they had to step up for their little sister, rafe and sarah did everything they could to help her grieve the family they once had. the pogues had taken audrey under their wing as well, all of them always having a soft spot for the now 16 year old who had only been 13 when this all started.

sarah was still living with john b, but rafe had bought his own house on figure 8 after selling their family home, none of them wanted to live there anymore with the false memories of the fake family they had. audrey had moved in with him and rafe did his best to make sure it was perfect for her.

the biggest surprise to audrey was that rafe was actually pretty friendly with the pogues now, to the point that they all hang out together pretty frequently. which audrey is thankful for, especially because this meant he was spending less and less time with topper and kelce who she hates.

today was one of those days, the waves were supposed to be perfect and jj had challenged audrey to a surfing competition. so rafe threw the boards into the back of his truck and the brother and sister duo were on their way.

when they arrived at the beach it wasn’t very crowded, much to audrey’s delight, there were a few teenagers further down the beach but that was about it. sarah and the pogues pulled up right beside them and everyone got out, setting up their spot for the day.

“hope you’re ready, baby. those waves are calling my name.” jj teased the younger girl as he waxed his board

“no, i hope you’re ready. don’t want you to get embarrassed about getting beat by a 16 year old again.” audrey fired back making kie laugh and pat her shoulder

“you got it, baby.” kie ruffled her hair, ignoring the look of betrayal on her boyfriends face

“hey! you’re supposed to root for me!” jj pouted and kie just shrugged

“baby’s obviously the favorite.” john b said as he walked up behind audrey and wrapped his arm around her shoulder

“right, just how many years of friendship? right down the drain.” jj mumbled to himself

audrey smiled at his dramatics and walked over to sarah who was sitting in a lounge chair underneath the umbrella. the 16 year old carefully sat down on her lap and sarah chuckled shaking her head fondly and adjusting into a more comfortable position. sarah looped her arms around audrey’s waist and pulled her back against her chest.

“can i help you?” sarah twirled a strand of her sisters hair

“nope, you’re just comfy and i’m waiting for your husband to finish waxing my board.” audrey closed her eyes at the feeling of sarah playing with her hair like she used to do when they were kids

“almost done, jeez!” john b called and the girls giggled

“how are you feeling?” audrey asked and sarah smiled using her other hand to gently rub her slightly swollen belly

“i don’t have morning sickness anymore, so i feel great.” sarah sighed heavily luckily at 20 weeks the worst of her morning sickness had passed

“i still think the baby should be named after me, audrey jr is perfect. we can call her aj for short.” audrey wiggled her brows

“hey, we still don’t know if it’s a boy or girl.” sarah reminded her and audrey just shook her head

“it’s a girl, i just know it.” audrey smiled

sarah just smiled fondly at her sister and began to quickly braid her long hair so it wouldn’t be in her face while she was surfing. at some point kie and pope had flopped down beside them under the umbrella, pulling out the snacks and drinks they had packed for the day.

cleo was standing with jj and john b, criticizing the way they handled the boards. and rafe had gone back to his truck to grab his own chair and the bag that had their towels and some sunscreen in it.

the weather was perfect today, a soft breeze cut through the humidity and the cloudless sky was a bright blue color. audrey found herself wishing that she could spend every day like this, sitting on a beach with her favorite people in good weather.

“boards ready for ya, baby!” john b walked over to them holding audrey’s board on his hip

“thanks, jb! last one in’s a rotten egg.” audrey jumped up taking her board before running towards the water

she laughed hearing jj curse and chase after her, the cool water made audrey tense for a moment before her body became used to the temperature and she paddled out.

kie, pope, and john b joined shortly after audrey and jj while cleo and sarah built a sandcastle and rafe sunbathed. the waves were perfect, just as they had predicted.

the group caught wave after wave, and eventually kie deemed audrey as the winner of her and jj’s little competition.

“no way!” jj complained flopping back onto his board

“sorry j but baby had ya beat.” kie patted his chest

“don’t be a sore loser bro.” pope chided him and jj scoffed

“i am no such thing!” jj held his chest in offense

“bullshit.” pope coughed making the others laugh

jj just narrowed his eyes before lurching forward and knocking pope off his board into the water. audrey laughed wiping the water that splashed onto her face from her eyes, while kie just shook her head at their childish behavior.

jj and pope popped their heads up out of the water and quickly knocked the remaining three off their boards making them join them in the water.

“not cool.” john b splashed jj, who was responsible for knocking him into the water

feeling her stomach grumble in hunger, audrey pulled herself back up onto her board. intending to swim back to shore and eat one of the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cleo brought.

“i’m heading in, i’m starved.” audrey announced and the group gave her a thumbs up

“i’ll come with ya, need to check on sarah.” john b said ignoring the whipping sounds pope and jj made

the duo paddled towards the shore, john b waving at a couple other surfers who recognized him. audrey huffed out of breath as she made it to the beach, struggling to prop her board on her hip.

“need some help?” an unrecognizable voice asked from her left

audrey lowered her board and saw 3 boys she didn’t recognize standing there, but from the looks of their ray-bans and vineyard vines swim trunks she knew they had to be kooks.

“uh, no thanks. i can manage.” audrey gave them a polite smile

“come on, that boards like twice your size. we don’t bite.” the same one said

“unless you want us to.” another one smirked

“really. i’m good.” audrey clenched her jaw becoming uncomfortable

as she went to walk away one of the guys grabbed her board, stopping her.

“hey, we’re trying to be nice here and help you out. the least you could do is not be a bitch about it and let us.” the first guy spoke again

“excuse me?” audrey gaped at him, shocked that anyone would talk to another person like that

“you heard him, so be a good girl and let us help ya out. maybe you can repay us tonight, we love to share.” the third guy said

feeling alarm bells ring in her head, audrey knew she needed to leave. she dropped her board and turned to walk away, but was stopped when a strong hand latched onto her arm and pulled her back into a chest roughly.

“where you going, huh?” the second guy asked

“let go of me!” audrey exclaimed, jamming her knee into his crotch making him curse and drop his hold on her

“fucking bitch!” the first guy scoffed, pulling her hair making audrey yelp

before anything else could happen, yelling was heard and suddenly audrey was ripped away and rafe tackled both remaining guys to the ground.

audrey fell to the sand and looked up to see rafe and john b ontop of two of them punching them in the face. the third guy tried to get up but was punched in the face by cleo sending him back to the ground.

“audrey!” sarah exclaimed dropping to the ground beside her sister and pulling her into her arms

the others made hurried onto the beach when they heard the commotion and pope and jj hurried to help john b and rafe while kie immediately ran to sarah and audrey who were now joined by cleo.

“hey, are you ok?” kie asked touching audrey’s knee

“yeah. i’m fine.” audrey winced and touched her head that was tender from where her hair was pulled

“jackasses.” sarah seethed rubbing her hand up and down audrey’s arm

it took both john b and jj to pull rafe off his guy, who’s nose was all bloody and most likely broken. the other two guys in similar shape.

“you so much as glance in my sisters direction again and i’ll fucking kill you.” rafe threatened and the three guys immediately ran away

the boys turned back to the girls and rafe knelt down in front of audrey, grabbing her hand and giving it a soft squeeze. his jaw clenched when he noticed the hand shaped bruise on her arm.

“are you ok?” rafe asked pinching her chin to get her attention

“yeah. just a little freaked out, but i’m ok.” audrey nodded

“well those sons of bitches won’t bother you anymore, baby. scared them so bad i’d be surprised if they ever show their faces again.” jj chuckled

“better not, or i’ll cut em.” cleo flipped open her knife making audrey smile

“no one messes with baby.” pope pushed cleo’s hand down

“damn straight.” john b nodded squeezing her shoulder

“thanks guys.” audrey smiled, feeling so incredibly lucky to have friends who care as much as hers do

“let’s not let them ruin our beach day, we have hours of daylight left.” kie said moving to stand

“yeah then tonight we can have a bonfire and roast marshmallows.” sarah smiled before looking at her little sister. “how’s that sound, baby?”

“sounds good to me.” audrey grinned

“good, now it’s time for lunch and you need to eat. i’ll get you some tylenol too for your head.” rafe grabbed audrey’s hands and pulled her to her feet before wrapping his arm around her

audrey chuckled at his care, which was a stark contrast to the way he was a couple of years ago. the group headed back over to their spot and continued with their beach day.

they ended the night back at rafe and audrey’s house, utilizing the large patio with a fire pit and comfortable chairs placed all around it. as audrey held her marshmallow over the fire, she looked around and realized just how lucky she is to have these people in her life.

to have people who care and will always be there for you.

[we-stan-the-stans-27]

Sleeping Beauty AU?

@sixerstanley Here had this HUGE big brain idea and I immediately sprung into action to write a little something about it.

Basically, they read a merlin fic where a spell made it seem like Merlin was dead, but he was basically asleep and aware of everything going on. Arthur was not having a good time. (trauma and pain ensues) I'm going to replicate it, based on the idea alone.

(Also, I had no idea this would turn into an almost 4k oneshot, oops! Color me inspired, I guess! I can do this, but not my actual fan fiction. LMAO!)

Suffer with me. (JK, enjoy. XD )

For the first time in weeks, Ford had allowed himself a full night's rest downstairs. Why not reward himself, just this once? The rift is sealed, the universe is safe, and things are slowly getting back to normal. Or as normal as they get in the pathetic excuse for what used to be his home.

Ford still has a hard time calling it what it is, 'The Mystery Shack' is a little on the nose, isn't it? The exhibits are hardly anything close to a mystery. They're botched taxidermy projects.

Insults. That's what they are.

A slap in the face to his life's work.

Whatever, that's not his problem right now. Coffee is the first order of business.

It's early and no one else is awake, but the coffee pot is still hot with a fresh pot. One cup appears to be missing. Stanley must be awake then.

Ford takes his time pouring the life-bringing liquid into his favorite cup (it is amazing Stanley didn't break it or lose it after all these years) and adding in ample sugar, and a dash of cream for color.

He adds a single ice cube to cool it faster, listening to the sounds of the house. It's silent, too quiet.

Ford can't help that even in a peaceful environment it puts him on edge.

The TV is off and a walk through the living room reveals Stanley isn't sitting on the couch. The first-floor bathroom light is off, door is slightly ajar, but empty.

That's weird.

He really shouldn't be looking for his brother anyway since the only good that will do is start another fight. It's too early for that.

Ford settles back in the kitchen, hovering near the window and sipping his cup watching the clock on the wall tic on. Minutes pass.

The silence is no longer just putting him on edge, it's sounding alarms.

Why? There is nothing dangerous here in the house, they are perfectly safe here now that Bill has been dealt with.

What then?

To put his own stupid mind to rest he leaves the empty cup in the sink and goes upstairs to the attic, checking on Dipper and Mabel.

They are both still fast asleep in their beds. Dipper, drooling on his pillow with half the blanket on the floor. Mabel, hair stuck up in all directions, clutching one of her many stuffed animals like it might try to escape.

Waddles is here too, curled up on its makeshift bed on the floor.

He stays just long enough to ensure they are all breathing, and sleeping soundly, before noiselessly going back downstairs.

The second floor is as empty as the first, including Stanley's poor excuse for a room. It is a mess of half-packed boxes, several trash bags, and the always-unmade bed.

Soon enough the house will be normal again.

Stanley will be gone, the kids will go home- (Perhaps they'll visit again next summer? It's a shame Dipper can't stay) and the Mystery Shack business will be over forever.

This once secluded corner of the valley will be that way again, his haven away from prying eyes. And tourists.

With the interior of the house cleared that only leaves the yard and porch.

Ford makes his way out onto the one Stanley finds the most use out of and the worry he hadn't realized to be carrying vanishes. There he is, sitting back dead asleep on the disgusting couch. How old is that thing? It appears to be growing several kinds of mold along the bottom because of the constant rain this region gets.

One hand is barely holding onto Stan's coffee cup, the arm of the couch holding it up while its owner sleeps.

"Seriously, Stanley? Being old doesn't give you an excuse to sleep anywhere, much less flash the local wildlife in little more than boxers." It's a good dig, in his opinion, and he speaks loud enough to rouse Stanley despite how hard of hearing he has become over the years.

Except no quick response comes.

Stanley doesn't so much as twitch in his spot on the couch.

The fear comes back-

Oh, don't be ridiculous!

"Very funny, Stanley." He lets the door close, quietly, before moving to stand in front of his brother, hands on either hip.

He looks, really looks, at Stan.

And sees nothing good.

The first notable, and most concerning finding, is that his brother isn't breathing. He waits, watching, assuming this to be a breath hold.

A joke.

But that isn't the only concerning evidence. Stanley's eyes are also halfway open, looking over the yard. Empty.

Not funny anymore, very much NOT funny!

Ford does not panic, not yet. He moves and picks up the cup, plucking it out of his brother's hand- It lacks any strength, like taking a toy from a child.

"Stanley? Wake up. Very good joke, you got me. Stop it now." He kneels on the couch, next to him, after setting the cup aside on the porch by their feet.

For the second time since coming home, Ford touches Stanley. This time with a kinder hold, reaching up to press two fingers along the pulse point between the jaw and collar bone, off to the side of the Adam's apple.

Nothing.

'One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten-'

He could count on one hand the number of times true panic has overtaken him in his lifetime. It isn't a luxury one can often afford when coming face to face with death constantly in the multiverse-

But what harm can come of it when someone is already dead?

His hand stays right where it is, tucked into the still-warm skin-

"No, this isn't funny-" But Ford's voice shakes and he snatches the hand away quickly. If he can't feel the lack of pulse, it's not there. Simple.

How didn't he notice? When did this happen?

What happened?

No- Ford turns, looking around the peaceful yard. Dew covers the grass, the sun peaked up about half an hour ago basking the clearing in pink and yellow hues.

There isn't any blood.

Death is messy. He has seen it countless times, but it is never, ever, peaceful. Knives, guns, cracking bones, broken bodies...

Looking back at Stanley none of that is present. The skin is still pink, and warm, eyes open but- Dead.

No. That can't be. It just can't.

Stanley looks almost peaceful, asleep. His coffee, barely a sip or two taken from the looks of it. "No."

Panic takes many different forms. Initially, instinctively, Ford looked for the cause. It had to be someone, something, who did this. Who took his brother?

But there is nothing, no one, in sight. No blood.

"Stanley, who-" His feet stop, body stalling, in the middle of turning back from the yard to look at the corpse...

He had been about to ask, to question who did this. But a dead body can't answer. A dead body, a corpse.

There is a distinction between a vessel and a person, or so Ford had always thought.

Everyone dies and until then you live inside and pilot your body. Someday, it becomes a corpse and you leave it behind.

That is such a cold and callous way to look at it, in retrospect. Because this, is Stanley. He's just- Gone.

With quick hands, Ford begins looking, almost in a frenzy, for the cause.

No blunt force trauma to the back of the head. No perforations to the abdomen, arms, nothing. There is nothing.

But that's not possible, people don't just-

Except they do. Sometimes-

No. NO! Not them, not him! Stanley Pines wouldn't just die, not without a fight!

Death doesn't play favorites, anyone can go, anytime-

"Shut up! No, he wouldn't! He wouldn't leave me!" It comes out in a shout and shakes him.

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

He never allowed himself to think very far into the future, how could he? Everything was always changing and it was better to live in the now anyway. So long as you were safe now, other things could be handled later-

Except later doesn't always wait for you to be ready. Time has its own plans and you have to work around it or something-

Stanley wasn't supposed to die. Isn't! he can't be-

Except-

There are no obvious injuries, but then again there don't have to be. They may not be old, but they're old enough. Brain aneurysms take hold suddenly, killing the affected almost instantly.

Leaving barely enough time to set down a cup of coffee-

Or a heart attack?

No, Stanley would have come inside, asked for help-

Wouldn't he?

"You idiot!" It comes out in a hiss from where Ford has shifted. He's kneeling right next to Stanley, hand on either shoulder, looking at his half-open but- Dead. Dead eyes. Empty. Gone.

Soulless.

Ford isn't sure who he's talking to. Himself? or Stanley? Both?

"I would have helped you, we could have called someone, I-" He has to pull away, sinking down into the empty space of the couch to hide the tears springing up without permission.

This can't be happening. Things weren't supposed to end like this-

Oh yeah, how was it supposed to go then?

With you, kicking him out next week? Leaving him homeless, again, just like Pa?

"Stop it! I don't know, not like this!" Stanley was always the stronger between them, persevering through everything no matter what happened.

Is this my fault?

What a stupid question.

It forces him to sit up again, one hand covering his face while half peering out at Stanley.

Of course it is. What did you expect? That he would take his life being uprooted lying down?

Did he do this on purpose?

In the rush to pick up the cup of coffee Ford almost knocks it over but finds he can't hold it without spilling some of it over the sides, down onto the porch, anyway. He is left with no choice but to set it back down to avoid wasting the sample.

Maybe.

Ford takes both a physical and mental step back, leaning against one of the columns holding up the roof over the porch, to look around.

Breathing is getting a little more difficult, coming in tight short inhales and smaller and smaller exhales.

What better way to get back at me? Thirty years of a life spent learning math, science, and engineering skills well beyond any normal human's comprehension, for what?

To get a brother back who first chance he got told him to pack it up and get out?

"What kind of brother am I?"

The kind who would rather be right than-

Then apologize. Forgive. Make up. Let go.

And now, it's too late. The train left the station, Stanley is gone, and its all my fault.

"He died thinking I hated him." That realization is what breaks the decade-old dam, tears finally escaping. Ford closes the distance, sitting on the stupid couch and pulling Stanley over into a hug, even if he's not here to feel it.

The lack of strong, still buff, arms encircling him, returning the sentiment only makes him cry harder into the thin and crappy tank top Stanley must have worn to bed.

"I'm sorry." He chokes out between sobs, "I thought I'd have more time, you'd have more time. I didn't think- How could I?" Nothing he's saying is making much sense.

The ramblings of a heartbroken lunatic.

As if we really deserve to be upset, like you'd of cared if it wasn't life or death-

Maybe his own thoughts are right. If Stanley had been alive, sitting here, having his morning coffee they would have traded morning insults before going their separate ways.

But that's not the reality they live in. This one is much worse, much darker.

I spent so much time running away, trying to break apart, and be unique. No longer part of a broken pair, or what I saw as one, I-

"I never expected to miss it when the other half was gone." He is still shaking, refusing to let go, with thoughts still scrambled in a million different directions.

CPR wouldn't do any good now, although it's a nice thought. If Stanley came out here directly after preparing his coffee then that was almost twenty minutes ago, give or take-

Oh god. What about the kids?

Without letting go Ford checks the time on his watch, wincing. A few hours at most, but he'll have to call the coroner-

What does he do?

For the first time, possibly ever, Ford feels lost.

Not only because his twin is currently dead, which is already world-ending, but everything that comes with it.

Who does he say the corpse belongs to? Stanley Pines has been dead for decades-

Is that why he did this? So that Ford could slot right back into his old life, fixing the broken and shattered history? No. This had to be an accident-

Only the testing of the coffee will confirm it or not.

Ford has never had to stick around and deal with a dead body before. Moving on was easier, and necessary. He can't remember attending a funeral, other than their great aunts when they were barely seven.

That's not the same. He'll have to make arrangements, put together pictures, and give a speech-

About a life he knows nothing about.

"God, I'm sorry Stanley. I'm so sorry." It feels safe to let his voice break here. No one is around to see how completely destroyed he feels. "All you ever did was love me, and I pushed you away. I crushed it, refused, and now..."

"Now you're gone. I can't even remember the last time I told you that I love you, but I do. So much, more than I could ever handle." Ford can't let go, but he does shift back to look at his brother's face, holding his limp body with one hand and clearing his own tears with the other.

"For what it's worth, I'm glad I'm here. Thank you, for bringing me back." He has to close his eyes, fresh tear tracks spilling across both cheeks, "Even if only so I could say goodbye. I'm glad I got that, at least. If only you were here-"

With a broken voice, Ford can't stand looking at Stan like this anymore. He reaches up, closing both eyes with feather-light fingers, before leaning close to press them forehead to forehead. Just like when they were young. Before everything.

It's odd. How fast do corpses cool? Not that Ford is going to complain. It lets him pretend, just for a few more moments, that Stanley isn't gone. That they could have this again.

Too little, too late.

"I love you, Stanley." It comes out broken and cruel, like the universe is mocking him. What was the point in protecting them from Bill if death came knocking anyway?

For the first time since coming home, Ford understands.

Finally, he can see why Stanley wasted so much of his life trying to bring him back. Because he loves so much, so big. To his own detriment.

He would do anything, even destroy the world, to have Ford by his side again.

"I'm so sorry, you deserved so much better." How different could things of been?

What would Stanley of done instead? Gotten married? Had kids?

A better family, that's for sure.

Ford knows he can't stay here forever. He needs to let go, head inside, and make some phone calls. To tell Soos to close the shack for the day, get an ambulance to bring Stanley to the morgue.

He needs to prepare for when the kids wake up and figure out what to tell them.

But first, he indulges himself a little bit more by leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Stanley's lips. It smells of coffee, cigars, and denture cream, but Ford can't detect any sort of drug or chemical from close proximity alone. It's nice.

Not what you'd expect from a corpse, but it's enough.

A goodbye, a real one in a weird broken way. Just their luck.

The absolute last thing Ford expects, upon starting to pull away, is to feel the body still pressed very tight to his own take in a very deep breath followed by Stanley's discarded hands coming up to grab at him.

"Stanley!" His voice is still broken, mixed with anger and joy in a typhoon of confusion.

And Stanley? He has the nerve to laugh!

"Don't think you're walking away from that so easily!" No longer locked inside his own body without the ability to do anything it's a relief to be able to breathe. But even better, he can pull Ford over on top of his lap, locking one leg in place against the side of the couch.

"Excuse me! I thought you were dead! What the fuck, Stanley! You can't just go around pretending to be dead to mess with people! What if the kids had found you, or Soos, or Wendy?! You would have scared them half to death, you scared me half to death!"

Truly, it's a complicated story. One Stan is pretty sure Ford doesn't want to hear right now when his mind is running a mile a minute.

He has other things that need to be said instead of explaining whoever that weird wizard was who came out of the forest.

Forcibly Stanley grabs Ford's face, bringing him down so they are face to face again, leaving no room for argument in their close proximity. "Shut up, will you?"

Being locked in was sort of a blessing because participating in the conversation is so much harder than he thought it would be moments ago. He steals his nerves anyway, "I love you too, I'm not dead, and I'm pretty sure forty years should have made you a better kisser than that. Otherwise, I've got my work cut out for me. Try again."

By now Ford's face is bright red both out of anger at being tricked and embarrassment at their current position. But Stanley's hands are no longer weak, holding him tightly in place. Not that he seriously wants to argue anyway.

Stan waits, but the longer Ford stares, the more unsure he becomes. Maybe he misunderstood? Or maybe Ford just has a thing for corpses and now that he isn't one, the interest is gone.

Fair enough, Stan knows he isn't much to look at. Age wasn't as kind to him as it was to Ford. All lean muscles, few wrinkles, and barely greying hair. It's stupid, really.

It would be hypocritical to go right back to being mad, wouldn't it?

Just because Stanley isn't dead now, doesn't mean he won't be next time. Or the time after that.

Anything could happen.

Ford knows he should pull away. They should talk about what the hell just happened. He should move off his brother's damn lap!

Or, he could give in to the very thing he's spent two-thirds of their lives running from. The details and tough conversation can be hashed out later, right?

It's the hold on his jaw loosening that yanks Ford out of his spinning thoughts back to the present. Stanley is pulling away, looking down-

How long was he lost in thought? It couldn't have been more than twenty seconds. Did he change his mind? No, then why does he look so-

Well. Stanley looks the same as he always does.

Oh. Briefly, for a few seconds, Stanley was being brave. He opened up and showed his hand. Let himself be vulnerable.

Idiot!

His hands had never fully left Stan's shoulders, but he tightens their grip now, shifting one up to cup along the underside of his jaw. He doesn't feel the need to say anything, because neither of them has ever really been good with words.

He leans down, surprising them both, with a much more insistent kiss.

A hello. And maybe? A new beginning.

[made-my-peace-with-all-the-bad]

My arm has been twisted and I now offer the people of tumblr my 1800 word Darry yap:

Thinking about Darry and his parents. More specifically, Darry and his dad. How they must’ve been so close. How Darry loved both of his parents to the moon and back, but he just had a special bond with his dad. He knew he could always rely on him, so since he was three, he’s always wanted his dad. If he woke up from a nightmare, if he was sick, if he fell and scraped his knee, he always wanted his dad. How he felt so guilty about that for a while. It wasn’t until he was eight and realized that Soda was always reaching for their mama that he started to feel a little better. He felt like it was ok that he reached for their dad when his brothers reached for their mom.

How Darry grew up carrying so much pride in the fact that his father gave him his name. He loved that a piece of his dad was always with him. He also knew how proud his dad was of him. How he knew Darry would do some much in his life. He saw the way his father’s face filled with joy when Darry showed him his first football jersey with the name Curtis on the back. He remembers opening up a college acceptance letter and scholarship and immediately running to his dad. How Darry had handed him the letter and his father’s eyes had filled with tears. How that was the first time Darry saw his dad cry. He remembers how his dad had put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him right before the state championship game and told him that no matter what, he was proud of him. He remembers that after his dad had went to go find his mom and brothers, he’d made a silent promise that he’d do everything he could to win. And he did.

He also remembers the night before he was going up to his college dorm. How he’d sat in his room, his backpack open and completely empty. He’d looked around at the room he’d grown up in, and he was scared. He was terrified. How he’d walked over to his dresser and picked up a framed picture of him and his parents and brothers right after the championship game. Darry’s hair was sweaty against his head, but he had the biggest smile on his face. Ponyboy and Soda were hugging him, also with big smiles. His mom looked so proud of her son. But the only face he could focus on was his father’s. How his dad had a smile that rivaled Darry’s. Darry felt his chest swell with emotion looking at the photo. And suddenly, there were drops on the glass that covered the picture. Then, his father was standing in the doorframe. But by the time Darry had blinked, his dad was sitting next to him on his bed. His dad just reached out and let Darry, his first son, the boy who carried his name, the boy who made him a father, cry into his shoulder. Because he shouldn’t be this stressed about leaving. He should be excited, lord knows Darrel Sr would’ve been if he’d gone to college. But here he was, venting out all his fears while his dad just reassured him that he’d be fine. And he had Paul too. Even if he wouldn’t see his family every day, he still had a piece of home with him, after all, Paul was going to be his roommate so he’d probably see him so much they’d be sick of each other.

But then, his dad died. And suddenly, Darry was standing in the living room of the house he grew up, 15 feet from his dad’s chair, being told that his parents were gone. Dead. Suddenly, he was telling the cop that he would become his brothers’ legal guardian. Suddenly, filling out the paper work and writing down his name made nausea swirl in his stomach and made his head hurt. Because that wasn’t his name. That was his dad’s name. But that didn’t matter right now, what mattered was keeping his brothers safe and home. So he just filled it out and gave it to the state. He dropped out of college. He got a full time job at the same place his dad used to work. And he was slowly becoming Darrel.

Darry left the house six times during the week Pony was gone. Five of those times were to go to work because bills didn’t care if your baby brother could be dead somewhere. The other time was to go to the cemetery. Normally he would’ve taken Soda, but he couldn’t this time. Because he wasn’t even out of the car before he broke down sobbing. He cried in his car for a little bit, before deciding he needs to do what he came to do. So he got up, and walked over to the headstone at his mom and dad’s grave. He sat down and just started apologizing. He told them he was so sorry. He was so sorry that he couldn’t protect his brothers. He was so sorry that their baby ran away and it was his fault. He was so sorry for hurting them. He told them he didn’t know how they did it. He told them he wished they would come back. He wished they’d never left in the first place. He wished that Pony would come home. How he knew he didn’t deserve it, but he wished it brother would come home. Maybe not even for him, but for Soda. He told them that he couldn’t stand the fear he’d seen fill Pony’s eyes after he hit him. He looked at the gravestone with his parents names carved in it, and he told them he never meant to fuck up this bad. He told them that maybe it’d be better if Soda and Pony were with someone else. Maybe he just wasn’t cut out to be taking care of them. He told them that he knew Pony hated him, he knew Pony thought Darry hated him. Darry swore he didn’t, he loved his brothers more than anything. He didn’t even remember when he started crying, he just tasted the salt of tears in his mouth. So he shut his eyes tight in an attempt to stop them, because who the hell was he to cry? He did this, why should he get to be upset over it?

And in that moment, with his eyes shut, he could’ve sworn he felt his father’s reassuring hand on his shoulder, or his mother’s warm fingers wipe away the tears running down his cheeks. Maybe it was the wind, but Darry would’ve sworn that he heard their voices reassuring him. Maybe he was crazy, but he stood up and thanked them anyway. He’d told them he loved them and that he was going to do everything he could to bring their baby back home.

Darry mentally kicked himself when he got home and saw the kitchen light on. Because that meant Soda had and he was probably freaking out at waking up to an empty house in the middle of the night. So, Darry braced himself for the worst. But what he didn’t expect, was seeing the kitchen and living room empty. Confused, he’d gone to Soda’s room, it was also empty, but it was clear that Soda had been sleeping there because his half of the bed was all messed up, like someone had been tossing and turning. It wasn’t until he reached his own bedroom door that he heard quiet cries. So he’d pushed open the door and was met with the sight of Soda, curled in on himself, body shaking while he cried. Darry was immediately sent into older brother mode while he walked over to his brother. He’d knelt down in front of him and quietly asked him what was wrong. Soda’s head shot up at his brother’s voice and he just whispered out that he’d thought Darry had left too. And the sight of his little brother looking so scared and small broke Darry’s heart even further, something he didn’t even think was possible. It wasn’t until he’d managed to calm down Soda enough to convince him that he wasn’t going anywhere, that he saw Soda holding something. It was a frame. And in it was the picture of their family from Darry’s senior year. The photo with Darry smiling the biggest he ever had. The photo with Pony and Soda clinging to their big brother because of how amazing they thought he was. And then there was his mom, who looked so proud of him that he almost started crying. Lastly, there was his dad. His dad with the proud smile, equally as big as Darry’s. His dad who had taken off a whole day of work just to drive the whole family out to see him play. His dad who taught Darry how to play football in the first place. And looking at him did make Darry start to cry. So he pulled Soda close, and they just looked down at their family photo. Their family before it was shattered and separated. Their family when it was whole, and complete, and happy.

Soda spent the night in Darry’s room after that. He refused to let Darry out of his sight for fear that he was gone or he was going to leave the minute Soda fell asleep. But when they were both tucked in Darry’s too small bed, Soda finally let himself succumb to sleep. But Darry couldn’t sleep. He was too busy thinking about his dad. How would he feel seeing Darry now? Would he be proud of how his son stepped up? Or would he shake his head in disappointment and say that Darry was hurting his brothers? Then, Darry lets his mind wander to thoughts of how things would be if his parents never died. Would he wake up to his mom laughing at her 20 and 16 year old sons sleeping in a full size bed? Would he walk out to see his dad reading the paper in his chair? Would he kiss his mama’s cheek then ask his dad if they were watching the game on Sunday? Would his dad say that he had work, but somehow still turn up in time to watch at least half of it with him? Would he be working with his dad? No, he’d probably still be at college. Maybe starting his junior year by now. Maybe his dad would joke that his son would be in the draft in a few years. Maybe he’d call his brother’s and give them relationship advice while Paul sat on his bed giggling at him. Maybe in that world, he could look at pictures of his parents without longing for one more conversation. One more rushed goodbye because he was late. One more time that his dad patted him on the back. One more time his dad gave him a proud smile and said he was glad his son wore his name.

[annieisyourfavourite]

IT'S FINISHED

[floral-hex]

woke up at 4am feeling the weight of my life crushing me, so I’ve been sitting out in my car for the last couple of hours because I just need. to. be. somewhere else.

[wall-eye]

I wish my (OLDER) brother was like. Able to do basic things without me supervising him. I asked him to sweep and mop while I worked yesterday and he Slept All Day instead so I had to make sure he did it today (even tho I took today off because it's my 6th month anniversary and I wanted to spend as much time with my joyfriend as possible and they were having a shitty day so it was good that i did)

Tell me why he didn't know to *move the dog bed and temporary table* in the kitchen to get under them, why he laid down to nap after barely sweeping (at the same time he *went to sleep yesterday*), why he tried to nap Again after he broke two mops and only got a third of the way through the floor. Tell me why he got MAD cause I wasn't "doing anything" when I was making him do things (I cleaned the shower and replaced the blinds in the bathroom and had him and my sister each clean a third of it last week, I helped him clean his own room monday, I cleaned up and vacuumed the living room, I DIRECTED HIM ON EVERY STEP, I gave him 20 bucks of my *work lunch money* to get a new mop, me and my sister washed all the rugs, I cleaned my own room, me and my sister brought in the chairs and table ectectECT)

I'm making him do all this because we are Hosting. Thanksgiving. TOMORROW.

[pigeonclaw]

Finally got a hold of Star and started reading it and I can't say I'm surprised (given that this became very obvious in Wind), but I am disappointed with the direction they've taken Splashtail.

The reason he interested me in the start of ASC was because he seemed like someone totally disillusioned with the way Clans are running as a result of growing up during AVoS and TBC — AVoS being a time when RiverClan got conquered by rogues, and TBC being a time when everything kinda fell apart for everybody thanks to a StarClan cat running amok (and in both of these arcs Mistystar was terrible at working together with other Clans and actively added more problems to the pile).

Then he became a part of Curlfeather's plot to change things, agreed with her motivations but was disturbed by her still being willing to get power from StarClan, and decided to do things his way instead. If RiverClan has to stop relying on StarClan, then, in his mind, they needed to stop now. No more nine life ceremonies. Curlfeather became a threat in his eyes, so he got rid of her. And he had to scramble to keep things going his way afterward.

That was intriguing. It made Splashtail feel like someone with genuine beliefs and values and strong conviction, someone who believes he's doing the right thing even if he knows he has to get his paws dirty and cause a lot of harm to get it done.

Why they threw all that out just to make him another typical power-hungry dictator who wants to conquer all the Clans — something that's been done over and over and over already — I have no idea. He's even less believable than others of this type. RiverClan has no reason to follow him any more than they did Darktail. In fact, I find it hard to imagine that anyone who lived through Darktail's reign wouldn't start rioting as soon as they got a new leader who murders his warriors and threatens kits. It's bonkers.

That said, I'm enjoying the level of drama in the book so far. Splashtail fully a bad a boring character for me now, which is a shame, but there's more to enjoy and I'm here for it.

[seekingthestars]

me, yesterday: i got some projects done so i am finally starting to feel a little less overwhelmed at work!

work, today: gives me 5 new projects in the span of 8 hours

me: well nevermind 🫠🫠🫠🫠

[joshoconnaissance]

nothing makes me feel more like a jaded bitch than hearing the giggles coming from my roommates room. girl must really like him because he is NOT that funny.

[t4tbedehopmar]

update i HATE barbecues

[cuntycassandra]

Am I being a petty bitch and just sitting in the bathroom waiting for my younger brother to come upstairs so I can switch on the shower and say I’m gonna be a while? Yes. Yes I am

[milo-is-rambling]

If my dog barks one more time I am going to fight him

[sluttyten]

😠.

[thestamp3d3]

having a man baby for a brother is the worst thing that can happen to a girl

[a-lonely-tatertot]

I think im getting parent trapped rn??????

[allthatdivides2]

my brain telling me to go back to reading reddie fic 24/7 by making me dream about them last night