#bc she also went on a camping trip

[sapphicfeedist]

.

[the-faultofdaedalus]

love creating characters that should rightfully be traumatized or at least a little bit fucked up by their parent's parenting style except instead they're just, like, fine

[silverislander]

rereading a book i loved in high school to annotate a copy. remembering why it connected w me so much

[too-deviant]

jackie and wilson.

previous | next series masterlist

summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4.1k

content: broody!luke, teenage dirtbag!luke but also not really, sprinkles of mean!luke, r is unbothered and does not gaf about his lil emo boy act, this is four thousand words of r being a pain in luke’s ass, probs will make a part 2 bc i love them your honour 

notes:  speaking my truth: i am a british gal. any banter in this about the new england states is entirely stuff i got from reddit so plz don’t scrutinise my american states knowledge

the layout of this fic is very much inspired by @murdrdocs if that wasn’t obvious but also icarus if u want me to change it i will jus say the word :00

PART I — she blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild 

All things considered, you took the news of your heritage pretty well. 

Sure, there was a lot of yelling — mostly through the wall after you locked yourself in your room and started packing a bag — but at least you didn’t sit on it in denial for several hours. 

Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming. 

The first time you realised you could see things nobody else could, you tried to admit yourself into a ward. Your mom went a little panicky, and she never did perform well under pressure, so she caved and said you were special. Too special for the other kids at your school, too special for anyone to know about it. 

After that, she got more tense. Eyes darting around whenever you guys went out in public, hand lingering for a second longer on your back before she sent you to school — as if she felt like she’d never see you again. She would stay up at night and read you old Greek tales before you went to sleep, and acted way too serious about it. More serious than when she would read you Dr Seuss. 

Honestly, it was a miracle you went unknowing for so long. Maybe you were insignificant, or maybe the Stymphalian Pigeon that tried to kill you after school was just slow — because you were seventeen when you got attacked by your first monster. 

You took it out pretty easily — and by that, I mean you outran it through the bustling streets of your hometown until it flew messily into a bus and you dodged your way to your apartment in a flurry. Your mom’s resolve cracked like a thin layer of ice and you were packed and ready to go to this camp she spoke of before the clock had hit four-thirty. 

Most of the yelling that you guys did was along the lines of — “I can’t believe you waited this long to tell me!” — and — “I didn’t want you to leave!” — “I get that, but seriously mom, I almost got eaten by a bird today. A little context going in would’ve been nice!”

You threw yourself into a taxi — much to the disdain of your mother, who insisted on at least getting you to the hill. You then reminded her that she would have to pay the fare all the way back to their apartment and it honestly wouldn’t be worth it and that you’d call her when you got the chance. She let you go with a huff, folding her arms across her chest and creasing the silky material of her pink blouse. 

The next hour was about as awkward as taxi rides go, even more so when you got out in the middle of nowhere. You weren’t even sure you were at the bottom of the right hill but sent the poor guy on his way anyway and prayed to whoever your divine parent was that you weren’t about to get gunned down by an angry farmer for mistaking his land for a summer camp. 

Thankfully, the empty fields shimmered into something worth travelling for when you took a tentative step across its threshold. The sun seemed to get brighter and the breeze became softer. It was nice from where you stood, and it probably would’ve gotten nicer the closer you got. 

Had you not tripped over a rock and tumbled down the hill ungracefully, landing in a heap at the bottom, a few feet away from a dirt path that split off in two directions. You sat up with a huff, blowing your hair out of your eyes and squinting at your surroundings now that they were much closer. You didn’t bother to heave yourself up, catching your breath and letting your gaze flitter over the scenery. 

It was cute. 

Then the distinct sound of horse hooves clipping against the ground evaded your ears, and you looked up to greet the centaur who now stood above you. You thanked the gods for your moms intricately detailed bedtime stories as you pulled yourself up onto your feet and allowed yourself to be introduced to Chiron and Mr. D, who then led you to the four story house that overlooked the valley. 

Your induction was swift and sweet — since you pretty much knew and had accepted everything already. There were a couple of glances and muttered comments about how you had gone so long without being targeted, but Chiron had said he wanted you to get the tour before dinner so you could settle straight to bed after the campfire, and caught some young kid by the t-shirt as he ran past, asking him politely if he could send Luke over. 

The awkward two minutes it took for your tour guide to reach you stretched on for a painful amount of time, but you would relive it a hundred times over if it meant you didn’t have to experience the agony you called your first meeting with Luke Castellan. 

He was tall, with a dark mop of curls that hung over his furrowed brows. His skin was tanned from all the time he spent in the sun, and his shoulders were broad enough to intimidate, but not broad enough that you were intimidated. He was your age, seemingly, and the cuffs of his green cargo pants brushed against his ankles only an inch higher than they would sit on an average person.

His most memorable feature, however, had to be the deep scar that stretched from the top of his left brow all the way to his cheekbone — it was jagged and sharp, cutting across his eye roughly, as if he had been clawed. He probably had. It was raised and shone pink under the sun, so you could tell it was fairly new, but it had healed over enough to indicate that Luke was probably tired of hearing people ask about it. So you didn’t. You barely gave it a glance before you raised your brows at him with a cheeky grin and gave him your name. 

He nodded minutely, one of the only movements he made after he’d parked himself in front of you other than the sliding of his eyes from one person to another as they spoke to him. After Chiron and Mr D had given him the rundown, he gave a slight nod of his head in one direction before walking away and expecting you to follow. 

You caught up to him, sidling up on his left with a huff and a smile, “I’m getting the feeling that you're sorta sick of this giving this tour all the time.” 

He didn’t respond. He just looked at you, and then stopped walking, watching as you froze two steps ahead of him before shuffling back to his side sheepishly. Then he lifted an unbothered hand to the right, “Those are the strawberry fields.” He then gestured ahead, “That’s the beach.” And then to the left, “Those are the training fields.”

Then he started walking again, and you hesitated for only a second before following, “Wow. Don’t give me too much information all at once.” 

Your sarcastic comment was ignored, and Luke nodded towards the bank of cabins you were nearing, “These are the cabins. Twelve. One for each Olympian. You’ll stay in the Hermes cabin until you’re claimed.”

“Right.” You nodded, “God of Travellers. Makes sense.” 

He let out a breath, not pausing in his stride as he passed through the curve of houses, not sparing a glance to any of them. You took notice of how the other kids looked at him in apprehension, with a hint of fear when he got too close. He cut down an alley between two cabins — one with a dangerous amount of barbed wire across the top and another that glowed gold under the sunlight — before the pair emerged through the trees at a pavilion. 

“This is where we eat.” He said. “Dinner is soon.” 

“Cool.” You nodded, “What are the options? Because if food here is lacking, then I will be packing.” 

You let out a useless chuckle at your own joke, but it landed flat. “Yeah, that wasn’t funny.” You muttered lowly. With a click of your tongue, you glanced over the horizon and pointed at something from afar. A tall structure that stuck out the tops of the trees, “What’s that?”

“The climbing wall.” Luke answered plainly. 

“And that?” 

“The Amphitheatre.”

You looked up at him, pulling a face he didn’t bother to glance at. Then you noticed a bunch of campers filing through the trees and into the pavilion the two of you stood at the edge of. They entered in groups and made their way to their designated tables, chattering and gossiping as they did. 

You looked at Luke, “Well, that was…great. Truly, a riveting experience. I will say, though — your delivery needs some work. The dark and gloomy act works most of the time, but not when you’re giving a guided tour.”

That got him to look at you, and you held back your triumphant smirk. He frowned, “What?”

You shrugged, “I’m just saying, nobody is going to listen to you talk about this place if you describe it like this.” You lowered your tone into a subpar impression of his voice, and you swore you saw his brows twitch. Clearing your throat, you waved a hand, “No need to worry about that now, though. Just point me in the direction of the Hermes table and I’ll be out of your strangely well-conditioned hair.”

Another eyebrow twitch. You were getting the hang of this. Maybe one day you could get him to move other parts of his face! 

You half expected the boy to ignore you and walk off — and he did. But it was in the direction of the Hermes table, so you counted it as him showing you the way. Most of the campers were seated by the time you’d arrived, and you were thus forced to sit yourself on the end of the bench, uncomfortably beside him. He was unbothered. 

During dinner you were swiftly introduced to some of your peers — Chris Rodriguez gave you a lopsided grin and informed you politely that you would need to sacrifice some of your food before you got stuck into it. Travis and Connor Stoll sidled up on either side of you as you grumbled at the hearth, and yapped your ear off about the fundamentals of camp. 

(So all the sneaky stuff Chiron doesn’t know about. Like how you can skip out on archery training if Lee is the one running it because he never has it in him to snitch. Or that the pegasi stables were the go-to hook up spot for summer campers, but the back of the Amphitheater was the go-to hook up spot for the year-rounders. When you asked what the difference was, they winked, and when you asked what happened if a year-rounder hooked up with a summer camper, they chuckled and walked off.)

Chiron gave you an introduction that made you feel like a new kid being asked to tell the class one fun fact about yourself, and around six kids at your table asked if it hurt when you fell down the hill. 

Overall, a good first night. As far as first nights at a summer camp for half-gods goes. By the time all the campers had gone back to their respective cabins, you were ready to turn in and clock out for the day. 

But you wanted to try one more time. Last attempt, and then you’d let it go. 

When Luke — who you had discovered earlier was the counsellor of the Hermes cabin, and apparently a role model for the kids — came over and silently handed you a folded orange shirt with a leather cord sitting on top of it, you smirked. 

“Hey, now we can match. How cute.” 

He blinked at you, “Everyone is wearing the same thing.”

“The same shirts, you mean.” You tilted your head, “But we’re both wearing green cargos. And white socks. White sneakers.” Your grin widened as you watched his eyes flit down your form, taking in the outfit you had on. You were right — the only difference between you two was the white tank top you had on, soon to be replaced by the shirt he had just handed to you. You thought for a moment that it would work, that he would make a face, or say more than two sentences to you in response. 

But he didn’t. He just huffed and walked away, and you watched with an appalled expression. You narrowed your eyes. 

Okay, so maybe you weren’t ready to let it go yet. 

The next morning, you were rudely awakened by a small child who was sprawled across your torso, having shifted from his own sleeping bag that was beside yours. He couldn’t have been any older than six, his orange camp shirt sitting like a dress on him, and if he wasn’t snoring into your chest, you would’ve thought he was adorable. 

But you really needed to pee. 

After you slowly but surely lifted him back onto his own pillow, you stood up with a stretch and stepped precariously over the other kids, balancing carefully on the tips of your toes so you didn’t step on any of them. The sun was barely rising, and you were the only one awake, so you held your breath and reached out for the handle of the bathroom door. 

“That’s not your bathroom.”

You flinched, losing your balance and toppling back. A hand between your shoulder blades prevented you from crushing any of the kids on the floor, and you steadied yourself before meeting the eyes of the person who spoke. 

Luke was staring intently at you, his eyes blinking hard as if he’d only just woken up. He was in nothing but a pair of blue sweat-shorts and you fought the urge to rake your eyes over his bare torso, watching as he lowered his hand back to his side, “That’s the counsellor's bathroom.”

“Right.” Came a low mutter, under your breath. Then louder, you asked, “Well, where is the campers bathroom?”

“Outside.” He answered, “Around the back of the cabins.”

“Out—“ You started, and then realised everyone else was asleep and swiftly lowered your volume, but kept your expression exaggerated. Wide eyes, furrowed brows. “Outside?”

“Yes.”

“But…it’s cold out there.”

“We have a controlled climate.” He said, folding his arms across his chest. His biceps tensed, “It’s never cold.”

You let out a sigh, throwing your thumb over your shoulder and pointing at the door, “Can’t I just use this one? You aren’t using it, and everyone else is asleep, they’d never know!” 

He stared at you blankly and stayed silent for a long time. You wouldn’t be surprised if he just never said anything until you walked away, which you were well prepared to do, letting out a deep breath and folding your own arms over to preserve heat as you clambered towards the front door, muttering complaints under your breath the whole time. You made it three feet (or two sleeping bags) away from him when he finally piped up. 

“Be quick.” 

Turning around, Luke was already making his way back to his own bed, and you ogled shamelessly at his back muscles as you shuffled to his bathroom and made your way inside. You did your business quickly as requested and washed your hands under the low pressure of the sink before cracking the door open once more. The cabin was the same, everyone else still sleeping calmly. Luke was standing by his bunk, now clad in black shorts and his camp shirt. He paid you no mind when you padded back to your sleeping bag, grabbing your bag and stifling through the clothes you had packed. 

You walked up to breakfast with the unclaimed girl you had met the previous night — Lana — and listened and she told you intently about the lore of Luke Castellan. 

“He never used to be the way he is. He was happier before, always grinning. More than ready to help anyone here. He was…well, everyone either wanted to be with him or be him.”

“And then what happened?”

“He went on a quest. It went wrong. He came back with that ugly scar and he hasn’t been the same since.”

You made a comment that the scar wasn’t ugly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d add on that it made him look pretty hot. But you did know better, and you knew that Luke was three people ahead of you in the line and could probably hear what you were saying. So you kept that tidbit to yourself and ate your cereal in silence. 

When breakfast was over, you stood from the bench and turned, only to stop short when you realised Luke was standing behind you. Looking up at him, you raised a brow, “Yes?”

“I’m showing you around today.”

“You showed me around yesterday.”

His lips tightened, “We’re actually doing stuff today. Seeing what you’re good at.”

“Oh.” You ran your tongue over your teeth and nodded, “Well, where do we start?”

“Archery.” 

Turns out, you were pretty awful at archery. Even after you’d stopped firing arrows into the treeline, you still never hit the middle of the target. Lee had to correct your posture four times, and you broke six arrows. Eventually, you decided that Apollo was not your father, and shuffled over to where Luke stood beneath the shade of a tree — where he had been standing the whole hour. 

“Y’know, just because you’ve got this broody bad boy thing going on, doesn’t mean you have to linger in the shadows all the time.” You commented, picking at your fingernails and readjusting the long sleeve you wore under your camp shirt, “You just look weird.” 

Luke pointed at your cheekbone, “You’re bleeding.” 

You huffed, “I know.” You kept holding your bow too close to the side of your face and the feathers of the arrows kept scratching you whenever you let them fly. Lee mentioned how most people make that mistake the first time round, but you’d done it so much that he’d cut your lesson short and told you to get a bandaid from one of his siblings. You didn’t. 

He stared at your cut for a moment, like he was thinking hard about something. But he didn’t, and pushed himself off the tree he was leaning against and brushed past you, “Let’s go to the forges.”

You were better at blacksmithing than you were at archery, but the sword Charles Beckendorf was helping you weld still came out wonky and discoloured. He was a nice kid, funny, and your lowered spirits from your previous task had been quickly uplifted despite you not having much skill in his department. He let you keep the sword anyway, and you swung it jokingly at Luke as he led you to the Amphitheater. 

You made swooshing noises as you did so, chuckling when he didn’t so much as flinch, “Don’t act so tough, Castellan, I could take you out even with a dodgy sword.”

“You couldn’t.” He muttered, “I’m the best sword fighter here.”

You let out an over dramatic gasp, running ahead and swivelling around so you could meet his eyes, “Holy shit, was that…did you just…tell me something about yourself?” You grinned and his frown deepened, “Aw, Luke. We’re getting somewhere! This is amazing, I’m so proud. Soon enough we’ll be best frien — “

Before you could finish your incessant teasing, Luke grabbed your forearm and yanked you in front of him just as a kid on an out-of-control Pegasus toppled past you. You watched him disappear in mild shock, before looking back at the boy in front of you, “Hey, thanks. Almost got trampled. How embarrassing.”

He narrowed his gaze, “Do you not take anything seriously?”

You shrugged, “Not really. I’d ask you the same question, but…” You made a face. It was obvious that he was very serious, even if he never used to be. 

“Let’s go.” Was his boring response, moving swiftly past you and into the Amphitheatre so quickly you would’ve assumed he was trying to get away from you. (Which he definitely was).

You weren’t really all that bothered, not when you were having so much fun pissing him off. 

It took all of ten minutes for Luke to put your sword fighting lesson to an end. Not only had you insisted on fighting with the wonky sword rather than a working training one, you also kept pushing him with your hands whenever he got too close. 

“That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”

“Hey, it’s working, isn’t it?” 

You were pretty shit at it anyway, so you didn’t fight him when he said you were cutting your lesson short. You simply tucked your weapon onto the sheath he’d handed you and followed him down the hill to the dining pavilion. 

“So, where are you from?”

He didn’t answer you for a couple of minutes, something you’d been well prepared for. But you couldn’t help but ask — he intrigued you. A little too much, maybe. 

You continued, “Because you seem like a Mass guy.”

Luke stopped in his tracks, turning to you, “Mass…achusetts?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, fighting off your amused smile when he pulled a face. Finally, an expression!

Truth was, Lana had told you he was from Connecticut. You just wanted to see how he’d react, if he would react at all — apparently he isn’t immune to everything. 

“I’m from CT.” He made it very clear, and you tried your hardest not to laugh. “Okay? I'm not some Boston Masshole, got it?”

You raised your hands in surrender, “Got it.” 

He stared at you for a second longer, as if to ensure you really did have it. Squinting at your amused smile before nodding and continuing his walk. You thought it would go back to silence, but apparently you’d lit a fuse. 

“I mean, what makes you think I'm from MA?” He asked, his tone of voice so appalled you’d think he’d been accused of some sort of crime. “Do I smell like shit?”

A chuckle, “What?”

But he just whirled on you once more, lifting his arm and gesturing to his pit, “Do I? Do I stink of shit?” 

You didn’t feel like sniffing him, so you just shook your head, still laughing, “No.” 

“Then what — ?” He stopped, narrowed his eyes, “Where are you from?”

You tried to hide your smile, but it was getting really difficult. The last two days he’d been nothing but broody and miserable, one word quips being his only form of communication other than dark frowns. But one mention of Mass and he’s suddenly down to chit chat? You couldn’t help but laugh — unfortunately, it only spurred him on. 

“You think this is funny?” He scoffed, nodding, “Yeah, bet you’re from Maine too.”

Your laughter continued, little giggles spilling out of you whenever you thought about the situation too hard. You shrugged, “I don’t think I wanna tell you after this.”

Luke nodded like he was expecting you to say that, “Something a Mainer would say, I’m sure.”

You grinned wide, very proud of yourself for getting a visceral reaction out of the boy — even if you had to piss him off to do it. Just as you went to reply with a witty comeback that would have him ranting and raving for the rest of the night, the dinner conch sounded, interrupting what you’re sure would’ve been a very entertaining conversation. 

You walked on past him, not stopping, but slowing down so you could cough into your fist, “Flatlander.”

You didn’t look back but you did hear him scoff in shock, and you were sure he stood there frozen for at least twenty seconds because he entered the pavilion way later than you did. He made a point to fix you with an annoyed stare as he sat down a few people away from you — and Chris raised a brow. 

“What’d you do to him?”

You shrugged, digging into your mashed potatoes before anyone could tell you to wait until you’d made your offering, “Told him he looked like a Bay Stater.”

He chuckled, wincing under his breath and shaking his head, “You’re evil. I like it.”

You smirked and said nothing — but whenever your eyes flickered over to Luke, his were just flickering away from you.

[bbbbbbbbatman]

Annual Mandatory Batfam Camping Trip

Bruce started the tradition after adopting Dick of going out camping one weekend every summer to try and have a more "normal" family bonding thing

Yes, it is mandatory for all members of the family, even those not currently living in the manor

It is universally hated by all the children except Cass, she thinks it's so fun

Everyone except Dick, Damian, and Cass are all city kids and prefer it that way, thank you very much

Dick was so excited the very first trip and that excitement lasted until approximately one hour into trying to set up the tent (it took nearly two hours total), he's dreaded it every year since but won't say anything bc it makes Bruce so happy

Damian thinks it's unnecessary and uncivilized to sleep on the ground for no purpose other than "fun" (he fails to see what's so fun)

Alfred never goes on this trip, he does a bunch of the packing and prepping and then pushes them all out the door with their bags, Bruce asked if he wanted to come the first year and Alfred said a very polite and British version of "fuck no" and he enjoys his annual weekend off

Barbara was also invited but refused, saying she wasn't technically part of the family and therefore didn't have to go

(Steph tried using the same technicality, but was outvoted by Tim, who wants her to suffer with them, and Cass, who gave her puppy dog eyes, nobody was brave enough to argue with Barbara)

There are three tents: Steph and Cass in one, Bruce, Dick, and Damian in one, and Jason, Tim, and Duke in one

Jason has a scar of his shoulder from the time they tried fly-fishing and Tim's hook got hooked on Jason and Jason will never let him forget it

There is a ban on any kind of traps or hunting after Duke got stuck in a net Damian set up to "protect" them from bears

Tim and Dick always struggle to open the bear-proof trashcans

Every single one of them hates hiking except for Jason, but all of them are too prideful to ever admit it so they all suffer through at least two hikes each trip

Cass' favorite activity is swimming in the nearby lake, it's always refreshing and there's lots of little fish swimming around

Bruce made them go geocaching one year and they split into two groups to compete and both groups got horribly lost

Damian hates almost every part of the trip except each morning he wakes up really early and quietly sits at the edge of a nearby field to watch dear go through, his best memory was when they went in the spring one year and he got to see two fawns and their mothers

[sunburnhurts]

Bear lover || Cedric Diggory x fem!Reader

PART ONE PART TWO

Summary: Cedric and Y/n's parents are very close and they decide to go on a camping trip. Y/n and Cedric don't know each other in school, their paths never cross so they don't know they go to the same school. They have only met before on one of their parents get together's, but this get together will be very different. (Pretend cedric has a younger brother lolll).

Words: 2,754

All My Stories

A/n: Hey guys! So I just was on a small vacation, and im about to go on another one, but i wanna post something before I leave bc idk how well tumblr works on my phone, but I also wanted to make a longer story. So there is no promise of me posting all of it, it might have to be 2 parts so im so sorry loll.

Y/n finishes packing everything she needs for her camping trip. Toothbrush, toothpaste, clothes, hairbrush... Y/n thinks as she places the items in her bag, making sure she has everything she needs. A quiet knock on her door almost distracts her, but she finished her train of thought before she answered the door.

"I need help getting my bag." Y/n's little brother, Aaron, looks up at her with glossy eyes which indicated he was frustrated at something.

"Yeah of course Ronnie." Y/n says as she bends down and picks up her 6 year old brother. "Why so sad?"

"Mom said I can't bring more then 2 stuffed animals to the trip." He says with a trembling lip. "But I wanna bring 3." After he said that, tears broke loose from his eyes, making him stuff his head into Y/n's neck.

"Hey, don't worry about it." Y/n gives her brother a squeeze and he looks up at her. "Just put one in my bag, mom and dad don't have to know." She whispers to him and a huge smile is revealed on his red face and he hugs his sister. Y/n hugs and puts him down to get the stuffed animal he wanted.

Aaron runs back with a stuffed bear and places it on Y/n's bed. He then holds Y/n's hand as they walk to his room to get his bag from the top of his closet. Y/n reaches up on her tippy-toes and grabs it.

"Are you excited to see Leo?" Y/n asks as she turns around and places the bag on the toddlers bed. Leo is Cedric's 6 year old brother. Y/n always thought it was funny how her family and Diggory's family had kids at the same time, like it was planned.

"Yes! I can't wait for me, you, Cedric, and Leo to all play together!" Aaron smiles.

Y/n chuckles and says, "Don't get your hopes up, me and Cedric wont be able to play the whole time, 3 weeks is a while you know." Hearing this, Aaron frowns at the girl with begging eyes. "I can't speak for Cedric but I promise to play with you as much as I can!"

"You better!" He pouts, walking over to Y/n and holds her hand again. "Can we have ice cream before we leave?"

Y/n sighs and thinks for a moment. "Pinky promise you wont tell mom and dad?" She holds out her pinky with her unoccupied hand.

"Promise!" He says as he latches his finger with Y/n's.

~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n leans over and takes her thumb and wipes the chocolate ice cream in the corner of Aaron's mouth. She rolls her eyes playfully at her messy little brother, who almost got the 2 caught. The Y/L/N family was all in the car, heading to the camp ground.

Y/n's parents were talking to each other about the plans for what to make for food. Her dad said something about eggs, which made Y/n think of eating breakfast. She then went into deep thought about the upcoming trip.

She then thinks about the last time Y/n has saw Cedric, which was 5 years ago. She saw the Diggory family quite a lot, Leo and Aaron had a playdate the other week, but not Cedric. He was always too busy with other things to come visit the Y/L/N family.

She thinks about how young they both were, 11 and tiny. She thinks about how different she looked from now, and how it will be the same for Cedric.

Back when Y/n was 11, she thought Cedric was too cool for her until he approached and befriended her. They were at Y/n's house and were playing the whole time. They had the time of their life. By the time it was time for the Diggory's to leave, the 2 young kids were begging their parents to let them have a sleep over. When their parents said no, they said goodbye, not knowing they wouldn't see each other for another 5 years.

Y/n wondered if Cedric ever thought about that time. She hoped he did, Y/n always wished she could see Cedric again. In her first year of Hogwarts, her mind would wonder off in the middle of class, thinking about what he was doing. Little did she know they were both in Hogwarts, but they never saw each other and their parents never talked about it to them.

~~~~~~~~~~~

When the Y/L/N family arrives at the cabin, they notice the Diggory family wasn't there, so they decided to start unpacking the car. Y/n grabs both her and her brothers bags and walks into the cabin. She walks around, counting all the rooms and beds. 2 rooms for the parents, and 2 rooms which both had 2 beds for the kids.

Y/n places the bags on a table, unsure of where else to put them. As she does so, she hears a car turn into the cabin's rocky driveway. "Leo's here!" Aaron shouts, dashing to the front door. Nerves tingle Y/n's body as she waits for her old friend to reveal himself.

As Aaron opens the front door, the Diggory family stands right at the door with bags in their hands. Mr. and Mrs. Diggory's face light up as they see Aaron, who is holding the door open for them. The family walks into the cabin and says their hellos to everyone.

"Y/n! How have you been!" Mrs. Diggory says merrily and holds her arms out for a hug.

"I've been good! And yourself?" Y/n asks, returning her hug.

"I've been better, but I can't wait to spend the next 3 weeks with your family!" She responds, exiting the hug. "Cedric! Come say hi to Y/n! You guys haven't seen each other in forever!" Mrs. Diggory waves the boy over and Y/n gets a good look at him.

He is a lot different looking, his hair was longer, he was much taller, and much handsomer. Y/n wasn't afraid to admit that to herself, but certainly not to other people.

Cedric smiles and nods to the girl, saying, "Hey Y/n."

"Hey Cedric," Y/n returns the smile, "long time no see."

"Yeah, sorry about that, I've been super busy with school." Cedric laughs awkwardly as his mother walks away to say hi to the rest of Y/n's family, leaving the 2 alone.

Cedric looked into Y/n's eyes, taking in how much older she looks. More mature, tanner, and very pretty. Whenever his parents were talking about the Y/L/N family, he would always wonder how Y/n was doing. He felt bad for how much he couldn't see that family and he hoped they didn't think he was avoiding them.

"That's all right, I understand," Y/n gleams at the boy, "we have 3 weeks to catch up." Cedric lets out an airy laugh and nods as Y/n's parents come up to talk to Cedric.

As Cedric and Y/n's parents catch up about Cedric's life, Aaron and Leo run up to everyone. "Mom! Dad! Can me and Leo share a room!" Aaron says, interrupting whatever my Cedric was saying.

"As long as it's okay with Leo's parents." My mom says, fixing a hair on Aaron's head that was sticking up. She then looks to me and Cedric and says, "As long as it's okay with you guys to share a room too." Cedric and Y/n both look at each other and nodded in agreement.

"Yay!" The 2 young boys shout in union, running to one of the bedrooms.

Cedric finishes what he was saying before Aaron interrupted him, and Y/n grabbed Aaron and her bags and brought it to Ronnie's room. She then brings her bag to the other room and sets it on a random bed. She starts unpacking all her clothes, placing them in the empty drawer next to her bed. The 2 beds in the room were on opposite ends, both in corners. Y/n took the left bed, closest to a window.

Y/n finishes up unpacking as she hears the door open wider. She turns her head to the sound and sees Cedric walking into the shared room.

"Damn I wanted that bed." Cedric frowns playfully.

"Shoulda called dibs." Y/n says, shrugging her shoulders. Cedric snickers at the girl and walks over to the other bed. Y/n sits on her bed criss-crossed and watches as the boy starts unpacking his things. Y/n hears the voices of her and Cedric's moms entering the room, so she looks at them.

"Now kids," Mrs. Diggory starts as Cedric turns around and sits on his bed the same way Y/n is, "we know you kids are teenagers, but we are trusting you 2 to not do any-" She stops herself, not knowing a word to say.

"-'stuff'" Y/n's mom finishes. Y/n and Cedric share a look of disgust at their mothers.

"Momm." Y/n says shaking her head and looking away.

"I'm sorry Y/n, but as your mother I need to make sure I don't have a grandchild until I'm much older."

Y/n puts her elbows on her legs and buries her face in her hands. Cedric snorts at the situation, finding it funny how embarrassed Y/n is getting. Y/n hears his laugh and shoots her head at him. "This is not something to be laughing about!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Cedric laughs, putting his hands up in defense. Y/n rolls her eyes jokingly and laughs, looking at the 2 moms still standing at the door.

"They're so cute." Y/n and Cedric hears Cedric's mom whisper to Y/n's mom. After the 2 moms leave, Cedric and Y/n sit in silence for a few seconds. Cedric looks over at Y/n and sees something on her bed. He gets up and walks over to her, making Y/n look at him.

"Need a stuffed bear to sleep?" He asks, grabbing Aaron's bear and holding it up with a smirk. Y/n's face got flushed.

"No," Y/n gets up from her bed and reaches out for the stuffed bear, "it's Ronnies."

"Oh really? Then why was it in your bag?" He says, moving the bear out of reach.

"Because he could only bring 2 stuffed animals, but he wanted 3, so I packed one for him because I'm such a good sister." Y/n says, moving around to get the bear.

"That's a good fake story." Cedric teases. He knew it was true, but he found it funny annoying her about it.

"It's not fake! Ask Ron!" Y/n says defensively. She finally got a hold of the bear and Cedric let go, smirking.

"What ever you say, Bear lover!" Cedric walks away from the girl smiling into the room with the rest of the families. Y/n watches Cedric walk away and shakes her head, tossing the bear back on her bed and then following the boy into the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~

As the first day was ending, the Y/L/N and Diggory family sat around a fire made by Y/n's dad. Aaron and Leo were running around playing games with each other, Y/n and Cedric laughed at the 2 boys tiring themselves out. Y/n and Cedric were sitting next to each other on a bench facing the fire, making small talk about their lives.

"I'm glad we are on this trip, I don't know what I would be doing this summer." Y/n says, thinking about how she would have been in her room all day.

"Me too," Cedric says as he turns his head to look at Y/n, "I would probably hang with the Weasley's and loose my mind."Y/n looks up at him and laughs, thinking about the crazy Weasley twins.

Aaron runs up to the Y/n and begs, "Can we play hide and seek pleeeeaassee?" Y/n and Cedric look at each other and share a "why not" look.

"Yeah sure, Ronnie. I'll start counting, you guys can hide." Y/n says, purposfully leaving Cedric with the 2 younger boys.

Cedric shakes his head at the girl, "How dare you leave me with them."

"Shoulda called dibs!" Y/n says, watching as Cedric gets dragged by the hands of Aaron and Leo. She covers her eyes with her hands and start counting quietly. "1.. 2.. 3...." Once she got to 30, she gets up and walks away from the fire, feeling the coldness of the night air.

Y/n walks around the semi-dark yard, approaching a set of trees. She spots a yellow shirt peeking from behind a tree, just like the shirt Cedric's little brother was wearing. "Hmm, I wonder where Leo is," She says as she peeks behind the tree.

Leo looks up at Y/n and says, "How did you find me!"

"Lucky guess?" Y/n says as she reaches out for his hand. "I don't want you getting lost in the woods." Leo nods and latches his hand in the girls hand. "Do you know where Ronnie is?" Leo smiles, pulling Y/n over to a tall tower of logs.

Before she could peek behind the logs, a tall figure jumps out at the girl saying, "Boo!"

"AH!" Y/n says quickly before covering her mouth. She looks up at the figure, identifying it as Cedric and slaps his arm. "Do not do that!" The boy laughs and places a hand on the girls shoulder.

"Don't be such a scardy cat." He says as the girl smiles and shoves his hand off her shoulder.

"Whatever." She responds. Aaron walks out behind the pile of logs laughing at his older sister, causing his hair to get ruffled by the older girl.

After more rounds of hide and seek, it was time to go inside and get ready for bed. The adults were putting their youngest children to bed, and Cedric and Y/n were getting ready for bed. Y/n was changing into her pajamas in the bathroom, and Cedric was changing in the bedroom.

Once Cedric was done changing, he walks over to Y/n's bed, picking up the stuffed bear. "I see you kept your brothers bear." He says loud enough for Y/n to hear.

"Oh, I guess I forgot to give it to Ronnie." Y/n calls out, rolling her eyes at the boy.

"Mhmm," Cedric says in a sarcastic tone, taking the stuffed bear over to his side of the room. He sits on his bed with the bear in hand and looks down at it. Y/n opens the bathroom door and looks over at Cedric.

"Oh so now you want the bear?" Y/n jokes as she walks over to her bed.

Cedric nods, "Yeah it's actually a pretty cool bear, I don't think I could sleep without it now." Y/n shakes her head and goes under the covers.

"It's so cold in here." Y/n says aloud, not talking to anyone in particular.

"Put on a jumper." Cedric says, looking at the girl.

"I didn't pack one, I didn't think I would need it." Cedric pauses, then gets up and grabs one of his jumpers. He then tosses it to the girl and she gratefully accepts it. Cedric watches from his bed as the girl puts his jumper on and then goes back under the covers.

Y/n's mom and Cedric's mom peek their heads into the room, which catches the attention of Cedric and Y/n. "Goodnight kids." They both say.

"Goodnight mom." Y/n and Cedric say in union. The 2 moms turn the light off and closes the door. Y/n looks up at the ceiling, thinking about the eventful day, still tired from the long drive.

Cedric looks over at Y/n as he recalls a memory from when they were younger. "Remember when we were running around in your basement and you knocked into your mom's vase?"

Y/n turns her head to the boy, smiling at the memory. She was somewhat surprised that he remembered that. "You remember that?"

"Of course I remember, you have a scar on your arm in the exact spot you hit the table." Y/n's face turns red from how observant he was of the girl. "Did you ever get caught?"

Y/n turns her body to face the boy, responding with, "I said the cat knocked it over, but I don't think my mom believed it."

A breathy laugh came from Cedric and he adjusts his body to face Y/n. "Why haven't I ever seen you at Hogwarts?" Y/n asked. "Were you avoiding me?"

"How could I ever avoid THE Y/n Y/l/n?!" He jokes.

"That's what I was wondering!"

"I'm not sure why you haven't seen me, I'm at Quidditch most the time. Have you gone to any Hufflepuff matches?"

"I've gone to a few Gryffindor ones. I think I went to the one where Hufflepuff beat Gryffindor."

"You're welcome for that win." Cedric winks at Y/n.

"Wait," Y/n thinks for a moment, "you were the one that caught the snitch!" Cedric laughs and nods his head. "Wow I never knew I was in the presence of the king of Quidditch!"

"You might need to get my autograph or people wont believe you've met me!" Y/n snickers and turns her body to face the ceiling. "So Ms. Y/n, why have I not seen you at Hogwarts?"

"I'm not sure, I'm usually outside of my room, hanging with my friends."

"Maybe I've seen you, but not recognized you. You look a lot different you know." Cedric said, emphasizing the word "lot".

"In a good way, I hope." Y/n laughs.

"Yes," Cedric pauses for a second, still facing the girl. "in a good way."

Y/n smiles and says, "You look different too, you don't have those big glasses you used to have."

"You did not need to bring that up."

"Too late." Y/n smiles and blinks tiredly. There was a moment of silence before Y/n said, "Goodnight Cedric."

"Goodnight, bear lover." Cedric says, even though he is still holding the stuffed bear in his hand.

END OF PART 1

Not pre-read!

A/n: Hey guys! I'm going to be writing more tonight, but I can't promise to post it until I'm back from vacation, so I hoped you liked this! If it wasn't clear, Y/n and Cedric found out they went to the same school when they were talking at the fire. Thank you for reading and I'll be starting on the next part!

[equallyshaw]

rose's relationship with her brothers + reactions to her coming out! | rutger x rose hughes au! ⚘ thoughts! ⚘ au masterlist.

rose + quinn: - that's his rosie posey - originated the nickname, posey after their parents called her rosie the first time - incredibly close as they both lived in BC for 4 years - growing up, he'd always make sure she played with them and always made sure the two others gave her time to learn the game - rose was his shadow growing up - always told her that she didn't need to play jack's position - a center - to make the positions even, like luke and quinn - also, he always said that if she gave up hockey nobody would be disappointed because there was a time she wanted to quit to be 'normal' at school - flied rose out during his time in vancouver that overlapped with hers, whenever she was able to come out. he also flew out to visit her and see her games at BC + her jr hockey club - she sends him all her poems, before she posts them to her poetry/spam account - always says if hockey doesn't work out, she should publish her works. - quinn is her passenger princess when they are together - always there to be a source for advice, and somebody for her to lean on - will belt out olivia rodrigo, any day of the week - since the moment she was born, he made jack promise they'd always be there for her and protect her. the two take their unspoken role very seriously

rose + jack: - tolerate eachother at best - just kidding but they do butt heads a lot because he doesn't always pick up on her sarcasm and thinks she is serious 100% which...it is typically 75% - nickname for rose is flower - jack is always done for spur of the moment ice cream trips and both have an adoration for brunch dates - when she told him that she was thinking of trying to go for the CHL because they had reached out and asked her and her team about joining the men's league, he was incredibly happy and excited for her. not to mention flattered she wanted his opinion, but ultimately she skipped the chl and headed for college- a year early - he is the easiest to make a meme out of, and will regularly post to her spam account (he can literally breathe, and one appears) - during summer camps growing up, rose would be his winger/forward. the two loved playing together and it meant both her brothers could be on the same line

rose + luke: - nickname for rose is lovie - after quinn, her and luke are closest because of their ages - their favorite season is summer because they all get to be together, and especially for these two, the two have always held a bond that nobody can touch - as a kid she used to play defence because she wanted to be like luke, and then realized she wasn't going to grow much more and shifted to winger/forward - coffee partners for life - at the lakehouse you'll probably find these two together. she'll be reading or writing, and he'll be napping either at her feet or right behind her. or nearby. - definitely a sunshine/black cat sibling duo - interchanging - both love drive around with country music blasting - because she hates golf, the brothers take her to mini golf during the summer which leads to a very heated game between the two young ones

their reactions to coming out as bisexual:

quinn: - incredibly grateful she came out to him first after asking for a plane ride to see him - gave her the absolute biggest hug and shed some tears now knowing how long she'd been holding it in and how much turmoil she went through - told her how proud he was of her and that he was proud to be her sister (cue the waterworks again!) - when she started going out with her ex girlfriend - publicly, he was so happy for her and was one of their biggest supporters in private and on social media

jack: - was incredibly proud of her for coming out to them - was happy that she could publicly be with her girlfriend at the time - gave her the biggest bear hug and said if anybody says something or treats you differently- they'd have to answer to him (all three) - because he is always down for a good time, he told her that if she wants to go to a pride parade - he wants to join her

luke: - was a tad bit hurt that she hadn't said anything to him earlier but got over it real quickly after realizing that it was her own journey and the decision to tell him whenever - the two had a long hug and then long talk about when she knew, how things came about with her ex and then like jack, had said he'll always be there to protect her if she needed him to - she told him that it was the hardest thing to keep from not only the whole family, but him because of the bond that they share (lots of tears were shed during their heart to heart)

ellen + jim: - more than accepting, welcoming and supportive - just like all their children, they want rosie to be happy - ellen could tell there was something on her daughters mind for sometime now, and is relieved to hear what it is - as soon as the words were shared, a minute passes before ellen is pulling her baby girl in her arms. - lots of tears were shed - jim was very quiet but nevertheless supportive and welcoming - he was overwhelmed but not in a bad way - gave her the biggest bear hug and forehead kiss - the next morning, rosie awoke to a small bouquet of hydrangeas, coffee + sandwich, and a card from jim - the card said everything he hadn't been able to share the night before, without crying. tells her how proud he is and that he is proud to have her as his daughter, and that he's always been proud of her. - when she tells the family that she has a girlfriend the same week, a beat doesn't pass before them wanting her to come visit them at the lake house and asking every question under the sun about them

[somewhereincairparavel]

Hazel and Jason's dynamic is SO fucking disappointing now that I'm binge reading the books again. It was so frosty and distant. Jason was literally just mistrusted and "not like what she expected him to be" in 90% of her Hoo POVS it's sad really. I really wish they would bonded properly. So much potential for friendship just down the drain.

Hazel's unwillingness to forgive Jason for suspecting Nico was genuinely pissing me off I'm sorry 😭 like I never thought I'd get mad at Hazel of all people bc she is literally a sweetie, but she's infantilized way too much in the fandom, so her flaws are easily overlooked, but like she literally went all volcano on Jason and held a grudge against him till House of Hades too? Like I get that she worried about her brother and stuff I'd be mad too. But it's the fact that she selectively forgave Leo SO quickly and never even yelled at him (even though he's the one who started the suspicion in the first place even jokingly called nico creepy and stuff behind his back not that I'm trying to fault him or anything I love him)

look I'm not saying it's all Leo's fault or anything, in my opinion, both Jason and Leo were right to suspect nico because of how back and forth nico went from both camps without saying a word and also pretended to not know percy and stuff. So it's realistically shady behaviour from their pov.

But Hazel gets all sweet and soft on Leo because of Sammy and forgives him in a heartbeat, tbh tho she never really directed her anger on Leo in the first place so there was nothing to forgive. But when Jason apologizes, she gets all cold and frosty like accepting his genuine apology is the hardest thing she has ever done?? Like?? Hazelnut I love you and all, but you just accused Jason of unfairly judging nico but you ironically unfairly judged Jason and went all sweetheart on Leo?? Contradiction much?? Either forgive both of them or don't forgive either of them? Why the bias?

Then in HoH she goes on a whole lot of yapping about how she doubts his capabilities as if she didnt just idolize him like 5 minutes ago RIGHT after he encouraged her that she was doing well and included her as a part of the team?? Idk, she was so petty with him and for what?. I just found it unfair that Jason considered hazel a friend but she didn't consider him one and just fully went all judgy mode on him for the rest of the series. she holds on an even bigger grudge than nico lol. she literally did anything but forgive him or give him a chance. so ooc.

Also, In TOA, I found out Hazel told Apollo that she talked to Jason's ghost after he died, to yell at him about how much his sacrifice had hurt Piper :/ like rlly? Out of all the things you could say to a person you idolized who made a lifechanging sacrifice, you guilt trip him for the sacrifice instead of gratitude? Ig she may have been raging out of grief or something but I honestly didn't like the way their dynamic ended. So incomplete. Just another reason of why I found fanon way better.

Hazel coming in terms with the fact that jason is a boy, and not a legend would've been sm better. since the seven basically signifies friendship and comfort. him being a boy with feelings is basically the whole point of his character, but it only gets acknowledged by nico and leo. hazel of all people would've understood jason's internal struggle, she has literally come back from the dead, if anyone knows about struggle, its her.

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Beg For It [21]

TW: smut :P

_______________

dacnorthxx started following you.

sallysusedtoiletpaper: VI WHO IS THIS WHO IS NORTH WHY IS THIS INTERACTION GIVING ME LIFE??? t0ddles2: @sallysusedtoiletpaper frontman of dark autumn complex sallysusedtoiletpaper: @t0ddles2 oh omg ok... I've never heard of them are they any good?? ashypoops: I haven't heard of them either. What genre? More importantly DOES VI HAVE HER VERY FIRST SHIP toodswithoutthed: @ashypoops I WAS ABOUT TO ASK BC THE CHEMISTRY!?!? they're obsessed w each other... I went stalk his profile. Ship name options: northlence, violeth... t0ddles2: they're rock/metal. even if u don't like the genre, they're worth a listen sallysusedtoiletpaper: WORD I just followed him and their band account >:3 also @toodswithoutthed I'm personally a fan of violeth. I'm linking this shit in the faces fan discord ashypoops: THERE'S A FAN DISCORD??? can u send me an invite pooks🥺 sallysusedtoiletpaper: @ashypoops ofc😘 sallysusedtoiletpaper: OMFG SOMEONE BEAT ME TO THE CHAT EVERYONE KNOWS NOOOOOO

———

Yea, so I lost my job. Big shocker.

Once my boss found out that I dipped mid-shift, the text was typed out and sent by the evening.

In any other situation, I'd be fucked. Indefinitely. Completely broke and flailing to get a new job. In fact, that was my first thought. As soon as I got the text, I clicked onto my bank account to check how much I'd have to live off of until I found a new job--

--only to find out that I had over $2,000 just sitting around, which was such a nice surprise. I don't think I've ever had so much money to my name before in my entire life. And all the transactions were straight from all my streaming apps. All within the past two weeks since being back in LA.

To say the least, losing my job couldn't have happened at a better time. Now, I can put my focus into something I actually enjoy doing.

But first, a trip to Nockfell, which is proving to be more chaotic by the second.

"Todd, dude, there's a chemistry to this thing, okay? It's a ritual," Larry says, all seriousness and business face as he stares back into Todd's uninterested gaze. "I can't fly without it."

Todd blinks, a flash of frustrated disappointment crossing over his features. "You're not taking an edible before the flight, Lartholomew."

Ash had a ticket ready for me before she even got to LA yesterday. Her entire mastermind plan was to abduct me whether I liked it or not-- not that I would've said no to begin with. And besides, having her at the apartment to help me pack last minute made pre-flight stress non-existent.

Travis is camping out at my apartment. He was more than happy to kick me out of my own house, claiming that my bed is comfiest anyway. Regardless, he said he had no desire to return to Nockfell anyway. And dad was just excited for me to go visit considering how much I've complained about missing the little town over all these years.

Sal and I haven't spoken since his last commanding text to me. Right before his very sudden face reveal. He's caught in an almost petrifying silence-- has been since he put his prosthetic back on. I, on the other hand, very much resemble a little puppy whimpering and begging at his feet. Metaphorically, of course. I wouldn't dare to physically exploit my internal thoughts.

The really sickening truth is that I'm so desperate to see his face again that I'd trip him down a flight of stairs just to recreate yesterday's scene.

Just kidding. I don't mean that. I definitely don't.

"All our seats are kind of screwed up, so I have no idea where you're sitting, sugar." Ash pokes my cheek, her chin in her palm and elbow propped on the armrest of her seat. "I bought them kind of last minute so I took whatever they had available."

A little smile tips my lips as I turn my attention away from the grumpy smurf and focus on my stunning best friend. Her viridian irises glow with renewed joy and energy like our plans check off so many bullet points on her bucket list. "That's okay," I reply, tilting my head. "At least we actually have seats, right?"

Ash grins, her maroon shaded lips accentuating the light freckles along the bridge of her nose. "See?" she chirps, arm winding through mine to pull me closer. "You get it. When do you not get it?"

Our plane calls for us to board, and so begins the toxic, anxiety-inducing split-up of the century. I lose all The Faces somewhere in the crowded line that gathers at our gate in just a matter of seconds. That's okay though, I'll probably end up sitting with some old lady that smells like an odd mixture of peonies, Dial soap, and Lysol. You know, a funeral home and two colds away from death. So long as she's nice, I'll catch her dentures when they fall out of her gaping mouth as she naps.

Anything for MawMaw.

I hobble my way into the plane, brain set on finding my seat before stressing about all other one hundred and fifty two things I have to worry about later. People are everywhere and it's, expectedly, a huge plane. Three rows-- two seaters against each wall and a row of three seats down the middle. Sickening, really. Social anxiety's worst enemy is looking for means of escape only to be met by even more people.

I block everyone out as best as I can, pretending that the people I bump into are just very dense pieces of furniture. Or, actually, even better-- a bunch of really buff kitties. Yep, just passing through a horde of Maine Coon's and Munchkin's.

I spot row F, my pupils zeroing in on the letter like a scope on a gun. Target acquired.

The majestic way I veer around what my mind imagines is a really tall Siamese and their spouse, a yellow Persian, is something that the directors of The Matrix are pissed that they couldn't come up with. I swing my foot around a figurative pair of paws and reach my free hand out to grip onto my seat-- F20. That's right bitches, I did it.

I swing my suitcase up, somehow managing to actually get it into the overhead compartment. I give it a good shove with both of my hands and a grunt, then pull the backpack off my shoulders to keep it at my feet when I sit down.

But now that I've stopped, cats are pushing past me and it's so aggressive and rushed that they suddenly aren't sweet, fluffy kitties anymore. They're people again and I'm starting to get dragged away from my seat by this sea of shared distress.

Nimble fingers latch onto my wrist from the seat beside mine-- the seat against the window. The hand tightens around me, giving my body a good yank forward. I use the aided force to weave my way around a few more people up until the hand pulls me into my seat.

I huff out a breath, pushing my hair out of the eyeholes of my mask. And begrudgingly, I turn my head to meet bright cerulean hair.

Sal isn't looking at me, he's facing the window. His entire stature gives off a mixture of unbothered and ashamed. He shouldn't feel that second one-- never. Granted, he shouldn't feel angry half as much as he does but that's besides the point.

Ever since it happened, I could tell that the abrupt exposure of his face has been heavily weighing on him. I don't owe this man a single thing-- he's been awful to me in so many ways, but I give credit where credit is due. Not only did he own up and apologize to me yesterday, he helped me to my seat... and he is handsome. Regardless of how he views himself.

He's my biggest enemy and I, his. But if I plan on getting fucked during my visit to Nockfell, I have to give him the Beating of Truth.

"So," I mumble, chewing on the inside of my cheek. If you couldn't tell, I'm absolutely forcing myself to do this even though it's the last thing I want to do. "How are we working around Ash, Larry, and Todd when we get to Nockfell?"

Sal's head tips up a bit, like he's wondering to himself if I actually just spoke to him. Then his head pivots sideways so that he can side-eye me.

"What?" He asks, voice genuinely shocked and confused. It makes my heart stutter a bit. Any time he speaks in a tone that isn't aggressive, it completely reboots my system.

"How are we going to follow through with this arrangement?" I try again, simplifying it into Sal terms. He has a wide vocabulary range; maybe using bigger words will snap some sense into him. For added effect, I lean onto the armrest separating him and I, trying to show that he doesn't repulse me or anything of the sort.

Sal doesn't move away, instead, he adjusts his body so that he can address me. Fully turns his prosthetic face to me and settles into his seat. I didn't realize how tense he was when I first sat down, but watching him relax now shows me how much my simple mention of our agreement settled his mental turmoil.

He's quiet for a moment, eyes dancing across my mask and body before his gaze meets mine again. "You still want to?" he finally decides to ask, eyebrows lifting beneath his prosthetic.

"Yea," I snort, scrunching my nose up as if his question is ridiculous. "Why wouldn't I?"

Okay, stupid question. I know the answer and the words came out before I could stop them. In more ways than others, that was a genuine response though. I can't accept that Sal would be so put off by his own appearance because I truly think it's so lovely. I have to remember though that not everyone sees themselves the way I see them though.

Sal's brows bunch together again, his eyes narrowing. "Stupid fucking question," he echoes my own thoughts, voice even and void of tone. Whoopsie.

I roll my own eyes, sighing. "Well, to settle the whole debacle," I start, aiming to just bite the bullet and extinguish the awkwardness and misplaced fear vibrating between us. "I think you're quite the catch."

Friendly banter is weird. Borderline uncomfortable, but... not quite. Just so that I'm ready to get this over with but I'd be prepared for it to happen again.

A nasally snort leaves Sal and he rotates his head so that he's facing the pair of seats in front of us.

"So," he prods, ignoring my statement. "North?"

Mission success. I know he'll never admit it and he doesn't need to, but I think he appreciates the compliment.

"What's it to you?" I counter, adjusting my position in turn. I sit criss-cross applesauce in my seat, making sure my feet don't touch Sal because God forbid. "You still get to fuck me."

"Not much," he says lowly, hand moving to ruffle up his fringe. There's that dagger tattoo again. And then his head tilts just a bit, haunting sapphire blue piercing straight through my soul like the weapon etched onto his skin. "But you're mine. North can't give you even an ounce of what I can."

Fuzzy fingers, a pounding heart, and the worst case of cold sweats possible dominates my body for the rest of the flight. My brain replays that statement over and over again, plaguing me with recurring physical reactions like I've just heard it in real life again. I wish he hadn't said anything at all if it was going to leave me like this.

Neither of us said another word. The only sound between the two of us was the constant cracking of my knuckles accompanied by me putting my feet on the ground-- then sitting criss-cross again-- then having to readjust again and again and again. He left me quite literally restless and I'm sure he's relishing in just the knowledge of it.

Landing in Nockfell was a quick divergence from bubbly hearted affliction in my being. A good distraction from Sal.

Perpetual autumn. Nockfell never gets too hot or cold. The air is always misty, the sky always grey and cloudy. Tall, ever-growing trees dominate both night and day, stealing all the light from the sun and hiding it in their leafy treetops. Nockfell houses the kind of atmosphere that I've dreamt of returning to for years now; the gentle eeriness and chill that I've longed to bask in ever since I left.

We step out of the airport and into the small parking lot where a suspiciously blue haired man is waving at us with a big, dad-like grin on his face. Not a question in my mind. That's Sal's dad-- the cropped, receding cerulean hair was the first obvious sign but as we grow closer, his bright azure eyes are the second giveaway.

"Wassup, daddio!" Larry exclaims, wrapping Sal's father up in a huge bear hug (which is so Emo Buff Daddy of him). I nearly forgot that Sal's dad, who I now know as Henry, is also Larry's step-dad. Crazy.

"Not much, big guy!" Henry chuckles, rubbing Larry's back affectionately once the hug comes to an end. He pats Larry's shoulder, that big smile still on his aged face. "You guys brought the friend back! Convinced her to come huff up our humid air?"

Henry moves over to Ash, Todd, and then Sal to hug all of them. He purposefully places a discreet kiss on top of Sal's head before turning to me.

He holds his arms open suggestively and my heart flutters. "You okay with hugs?" He asks me. "Everyone's family here."

A grin of my own sneaks onto my face as I take a little step toward Henry and wrap my arms around his middle.

Henry's arms latch around my body, shielding me from the moist, heavy air of Nockfell and anything else that could possibly hurt me here. His embrace is so comforting, so familiar, so protective that tears I've been holding back for weeks suddenly rush to the surface.

I love my own dad, he's perfect, but being hugged by his near doppelgänger reminds me of how much I miss him. I wish dad and I weren't apart so often. But that'll change soon with the money I'm making.

I don't allow myself to weep, I hide the tears and pull away from the comforting hug I needed so desperately to smile sweetly at Henry. Lovely man, his own smile widens.

The group of us piles into Henry's old 2000 Nissan Pathfinder to navigate around Nockfell.

We first stop at Ash's place-- a home I haven't seen in a decade now. Everything is so nostalgic-- the tall, two story, white-painted, wooden home and the canopy of evil-looking trees that hide it from the road reminds me of a time that's been ripped away from me.

Ash leans on the door of Henry's SUV, the window down for her to speak to me before she disappears. "I'll come by Sal's or the apartments later to scoop you up, 'kay? Parents and I have a meeting with some guys to transfer ownership of some things to me before the move." She chews on her lip, a deep yearning in her pretty eyes. "I'd let you stay with me if I could."

I shake my head at her-- I don't want her to feel guilty for handling business. "No that's okay." I tell her sweetly, grabbing onto her hand. "I'll kickback with the guys."

Ash smiles, squeezing my hand in hers before breaking off to head to her house.

Now, I never imagined I'd end up coming back to Nockfell in general, but to stand in Sal Fisher's home? These were even more improbable odds.

And worse, Todd suddenly slips out of the house with the very mean (he's ditching me!) excuse of meeting with Neil for a late lunch. That just leaves me, Larry, and Sal standing in the spacious kitchen of their shared two-story home. It's quaint, roomy, and pretty nice. I imagine it's kept up specifically because Sal tends to it.

And Sal, he doesn't say anything. Which is typical behavior from him. He only, swiftly, spins on his heels, luggage in hand, and disappears into a room right past the stairs. Okay, fair. It's late in the afternoon-- naptime.

And now it's down to two.

I look to Larry with a grin. And he's grinning back excitedly, wiggling around like an antsy child who's about to go on a field trip.

"I can't believe we managed to get you over here," he whisper-yells, screaming silently. You know, just open-mouthed and head tipped to the ceiling in pure excitement.

"Even Copernicus wouldn't be able to debunk this turn of events," I joke, watching Larry dance around his kitchen. I put my bags down. I'm sure we'll figure out this situation later when Ash returns.

Larry opens up his refrigerator, moving around some bottles before uttering an expletive. "Ah, fuck," he hisses out, quickly lifting his head which results in him slamming said head into the freezer door. I pause, wincing, eyeing his silhouette warily while awaiting whatever he has to say next.

He resurfaces from the fridge, rubbing his aching head and chewing on his bottom lip. "I left my fucking bags in Henry's car." He curses again, glancing up at me with agitated eyes. "I have to run over to the apartments real quick." Larry starts inching away from the fridge and I feel my heart leap. How could he forget his luggage in the car? And is he really about to leave me here with the master of aggressive seduction himself? We're bound to tear this house apart either via sex or a physical fight. I just don't know which one.

"I'll be like... ten minutes at most," Lar says, squeezing past me and around the kitchen table, rerouting to the front door. He gives me a look that screams vulnerability and urgency. "Please don't kill Sal, and don't let him kill you. Okay? I'll be back in a jiffy."

I blink at him, running my tongue along the inside of my dry mouth. This is not going to go well. "Okay," I say anyway. I can already see the headline on the newspaper-- 'Masked Streamer, Sally Face, Brutally Murders and Chops Up Rising Streamer, VioletViolence, With Kitchen Knife.'

Larry nods at me, pinches his lips together in a moment of concerned hesitation, then disappears through the front door.

I stand in the empty kitchen for a moment, watching the back of Larry's head through the front door window. "In a jiffy..." I murmur to myself, recalling the most soccer-mom words I've ever heard come from Larry's vicinity. It was so odd, I mean he would never say something like that, but here we are.

The house is empty aside from myself and Sal. What the hell am I supposed to do? Watch The Office?-- well, that actually doesn't sound bad at all.

I can literally do anything I want, though. I have been given the most opportune opportunity to act upon my will as I see fit. With that in mind accompanied by the suspiciously good conversation a certain blue-haired individual and I shared on the plane, I think I have an idea of what I could do. And I know I'll have a willing partner. 

This will either end in a homicide via kitchen knife or an orgasm. I'll take my chances.

A sly little grin fights its way onto my lips as I spin on my heels, trekking over to Sal's room. His door is closed, giving him an ample amount of darkness to hide in while gaming or sleeping or whatever he's doing. But for me, it's the ample amount of darkness to create a moody setting. It's perfect.

The cold, metal doorknob sits comfortably in the palm of my hand as I give myself one last chance to think about this. I really shouldn't do this, but the timing will never be this good again. With everyone moving to LA, I may never get a chance this convenient since someone will always be around.

That's the last little bit of encouragement I need to twist the knob and slowly push the plain, white painted door open.

The wood squeaks on its hinges, making Sal turn his head up from his PC. His dark, shadowed eyes meet mine. They go from curious to a bit miffed in half a second— but he doesn't say anything, really just ignores me and turns back to his setup.

My heart races. He didn't turn me away or tell me to get the fuck out of his room. That's a good start. But that also means I can actually follow through with my very sudden plan— a plan which has no plan. I didn't even brainstorm what I could do because I genuinely didn't think I'd get this far.

I watch him closely, noting the way his computer casts a cool, blue glow against his prosthetic. His hand moves the mouse around and he clicks on various things, really paying me no mind at all.

My teeth clamp onto my bottom lip as I step past the threshold of his room, grabbing hold of the door and slowly closing it behind me. Once it latches into place, I wait, simply observing the man with my back to the door. For good measure, I turn the lock. You know, just in case I manage to get somewhere.

And he still doesn't look my way. The fact that he's ignoring my presence right now makes anticipation build up within me. My heart thumps a little faster than it already has been. My cheeks feel warm, I can't keep my hands still. It's like my brain is kicked into overdrive, forcing me to take notice of every little thing.

I lick my lips and take a step forward, scratching at the skin on my knuckles. I take another step, then another, my body growing warm with anxiousness all because I may stand in front of this man, present myself to him, and come to regret it. I really might embarrass myself. Just because we agreed doesn't mean he wants me at this exact moment.

But before I'm even really prepared, I'm standing right beside him. And he's sitting there without a care in the world, comfortably propped up in his gaming chair and pulling up different comments on what looks to be YouTube.

I've done about all I can for right now, but we are on limited time. So I watch him for a moment. He has to know I'm right here— I wasn't quiet, I didn't avoid his field of vision. I'm right here.

And I still get nothing.

Time to think. Should I say something insulting? That usually gets him riled up. Maybe then, one thing will lead to another.

I bounce on my heels for a second as I think up a quick insult. "Is this how you waste your time? Figured you'd at least reply to some of your fans if you were going to read their comments. Kinda shitty of you." Low blow probably. I don't really mean it, but I'm sure he'll take it seriously. His fans mean a lot to him, it's the best way to gain his attention.

But Sal doesn't even react, only scrolls through a few replies under a comment and clicks 'like' on a some. He doesn't flinch. Doesn't look at me. Never makes a sound.

I roll my eyes. Playing hard to get are we? He fusses at me for not complying all the time— he's such a hypocritical asshole. I hate that I'm into it.

I swallow thickly, putting my hands behind my back to try and hide my nervous fidgeting. "Sal," I try, cringing a bit. That was desperation— he has to know that.

Again, nothing.

He really must be trying to piss me off, that or he isn't interested at all. But thankfully, the zero interest half doesn't stink like I was afraid it would. Instead, it spurs me into action.

He can ignore my words all he wants, but he can't ignore me.

"I'm going to touch you," I warn because consent is important. "If you don't want that, you need to tell me."

I wait a good thirty seconds but he stays silent.

I pinch my lips together then grab onto the armrest of his chair, pulling it back just enough to place my body between him and his computer. He simply looks up at me with disinterested eyes, so I go further, fueled by the spark in my soul and the rage of him purposefully pretending I'm not even there.

I take a step forward and put a gentle hand on his shoulder for balance, then easily slide myself onto his lap. His thighs are warm beneath my own, his skin smooth under my fingertips. The dark ink on his biceps contrasts beautifully with the milky color of his skin and it's quite an honor to finally run my hands over his art.

I watch the way my fingers drag down his arm then up again, returning to his shoulder. I'm on top of him and he still hasn't said a word, still hasn't touched me. At this point, I'm yearning for something— anything.

The only good sign I'm getting is that he hasn't pushed me off.

I glance up, looking into his blue eyes that are darkened by the shadows of his room. They're watching me closely, no ounce of emotion reflected in them. He's just observing.

My other hand travels to his prosthetic face, gripping onto his jaw in the way that he does to me so often. "Think you can ignore me?" I whisper, a little smirk quirking my lips despite how badly I wish I could contain it.

A slight furrowing of his brows is what I get in return.

Ha, got him.

He still doesn't say anything, but I've piqued his interest at least.

"Larry's gone," I say next, my eyes traveling to the rough prosthetic in my hands. I run my thumb over the underside of his jaw, feeling a number of scars.

"I assumed so," he says, voice a bit deeper than it normally would be and toneless like it seems to have been all day.

My gaze meets his again, and this time there's a little fire in his pretty eyes. There's desire, interest, slow-building exhilaration. I love seeing this look on him.

"Mhm," I hum, moving my other hand from his shoulder to the side of his neck. "Are you going to sit here and ignore me like the asshole you are, or are you going to have mercy on both of us?"

Sal slowly blinks, eyes traveling over my form, drinking me in like I'm the last drop of water on earth. "You called me an asshole for a reason," he bites out. "Don't expect much. Unlike you, I can actually hold out."

"But what's the point of holding out?" I counter, tilting my head to the left. "Larry's heading to the apartments. We have about ten minutes. That's enough room for one of a couple options. Stop being a little prick and do something."

"More like twenty. Larry takes his sweet ass time." Sal's eyes narrow. "You think insulting me is going to coerce me into this, you little bitch? Thought you knew our dynamic well enough by now." My words are getting to him. That's exactly what I want.

"I do know our dynamic," I whisper, leaning my head down so that my face is level with his. I look into his cerulean eyes and they gaze back at me, one pupil dilated. Then, I bend lower until I'm at the nape of his neck, his hair tickling my jaw.

I use the hand holding his face to tilt his head up and away from me, using the angle as leverage to place my lips onto his warm skin.

I hear a muffled sigh from him in response and it takes everything in me not to smile.

My mouth moves slowly along the side of his neck, placing meaningful, wet kisses along his throat. But when I get to the hilt of his tattoo, I bit down gently.

He flinches at the feeling of my teeth digging into his skin, then completely aborts his mission to ignore me completely.

Sal's hands fly to my waist, one gripping tightly onto my hip and the other trailing up my back and into my hair, gripping the strands tightly before yanking my head back.

My teeth are ripped from his neck immediately and Sal pulls me away from him by the base of my neck. I gasp, staring into his captivating azure eyes from just centimeters away. His prosthetic nose bumps my mask's and he holds me there without a word.

His eyes trail down my face and heavy breaths follow his gaze. His cold fingers are curled into my neck, his nails digging into my skin.

I swallow, wondering if maybe I should have just minded my own business, stayed in the living room and waited for Larry to come back. Maybe I pissed him off.

I lick my lips and blink at him, my mouth gapes open as I try to find something to say. He's silent. It's not awkward, just scary. Scary is ten times worse.

Sal must see the regret and fear in my eyes because his own eyes lessen their harsh glare a bit and then he rasps out, "Can I touch you?"

Every inch of my body goes rigid with shock, anticipation. "Yes," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. My fingers tighten ever so slightly on the underside of his jaw while my heart runs an entire marathon in my chest. Now is not the time to get nervous because I sweat when I'm nervous. I need to be horny– not nervous.

Sal takes a deep breath, eyes set on mine. I feel his chest rise ever so slowly, then go back down the same exact way. The pause between us is utter agony and I feel like I'm going to start spazzing out or something. Honestly, with the way I'm sitting on top of him, I might just fall over and die on the spot. That feels less incriminating than whatever is about to ensue.

Cool fingers grasp onto my thigh, his palm flattening against my skin. His hand drags up to my side, followed by his other hand leaving my neck to grab the other side of my waist. The feeling of him touching me, just like he'd asked, fills me with memories I tried so desperately to forget just a couple weeks or so ago. This is deja vu in the best way.

In one swift motion, Sal lifts me up and plops me on top of his desk. I brace myself with my hands on either side of his keyboard that lays behind me. Questions of concern start flowing through my brain because this is an odd place to be.

"Don't knock over my shit," Sal breathlessly informs, eyes glancing up to me. HIs hands move to the waist band of my bottoms and I suck in another anxious, anticipatory breath.

I nod quickly, watching him with wide eyes as he looks down at my waist, his hands circling to the front of my stomach and fumbling with the button of my shorts. Oh my gosh.

I gulp, looking at anything but the man between my legs, currently pulling down the shorts I'd traveled in. His cold fingers brush along the outside of my thighs, causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin. He's slow, purposeful, dragging this out to get whatever reaction out of me that he can. It feels like my heart is about to explode.

I have no idea what he's about to do, he doesn't warn me either. I don't have the guts to watch this scene play out. The prospect of his dilated pupils, messy hair, and that glare in his captivating eyes is too much-- so much that warmth pools between my thighs before he can initiate anything.

"You look scared," he murmurs and I flinch at the gentle, comforting tone he uses with me. I've never heard something such as this come from him and be directed at mebefore.

"I am," I answer honestly, licking my lips while his fingers slowly pull my shorts down my legs. I lift myself a bit to aid him, shivering when my bare legs meet the cold surface of his desk. "A bit."

"Why?" Sal asks, hands pressing onto my thighs. With how warm my skin is and how cool his fingers are, the contrasting temperature is enough to spark an aneurysm. He drags those hands of his up my legs until he reaches my panties, hooking his digits into them.

I shake my head, chin quite literally tilted up to the ceiling. I'm not quite sure what has me so scared. Am I afraid of myself? Him? Getting caught? Being dropped again?

One risky hand leaves my hip and Sal's prosthetic comes into view. He's hovering over me, in a standing position now. His hair falls onto my shoulders, shielding us from the rest of the world like a curtain. I blink up at him, breath caught in my throat as a rush of chills invades my body.

"Hey," he says. His voice is a bit on edge, but it's concerned. So concerned that it distracts me from my own fear for a moment. "You're okay," he continues, his hand gripping onto my chin and pulling my head down so we can be eye level. I look between his bright eyes-- his eyebrows are risen a bit, as if to communicate to me that I can trust him. But can I?

"I'll take care of you. If you want to stop, if you don't want to start-- let me know. Say anything and I'll end it immediately." He tilts his head a bit, eyes glancing over my face. This is different. This looks vulnerable. "If I made you uncomfortable at all, I--"

My head shakes in opposition. I don't even have to think about it. "No, it's not that. It-- I trust you." The words spew out of my mouth and I immediately regret it. Something smug takes over his expression and I press my lips together, grabbing onto his wrist connected to the hand that's still holding my chin. "I trust you with this. If I was tied to train tracks, I wouldn't even think of calling you." I narrow my eyes at him to exemplify my point. His eyes squint as if he's... smiling? I'll ignore that. "But you've never... made me uncomfortable. You always ask. You always check. So..."

I watch him nod slowly, our gazes never disconnecting. He seems to contemplate what I've said, measurably formulating his next move. "Do you want to talk about what's stressing you then?"

My head rears back and my eyebrows furrow, his hand falling away from my face. "What brain eating amoeba has overtaken you?" I blurt out, holding a hand out between us. It's incredibly odd-- this is out of place. "You are never concerned about me-- what is this?"

If you can't tell, I'm not a fan of change. I greatly prefer stability even if it's toxic.

Sal drops the caring act almost immediately, his eyes rolling so hard that I'm worried they'll sink into his body. "I can't go down on you if you're freaked, can I? I wouldn't even feel comfortable doing that. I'm an asshole, not a monster."

I pause, every facial feature relaxing as his statement slaps me in the face. Key words: go, down, on, you, asshole, monster. Yep, only monstrous assholes go down on their enemies. I'm the very brave, very eager, very shocked recipient of this going down.

I take a deep, shaky breath, blinking at Sal who watches me with what looks like a raised eyebrow. "Okay," I breathlessly whisper. "How are you-- are you..." Why am I rambling? What kind of answer am I looking for? Obviously the prosthetic is about to come off and I just have to contain the desperate, whore-like rage within.

"Shut up, Vi," he chuckles over my nickname, grabbing onto my thighs and tugging me to the edge of the desk as he sits in his chair again. My fingertips press into the wooden surface while my heart threatens to pound its way through my ribcage. "Just let me taste you."

Cue internal screaming. I'm so going to faint-- and the addition of watching his pretty guitar-playing hands leave my skin to unbuckle his prosthetic is pushing me to astronomical heights. I don't even exist anymore. I'm just a wisp, a little phantom fairy watching her favorite sex movie play out in real time. It's called Faceless Fixation. She's the Fellatio Fairy. I don't even-- whoever is writing my life needs to give me a break.

I'm shivering like I have hypothermia by the time Sal carefully pulls the prosthetic off his face, making sure to not mess up his hair. And then he glances up at me. Bright eyes hesitant, sort of wide. Eyebrows risen just a bit and lips pressed together like he wants to say a thousand things but can't. He looks so nervous and it's a moment we can both share.

For reassurance (I think we both need it) I smile at him. Just a slight upward tilt of my lips as I press my thighs together. He's so beautiful. Every scar, every indentation, every feature, every little freckle. Just wow-- he's a sight to behold.

Sal's gaze flits to my lips, then down to my legs and he grabs onto them again, purposefully pulling them apart. His black polished nails dig into my skin as he gazes down at my underwear. I'm so used to watching his reactions and feelings portrayed only through his eyes, but watching the way his jaw tenses and the moment his lips part like he can't wait any longer makes me feel like I'll implode. 

His fingers run up my legs to my hips, dipping into my panties and pulling them downward. I gulp over the sight, relishing in the deja vu. How kind of him to not rip these this time. 

I lift myself up as he shimmies them down my legs, finally pulling them from around my ankles and holding them up for me to see. I blink, warmth rushing to my face at his boldness. And Sal, well-pleased, quirks a little seductive smile at them before switching his gaze to me.

"I haven't even touched you and you're soaked," is what he murmurs, eyes dancing over my half naked body with very little focus on my face. It's like he's glued to what hides behind my clenched thighs, eagerly awaiting what he'll find between them. "You're inflating my ego way too much," his voice is a bit louder this time-- darker, more sinister. The pronunciation of his words shows off charming, slightly crooked front teeth and sharp canines. I'll never know how I haven't ascended already.

I shiver, trying and failing to hide my reaction. But it doesn't really matter, seeing as Sal caught onto it anyway and his hooded eyes are on mine, a dangerous glint clashing with the hypnotizing azure shade of his irises. 

His hands are on my legs again, fingers roughly squeezing my skin. He isn't putting off his plans again though. When he separates my legs and I try my best not to push him away out of fear, Sal leans forward and presses his lips to the inside of my left thigh.

I take a deep, shuddering breath as I bathe in the feeling of his soft, jagged lips moving along my sensitive skin. I commit the image to memory, absolutely astonished over the way his blue eyes are closed while he inches closer and closer to my pussy.

I'm unable to take a full breath at this point, my body is tense while I try to hold myself in an upright position, pathetically falling apart as his mouth dances along the inside of my thigh like he's studied and perfected each step he takes. His hands are molded into my skin, they've become a part of me. He's pressing my thigh up to his face, leaving the most inebriating kisses. I wish he would stop teasing me already.

At the same time, I'm obsessed with the way he's handling me. Delicately, carefully, but he's in full control and making me wait. Testing me. Seeing if I'll push him, hoping I'll give him a good reason to punish me.

Sal's eyes open again, glancing up to meet mine. I suck in a breath, watching as he opens that dirty mouth of his and bites into the sensitive skin at the top of my thigh.

I hiss, wincing at the slight pain but my eyes never leave his. They could never. And he loves that, takes it as a challenge because those sky blue eyes close and he bites down harder, sucking my skin into his mouth to leave his mark. 

Some kind of satisfied, sickeningly delighted feeling swells in my chest at the knowledge of having a mark from him on my body. It's primal, it's a little weird, but I adore the idea and maybe he does too. After what he said to me about North on the flight to Nockfell, I'd guess he's more than happy to stake his claim even if it's invisible to the outside world. 

Sal finally pulls his teeth from my leg, revealing a gnarly, dark purple mark in his wake. He places a quick, soothing kiss to the abused skin before trailing his way closer to my pussy. He masks his destination with more wet kisses and bites and I'm so worked up by now that a light sheen of sweat has formed on my forehead. I can't be doing this-- this is complete torture.

"Sal," I groan out, flinching at the sinful tone of my voice. It makes him pause his movements as well. "Please," I tack on, the word quiet and agonizingly pleading.

He hums against my skin, eyes zeroed in on mine. I hate being so direct, it's terrifying, but it's worth it if it'll end up with his tongue buried in me, right? 

"Beg for it," he says lowly, a slight rasp to his voice. His tone makes me shiver, as well as his words and I would drop to my hands and knees if he told me to right now.

My lips part upon hearing him and I release a shaky breath, thighs drawing together until he stops them with his tight grip. My heart is running a marathon, my limbs are trembling and I'm wondering if maybe this is all just a really awesome dream.

"Please," I repeat, voice coming out as a whine. For once, I don't regret it because this is what he wants. "I'm desperate." I don't know how else to portray to him that I need this-- the wait is nearly excruciating. "I need to feel you."

Sal pulls away from my skin, tongue lapping at all of his bite marks before a sadistic smile pulls at his lips. "How much do you hate me?" And he's waiting, waiting for a wordy explanation of my distaste for him. But now, with the way things have changed between us-- even if it's slightly-- describing my loathing somehow feels harder.

So I snort, trying to coerce him into putting his mouth on me again regardless of the location. But all the shivers, waiting, and very slow building orgasm is slipping away into the distance. "A lot," I whisper shakily.

He gives me a look, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together as if I've disappointed him. "You can do better than that, Vi. Where's the fire?" He leans toward the thigh he hasn't captured with his mouth yet and skims his teeth along my skin. "Should I give you an example?"

I lick my lips, a sudden fluttering in my chest making me feel light headed. I hesitantly shake my head-- the longer he isn't paying attention to me, the farther I am from cumming. I can come up with something to say can't I? Of course I can. He's infuriating enough.

"Alright then," he mumbles monotonously, finally ditching my thighs. He yanks me a bit closer, eyes still rifling through my soul. "Then tell me. And if you stop," he warns as I swallow against the pounding in my chest due to his positioning, face mere inches from my sopping cunt. He's dragged this on long enough. "I stop. Keep that filthy mouth of yours moving."

He waits for me to launch into a monologue of detest. His mouth so close to my clit, breath tickling my skin and forcing a quiet little whimper from me. 

"I fucking hate the constant foul mood you're always in," I force out, feeling my heart leap into my throat the second the words leave my mouth. Because Sal keeps his promise and with an inebriating grunt of approval, he finally attaches his lips to my clit, tongue running over it like he's desperate to soak up every inch of what I have to offer.

The feeling of his mouth on my pussy is incomparable to any other type of satisfaction in the world-- this is what I've waited for. And he happily makes up for the lost time, expertly flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves and sucking it farther into his mouth. He moans against my cunt, hands dragging up my thighs to cup my ass and force me even closer to him. He squeezes my skin, a reminder to keep talking.

I dig up all the things I can't stand about him, slathering them across my brain so I can tell him about it. "You're a brick wall. No matter what I say, you refuse to listen. How come you're never open to hearing anyone out?" I whimper between words, squirming around on his desk and trying my damn hardest not to ruin any of his belongings.

Sal lifts my legs over his arms, pushing them onto his shoulders and I swear I'm about to combust. The way his tongue maps figure eights and circles around my clit does nothing to help, only sends me further toward falling apart.

I squeeze my eyes shut, fingers curling over the edge of his desk, heavy breaths and quiet moans falling past my lips no matter how badly I wish I could keep them inside. "You have some kind of God complex. You think you're right about everything, have to be in control of everything and I can't stand it. I can't stand you and your constant need to have everything you want."

His teeth graze over my clit and my mouth falls open, waves of pleasure rolling through my body like I've never experienced before. He moves downward, his tongue buried between my folds and licking up every bit of my arousal that he can get. Upon getting a better taste of me, he moans and I can feel the vibration of it everywhere, all the way up to my fingertips.

"I hate how easily you turn me on, how wet I get just from a simple touch," I admit, teeth clamping down onto my bottom lip as his tongue explores the inside of my pussy like he's been starved of me for far too long. His nails dig into my skin, the action eliciting a stinging sensation that only adds to the pleasure he's giving me. This is everything. "And you're so unfair. So pretty, so damn attractive with that horrible personality of yours. Why can't you be pretty through and through?"

I open my eyes again to watch him, drowning in the prospect of his face buried between my thighs, cheeks flushed and hair a mess. I watch as he drags his mouth up to my clit again, drawing patterns and shapes I don't care to know over the bundle of nerves. The rough, slick feeling of his tongue on such a sensitive place is addicting. So long as he's around to bring me to new heights like this, I don't need anything else. Maslow's hierarchy of needs has never been so wrong-- this is my sole need.

I can't help myself-- I reach a hand out, my fingers burying themselves into Sal's hair. It's soft. Just as soft as I knew it would be. And he doesn't seem to mind, only continues to suck on my clit and abuse it with his tongue. I close my hand into a fist, lightly tugging on his hair. I need something to hold onto.

"And your stupid fucking mouth," I groan out, sucking in a breath that never fully fills my lungs. His tongue dips into my pussy again, making another little groan follow my first. My thighs are clenched tightly at this point, quaking furiously. Sal never tries to stop me, doesn't calm me. It's clear how much he enjoys bringing me to ruin. "All the awful things you say, so many dirty words and you are so good with your tongue. I've never craved and loathed something so much in my life." 

Sal smiles against my pussy-- I watch in pure amazement as the corners of his lips curl upward like what I said was everything he's always wanted to hear. It's so lewd, so perverted and I absolutely will never forget this moment.

One of his hands lets go of my ass, trailing down my thigh again but moving to the inside this time. As his teeth gently nip at my clit and his tongue laps at my pussy, the tips of his fingers press against my opening, a silent request for more of my profession of hatred. A profession I'm more than happy to give him.

"I can't imagine how much I'll hate the way you fuck me just because I know it'll be better than any sex I've had before," I tell him, watching his mouth move against my cunt with furrowed brows and my lips parted in intrigue. Oh, he's so good at what he does. 

Sal's eyes meet mine again. Eye contact with him when he's in such an erotic position is incredibly intense. I feel like my entire body is going to crumple before he can finish me off and it all counts on if he's able to hold me up or not. But as soon as his cerulean gaze meets mine, two of his fingers sink into me. The action is slow, drawn out, and drags a nasty moan out of me in turn.

Sal whimpers against my pussy, taking care of me like he promised he would. When his fingers reach as far as they can go, he curls them, causing me to flinch at the sensuous feeling. There's so much going on to the point that every inch of my body feels impossibly overwhelmed. 

My sensitive clit gets sucked into Sal's mouth again, but then he pulls away. His fingers make up for the absence of his tongue, pounding into me in the same salacious way he's done before.

"Is that all you've got?" he grumbles breathlessly, glazed eyes glaring into mine. This is the expression I'm used to with him-- anger and dominance. 

I choke on the breath I try to take, my thighs pressing into his neck as his fingers slam in and out of my soaked cunt, digits only pausing their relentless pace to curl into me. I try to fight against my one working brain cell, try to form words for him, but-- "I can't." is all that I'm able to create, the two short words coming out as an imploring cry.

Sal stands, finger-fucking me into an alternate dimension. He hovers over me, his hair brushing my shoulders and neck. I watch him, an absolute mess beneath him but I can't look away-- even through the panting breaths that morph into whimpers and moans. 

His eyes glance between mine, seemingly contemplating something in that meticulous mind of his.

"Yea, you can, gorgeous," he grinds out behind clenched teeth, using the hand that's gripping my ass to press me against his chest. Our even closer proximity somehow forces his fingers deeper into my pussy, his thumb rubbing my clit. "Tell me more." My mouth is dry, I'm going to cum soon, and hopefully I don't actually fall over before that.

Sal takes a page out of my book, leaning closer to me and nipping at the skin of my throat. A little gasp falls past my lips and I finally let go of his hair, dragging my hand down to his neck. Those fingers work me to the core, never ceasing their movements and pushing into me with so much perfectly applied force. 

His mouth moves along the side of my neck, his lips still wet from my juices. I have no idea what gave him the confidence, but I'm not mad. Everything that couldn't be done with his prosthetic can be done now and he's taking advantage of it. "Speak," he snaps, tone not so gentle or comforting like it was when this first began. "Or else."

My mind is blank. "I'm about to cum," I begrudgingly whisper, completely overtaken by his fingers thrusting into me and his thumb focused on my oversensitive clit.

I shut my eyes, my free arm wrapping around his shoulders. Every inch of my body is tense, senses heightened and alert. I don't think I can possibly hold on any longer-- I doubt Sal needed my confirmation to tell that I'm close.

His digits curl into me again, repeating the action. I follow up with a loud whimper, my nails digging into the skin of his neck as he sucks on the skin behind my ear. I wish he'd have ditched the prosthetic sooner because I've really been missing out.

The hand still gripping onto my butt retreats to my stomach, fingers disappearing under my shirt and crawling across my ribs to my bra. He treats it as if it isn't even there, hand easily dipping beneath the fabric. His palm envelops my breast, squeezing gently and massaging the skin. It's such a considerate touch compared to the way he treats the rest of my body-- he knows exactly where the sweet spots are. 

"Cum," he commands, lips brushing the shell of my ear and fingers pounding into my sore cunt, thumb running over my hardened nipple.

My head drops onto his shoulder and with one more curl of his fingers, I do as he says and fall apart in his arms. I burst almost instantly, doing anything to keep myself silent over the feeling of his fingers gently caressing the inside of my pussy, riding me through my orgasm just like he did the first time. My teeth sink into his shoulder, a muffled whimper following soon after. Sal tenses up in my arms, a pleasured breath falling from his mouth and fanning over the side of my neck.

"Good girl," he purrs into my ear, lips skimming over the warm skin at my throat. He leaves one more sloppy kiss to my neck then pulls away to look into my eyes again. I can hardly hear anything he says as my teeth are forced away from his shoulder, still reeling from the orgasm that slammed into me nearly unannounced. My limbs feel like jelly as chills run up my spine. "You listen to me so well," he continues. I can't even look into his eyes; I just watch the way his lips move. How his tongue presses into the back of his teeth to pronounce a syllable. His sharp canines that undoubtedly left their own bruises on my skin. 

I gulp, unable to peel my eyes away from the mouth that masterfully brought me to climax. For the first time ever, I wonder what his mouth would feel like against mine. How soft his scarred lips would feel, not on my skin, but captured by my own. What his tongue would taste like. What his teeth would feel like nipping at my lips. 

Sal doesn't move away from me-- keeps our close proximity with his nose nearly brushing my mask's. He slowly, delicately pulls his fingers out of me but only continues to gaze into my eyes.

This is dangerous territory. Very dangerous. Because the impossible is coursing through me right now and I... somehow can't find it in me to hate him in this exact moment.

But then he blinks. Stands to his full height, moving away from me. His azure gaze turns to the desk I'm sitting on and he grabs my panties, offering them to me. Not an ounce of emotion evident on his face. I'd always wondered what he'd look like simply because I was curious if his face gave away his emotions better than his eyes could. It's pretty impressive how he's able to keep a straight mug though, RBF and all. Especially when he lifts the hand he fingered me with to his mouth and licks my cum off. He doesn't even look at me as his tongue runs up the length of his digit, just turns away from me and walks to the other side of the room.

I'm floored, jaw dropped and pussy wet. Again. That's really fucking hot.

I watch him strut away, follow his movements as he drops to his haunches and opens up his suitcase with his clean hand. He grabs something then faces me again, beginning to walk back with a finger still in his mouth.

My chest tightens at the sight. He can't be doing this to me. Not when Larry is going to be home any minute-- he needs to keep both his hands at his sides.

Thankfully, Sal has some mercy on me and finally finishes cleaning his fingers, eyes darting up to mine again. He walks up to me, right where I'm still sitting on top of his desk and drops fabric onto my bare thighs.

My brows furrow and I look down, grabbing lace. I lift it up, unfolding it to see that it's a near replica of the lace underwear he'd ripped off of me in Vegas. Only it's a completely brand new pair. No rips, no issues. My heart swells a bit at the gesture-- he bought a new pair like I'd told him to. I wasn't even serious, but he did it anyway.

I puff out my cheeks, contemplating what to say. Thank you's are virtually nonexistent between us. My eyes flit up to meet his again and he stuffs his hands into his pockets, watching me.

"You taste good," he nonchalantly comments, causing an infuriating blush to heat my cheeks.

"Thanks," I murmur, holding up the lace panties to show that I'm thankful for them too. "You taste pretty good too." He does. I'll have to return the favor to him when I get the chance.

A barely audible snort comes from him and I almost smile. 

"I'd fuck you, but Larry will be back any minute and Ash probably isn't far behind him," he says, turning on his heel and walking toward the door. "I suggest you put your clothes back on. Panties are clean, I washed them."

My eyebrows raise and I pinch my lips together. Huh. "How kind of you," I say half sarcastically. Only half because it's helpful that they are clean-- it's almost like he knew he'd place me in a predicament where I needed fresh underwear. "You trying to kick me out?" I add. Of course he is, I'm just trying to make my way out of here as awkward-less as possible.

"Hell yea," he says proudly, "I have shit to do."

"Are you calling me a distraction?" I ask, looking toward him as I shimmy my underwear and shorts up my legs then start working on the button.

Sal tilts his head, hand on the doorknob. "And a mild aggravation."

"Oh, wow," I gasp, feigning surprise. "Mild? I must be working my way onto your good side."

"Fuck me good enough and we'll see how far you get," he replies, eyes watching my every move but face still unreadable as I begin walking toward him. 

I roll my eyes. Of course. I pinch my lips together and give him a disinterested look. This is my lesson to never try to have a casual conversation with him again. He clearly doesn't want it, which, fair. Our agreement is sex, not friendship. "Okay," I say dramatically when he opens the door for me. "Bye, Sal."

The man nods his head, acknowledging the shift in the room. His eyes stay glued to mine like they have been the entire time I've been here. Now that I'm not distracted by his mouth on my pussy, I realize that this is an odd thing for him to do. He looks at me every once in a while, but not in such a... scrutinizing way. 

He purses his lips and says, "Bye, y/n."

Every nerve-ending in my body suddenly shuts off. Everything is still. I have no thoughts for a moment, no physical reaction. Just stillness. I don't breathe, I don't move. I just watch him.

There's no way— he has to have mixed up my names. It has to be that.

And then everything hits me. Sal Fisher just said my name. And not the fake one that I've been hiding behind. He said my actual name— the one that's on my birth certificate. And now my hands are shaking, my heart is racing, my breaths are uneven, and I feel like I'm going to throw up.

"What the fuck," I say shakily. I'm not ready for this. I'm going to completely switch his thought process around-- "did you just say?"

The look in his eyes changes, they light up a bit as if he's caught me. And still he decides to mess with me. "Huh?" he innocently asks.

Okay, I'd really like to wake up now.

My eyes narrow. So that's the game he wants to play? This isn't the time and I don't have the mental capacity to handle this. Not only am I recovering from a mind-blowing orgasm, but I was just getting over the overwhelming anxiety I suffered from yesterday.

"I'm not y/n, if that's what you're thinking," I rush to tell him, even adding in the fakest little smirk I've ever slapped onto my face. Anything to get him off my tail, whatever I can think of to save my ass. This really can't be happening to me.

He's still watching me speculatively and it's making my brain itch. "You know," he finally starts, voice disgustingly pleased. "I went out on a limb with that one." I watch in horror as a little smirk begins to grow on his face. I don't want to accept it yet, I really don't, but I think I'm fucked and not physically. 

At the end of the day, he's still managed to fuck me in multiple ways. I cannot stand Sal Fisher.

"What are you even talking about?" I ask him, clearing my throat quietly while taking a safe step out of his door and into the living room. I try my best to keep my eyes on him while extinguishing the fear from my gaze. If I act horrified, he'll sniff me out instantly. That is, if he hasn't already.

Sal chuckles deeply— it's, shockingly, an amused and prideful one rather than something sick, dark, and twisted. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. I try my best not to adore the way his scars stretch with his laugh and the sight of his pretty teeth. "Any other woman would have assumed I was sleeping with someone else if I called them by another name," he says lightheartedly, tilting his head down a bit. "But you didn't. And that can only mean that I'm right."

I open my mouth to decline, fear thrumming through me. He caught me red handed. I can't fucking believe this.

"And don't try to deny it, you won't change my mind. I've been very sure of who you are for months now."

My head slowly begins to shake of its own accord. He never fails to shock me. "How..."

Sal shrugs. "You couldn't have timed your introduction more horrendously. Think about it," he says, chewing on his bottom lip. "I bitch at y/n over a phone call, then the next day, a wild VioletViolence pops into my life and isn't too surprised by my shitty personality. The second you were added to the Discord server, I had my suspicions." He shrugs nonchalantly, like the confirmation doesn't bother him in the slightest. "I talked it over with Larry and Todd too. They're pretty sure of your identity as well. They were just nice enough to wait for you to tell us on your own." His eyes narrow, sly like a fox. "But I'm not nice and wanted to know for myself. Wanted to scare you a bit too."

I swallow over the bile rising in my throat. Scare me, he did. I have no idea what to do with myself. I must look like a deer in headlights nearing its death sentence. "It... it doesn't bother you?" I decide to ask in a small voice, unable to blink as I watch him closely.

That same smug little smile is still lighting up his marred face as he says, "Regardless, I still can't stand you and I'll still fuck you stupid."

-----------

A/N::::::: OMFFGGGGG I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS CHAPTER FOR AGESSSSSS PLEASE!!! more specifically the end of it! i've had this last scene written since like... 2022 o_O 

i want to give a HUGE thanks to my very good friend, Phoebe, who inspired me to write the catalyst of the smut scene with this AMAZING piece of art that they drew :3 i am soooo so grateful for having the opportunity to see the art in general, but getting to write it too??? OMG so incredibly grateful <33

side note: this is my first time writing a smut scene like this one-- well, actually any time i write a different kind of sex it's new for me LMFAO i am exploring EVERYTHINGGGG and i also have no idea if this is any good. so like last chapter, if y'all could give me some tips or things you like and didn't like, i would GREATLY appreciate it :3

i'm going catch up on my neglected homework. as always, have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night. my heart belongs to all of you <3

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

i am a SUCKER for Dad Joel. was thinking maybe a pre pandemic story where reader and joel are trying for another child but cant so they adopt ellie (bc let's face it sarah and ellie would have ruled the world together)

*absolutly love your work babes 💕*

Thank you so much, darling! I'm glad you've been enjoying it. I did just melt my own heart writing this. 🤍🥺😭

I feel like it would be solid two years after the wedding. You had started trying even way before that but it never worked. No matter what you tried and trust me on it you two tried everything. Joel spent his breaks flipping through different magazines and books looking for any new ideas on how to get pregnant. But nothing happened no matter the acrobatics you two get on to. Money was tight as it was so getting through IVF or even getting you both properly tested for now was out of the picture. So you had given up on the idea of having your kids.

Joel could tell that it had started to weigh on you even if you tried to hide it and smiled through it. The smile was fake, Joel knew it. He had heard you crying for weeks at night. Alone in the bathroom. Thinking that Joel was asleep and you were safe to let your guard down. But he heard it all. You soul-crushing sobs, that even an open tap couldn't muffle out. He had wanted to bring it up multiple times but somehow he felt that it would only make it worse.

"Is everything okay with mom?", Sarah had asked him one morning when you didn't come downstairs for breakfast. Joel stiffened for a moment, "Of course hun. Why are ya asking?". Sarah's eyes were on the plate. She was old enough to understand when things weren't okay back at home. She also had grown up with you by her side so she knew you. "I just... Do you know that mom's been crying a lot lately?", Sarah didn't dare to meet her father's gaze and Joel in a way was thankful because he knew that the look on his daughter's face would have broken him. With a sigh, he pushed the skillet away from the heat.

"You know... We've been trying to get you a sibling", Joel said while pulling out a chair, Sarah instantly looked up with that hopeful gleam and Joel had to clench his jaw tightly, "But I'm afraid we won't be able to".

Sarah shook her head, "Why?", "We don't know. The doctor thinks there might be something wrong..."

A part of Joel felt weird explaining it to Sarah but they were so close. You all had been. You all talked about anything and everything, there were few to no topics that you all haven't discussed together. "But...", Sarah trailed off, "Mom will be okay?" Joel wished he knew an answer to that. The truth was he didn't. He wished he could make it better. Help you fulfill the desire of becoming a mother. "We just need to give her a lot more love now. Show her how much we appreciate her", Joel ran his fingers through Sarah's hair, as she bit her lip, "Can we make her breakfast in bed?", she suggested and Joel couldn't help a smile that spread across his lips. He knew that you two had done a wonderful job raising Sarah, "We sure can, baby girl".

They had done just that for the next couple of months. Joel had found a way to take a couple of days off. Taking his little family on a little road trip. As you all went on a hike, camping by the lakeside, enjoying the peace and quiet. Yet the biggest gift to Joel was seeing a smile on your face once again. A smile that reached your eye as you and Sarah sat in a flower field making flower crowns. Crowns that Joel happily wore as you both giggled away.

Sarah found you sat by the kitchen counter, biting your lip nervously as you looked through a pile of papers spread across the counter. "What are you doing?", her voice made you jump slightly as you turned to her. Shaking your head slightly, "Come look at this", you moved slightly, making space for her. Sarah frowned slightly not understanding what she was looking at. "Adoption options", you said to her quietly, "They send over a couple of matches for our family". Sarah scanned over the pictures splattered around. Taking a hold of the only baby picture there. Ellie the name tag read. Sarah turned to you, "She just got placed in the adoption facility. Her mother died while giving birth to her", you muttered. "Are we going to meet her?", your daughter's question took you by surprise slightly, "Would you want to?", Sarah nodded her head in agreement. "We'll talk it through with your dad then".

You were rubbing your hands together nervously as you drove to the adoption center. Joel was quick to place a hand on your thigh, slowly stroking your skin. "Breathe, gorgeous", he said softly, "What if she hates us?", you muttered, turning to him slightly, "Love, she's just over five months", "Yes, but she could still hate us. Hate me". Sarah reached out her hand towards the front seat, placing her hand onto your shoulder, "Mom, you are the best. I doubt there's a single soul who hates you". Joel hummed in response, "I agree with our mushroom over here", Sarah gasped, "Out of all the nicknames...", "You prefer fishy better?", Joel teased, making Sarah cross her arms over her chest as she sat back, "I will turn my sister against you and then we'll see who will be a mushroom", she said, making your heart skip a beat that she was already referring to her as a sister.

The time spent in a hallway felt like a lifetime. You managed to sit for the first five minutes but then your nerves got the best of you so you opted to passing the corridor. Sarah was invested in all the little cards and buckles on the table. Joel stood beside you. Arms wrapped around you as he occasionally pressed a kiss or two to your shoulders or neck. In hopes of making some of the nerves melt away. To remind you that you were in this together. That he was here. Like he have always been. And no matter what happened you three were going to get through it.

"The Millers?", a lady called out making you spin towards her in an instant, "Nice to meet you, I'll be supervising you today". She went on to explain how everything usually worked around here. The number of times you would have to come by and see Ellie before they would issue a statement allowing you to adopt the girl if that ended up being your final destination. But you barely heard any of it. Thankful for Joel who kept the conversation going, noting the most important things. Light cries filled the room as you four stepped inside, the desire to soothe the babe instantly blossomed inside you.

You stepped closer to the crib, "She's fussy today, so don't let it set you off", the lady said moving to reach for her but you quickly cut in, "Could I?". The woman only smiled, allowing you to carefully pick the fussy little girl up, as you held her closer to your chest. "Hi, baby girl. I know, I know that it's so scary", you cooed at her, brushing your thumb over her flushed cheek, "But I've got you, sweetie". Ellie's cries died down almost in an instant, her big eyes now staring up at you. You rocked her gently in your arms, smiling at her softly.

Sarah stepped closer to you, moving to look at the bundled-up baby. She took the backpack from her shoulders, reaching in to pull out a tiny dinosaur. She looked up as if asking for permission to also approach her. You moved down to sit on the chair that stood by the crib, allowing Sarah to see Ellie better. She wiggled the stuffy in front of the baby, making different sounds that eventually had Ellie flashing a gummy smile at her.

Joel watched you two from the side. He never doubted Sarah being an awesome big sister. That kid had so much love to give as it was. He knew that sharing it with someone else would have only made his little sunshine happier. But it was you who had Joel captivated. The way your body instantly fell into a motherly state. A wave of proudness washed over him. That was his wife there. Cradling a baby to her chest.

"Dad you should hold her", Sarah said, stepping to the side as she watched her father who had been lost in his mind. "Let your mother bond with her, sweetheart", he said softly but you shook your head, "She's right, you should hold her. She's been looking at you for a while now", you said, standing up carefully. Joel realized just how long it had been since he had held a baby. And his mind instantly jumped to a thousand and one ways that he could hurt her by accident. Support the neck, he told himself, don't press too hard, just hold her steady.

But the moment Joel felt the weight of her in his arms. With you still standing close to him. As Ellie gripped onto your finger. Joel suddenly felt complete. As if this wiggly worm in his arms was exactly what his family had been missing. The warmth of his body soothed the baby and after a close inspection of the man holding her, Ellie's eyes started to grow heavy. "That's a big yawn, baby girl", Joel muttered quietly as he carefully brushed his hand over her head. Sarah walked closer to you two, wrapping her arms around you both, and resting her head on Joel's side. You four just stood there for some time. Joel rested his head onto yours, as the baby between the two of you drifted into a calm sleep. Not a single drop of worry in your body. The lady stood there with a pleased smile on her face, knowing full well that you three were going to give Ellie the best and most loving home she could ever hope to get.

[shima-draws]

Hi Shima!! How are you?

Hi anon!! I’m tired but good c: I recently got back from a camping trip which is why I’ve been kinda MIA, surprisingly enough we did have service up in the mountains so that was nice!

I got some nice scenery pictures!

Still can’t believe I got that shot of the rainbow, it drizzled a little right after we set up camp and then the sun came out and it was just 👌

Also I had no idea my phone was capable of taking actually decent pictures of the stars, but yeah they were SO clear and so gorgeous, we could see a bit of the Milky Way 🥺

Got a really clear shot of the Big Dipper too!

And on the last day (Tuesday) we went to a wolf reserve and actually got to go into their enclosure and pet them, which was the best thing ever. I got legitimate wolf kisses!!!

(Hiding my face bc I’m shy but YEAH SHE LICKED MY FACE 😭)

We got back Tuesday afternoon but I was just so wiped that I went straight to bed. I took today off of work too bc I’m still recovering but I’ll be going back tomorrow :’)

Thanks for checking in on me <3

[theratlivinginyourcouchcushions]

I just had a dream where there was a cursed area in the forest, where any creature would be dragged into a death spiral (ant mill) until they dropped dead, and me and a bunch of friends went near it. one started playing a flute nonstop, of a song I had been singing earlier, and we were all really freaked out bc SHE DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO PLAY THE FLUTE. when we were dragged into the circle, I would try to get away, and I would jump off a really steep hill, being able to glide away. But every time I would have to maneuver to avoid hitting the ground, and end up back in the death spiral. A big part of the story was that we went near it bc we heard children screaming and crying. A school camping trip had been trapped there. It was implied that they dropped dead from exhaustion and starvation sometime after the dream ended.

Any way, I bet this is something a time loop demon would do. (Check out the wiki page)

Also look up ant mills if u don’t know what they are, it’s really interesting, and a bit sad.

[imkazz]

Rent?! No one ever talks about rent. Tell me rent things.

AUGHHHH RENT!!!!

i went to watch it at the stratford festival like three days ago!!!

(press for better quality)

I LOVE RENT! FROM SO MANY PERSPECTIVES! IT TALKS ABOUT THE AIDS CRISIS AND TRANS PEOPLE AND GAY PEOPLE AND DEATH AND GRIEF AND HOMELESSNESS AND SO MANY IMPORTANT TOPICS IN JUST ONE MUSICAL

keep reading if you want to see my theatre nerd side, i basically swoon over set design, backstage, lights, model choices, etc.

AS SOMEONE WHO LOVES THEATRE PRODUCTION A LOT MORE THAN ACTING, THE STAGE THEY USED TO CONVEY THIS MUSICAL HAS SO MUCH AS WELL!

LIGHTS, SOUND, PROPS AND MANAGEMENT OF SPACE WENT SO WELL AT THE FESTIVAL THEATRE!

its something called a thrust stage at the festival theatre, which is different than your usual type of stage, aka the proscenium stage. the thrust stage thrusts to the centre of the room, making it so that you can watch the play from all angles, and not specifically need to get centre, front row seats. you can see with the second photo below that even the people at the edge get an interesting perspective.

the actors and designers also have a fun time with thrust stages! you have to act with your entire body, as all pov seats can watch you, and designers have to be careful about props and use space wisely, especially since its a much smaller space than your usual, and theres no curtains meaning that scene changes have to be imaginative as well.

as you can see with the photo i took, i did in fact get centre front seats, only because a huge tour group backed out last seconds and my mom was able to snag the tickets.

(i actually watched it twice! first time at the festival was with the theatre group where i was looking at all the lights and cues and analyzing shit, but second time was bc my siblings wanted to watch it live and i could sit back and enjoy the show, looking at some things i wanted to rewatch that other campers had talked about that i missed (the first photo i took of the stage is from camp, on the balcony, while the second is the most recent and from in front of the stage))

from theatre camp, i also got the absolute privlage to get a tour of the festival theatre, and watch a changeover. since the festival theatre goes through multiple plays a day (richard III for a matinee, rent as a night show just as an example) they change the entire set.

i dont care about shakespeare, so were here to talk about the changeover to rent. they expanded the stage and made it much denser material, since people will be dancing on it, and changed the sudden drop to stairs, so the actors wouldnt trip on stage or while dancing. they also added that small platform to the centre of the stage, and did so much with it!

at first, that small platform was used as mark and rogers apartment, and there were metaphorical walls that everyone could see. even though collins was standing RIGHT NEXT TO THEM, he wasnt on the platform and was looking upwards, while mark was looking downwards, signalling they were on different floors.

for the 'la vie boheme' dance scene, they used it as a huge table to seat all the people around it, on the ground. they simly laid a cloth on the edges to make it a table, and the audience could take it as a table.

there was also a trapdoor in the centre of that thing, so for one musical number involving rogers and mimi, they were brought up, being the centre of attention while everyone else danced around them. it also became a small table for one scene.

the next thing the trapdoor did. it went down under the stage, where angel would climb onto it, and 'today 4 u' song, she rose out onto the stage in a puff of smoke and a badass christmas fit!!! so cool!

trapdoor was then used as a makeshift bed for angel, where collins helped her lie as she died of aids. they covered her with a huge cloth, which each of the group threw in and yelled 'im done!' and walked away, leaving collins still clutching it with angel underneath, the trapdoor going inwards as her grave.

let me tell you. they transitioned so well. the trapdoor went back into the trap room, where collins would also let go of the cloth and got it to sink into the hole. id assume the actor got out, the people down there would take the cloth, and while everyone on stage was doing the funeral scene, the people down there would put angels bucket with a bouquet inside and place it on the trapdoor.

theyd then let the trap back up onto stage, replacing the cloth and angel with her bucket and a bouquet in it. that made me sob the first time i saw it. holy shit.

now, away from the sad stuff and back to set design.

if you look at the photo, you can see windows in the backgrounds. they look like normal windows, until you look closer to see silhouettes in them. men and woman.

those were used A LOT to convey the scene. i cant remember the orders, but the main examples that stuck out to me:

for the 'tango maureen', the windows lit up red and you could see the people a lot better, which implies all the people shes slept with/cheated with

when they got together for the aids meeting, the windows lit up in rainbow colours to signify all the people who suffer to aids and the general lgbtq colours

when they were talking about homeless people with benny, the lights shone in different cold hues, showing all the people in tent city and how they must be freezing in the winter

'rent' the song, the windows were flashing with the song, and when the power got cut, all the lights went out except a faint blue from the lights above so the audience could still somewhat see what was happening

sound. all the cast used mics, id guess that the chorus would trade mics based on who had huge lines. before it started, you could hear general city sounds, cars, beeping, general business that you would get from new york that i found a bit cool. i think you can tell im not that passionate about sound.

alright, what else? costumes. costumes, costumes. I LOVED ANGELS FITS. HOLY FUCK, HER NEW YEARS EVE DRESS WAS SORTA TRANSPARENT BUT HAD A RAINBOW SHIMMER TO IT?! I LOVED IT SO MUCHHHHH AAAAAAAAA other than that i have little to no things about costumes... they were all wearing basic fits that were usual for the 80's, all sorts of hip-hop, t-shirts, jeans, your usual.

found some from the web! first photo is that outfit i scream about up there, and the second is her coming out of the trapdoor for 'today 4 u'!!!

okok now actors... I MET THE GUY WHO PLAYED COLLINS FOR THIS SEASON AT THE FESTIVAL!!! or, me and my entire theatre production camp did. we all got autographs, and got to speak to him bc we waited for everyone else to leave the theatre before we could go as a group, so all the actors had the time to change out of things and stuff. it turns out that someone he knew died of aids not too long ago, so his reaction to angel's death is pretty spot-on. he was so cool! the name's Lee Siegel if you wanted to look more into that.

last thing (i think). at the end, after an amazing scene where the cloth used on angel to lower her down the trapdoor was used to present all the little clips mark got over the year they all had together, angel came out of the centre door draped in this blanket, which all the cast would lay onto the stage.

and everything would go to applause.

in all, rent is amazing! <3 especially after watching tick tick boom!

(sorry for ranting i love theatre (realised i should probably save this to talk about in drama class when school starts...))

[oatmealdaydreams]

Platonic Logicality but what if old friends who fell out with each other that have a surprise accidental reunion bc of a camping trip that's hosted by a mutual friend (who doesn't know about Patton and Logan being old friends)?

It's midlife, late life, whatever. The twins have pursued their passions in acting and horror writing respectively. Virgil has a psychology degree and uses it in his public speaking career where he gives talks about the uglier sides of mental health & gives spaces for misrepresented people to feel heard and seen. Virgil who is aro/ace and is in a qpp polyam partnership with two wonderful people and also has a cat. Janus and Patton are married with a kid they adopted. Janus (she/it) healed and is now doing a lot better and is less manipulative. Logan who became an astronomy professor and fights for better pay for teachers. They were all in a college friend group of the six of them before they parted ways and went on with life.

Logan kept in contact with Roman, Remus, and Virgil & he plans on visiting them three sometime soon after this camping trip. Logan lost touch with Janus, especially after the conflicts between her & Virgil and a past incident between her and Roman. Logan had a falling out years ago with Patton, and so he hasn't talked to Patton or Janus in years.

Logan and Patton reunite by accident during the camping trip. Neither knew that they were mutual friends with the host, an OC of mine named Jackson Moore (they/she). Jackson didn't know Patton and Logan had a shared past.

They're camping in the Northwest woods, a forest called Starfall Forest (based on an actual Northwestern national forest in Oregon, USA; the real forest is called Umatilla National Forest).

Tensions are awkward at first, but they make do. At one point, under a night of stars, outside of tents, Patton & Logan share old memories and catch up. Patton mentions being married to Janus. Logan says something along the lines of "If she [Janus] ever healed for anyone, it would be you" and Patton smiles. They slowly reconnect into friendly acquaintances. Logan offers for him to try and come to Virgil's next get-together. Patton says he'll consider it, especially because of childcare and knowing Virgil may still not want to see Janus.

They go on their separate ways again, but not before exchanging phone numbers. Logan thought ever seeing Patton again would go bad, especially with them dating in college, but it turns out okay.

Bittersweet ending, hurt/comfort, angst, some background Moceit.

And yes, there is a fic being written!

[momosandlemonsoda]

Friends, do you know the difference between a vacation and a family trip? They are, to be clear, extremely different but often confused and I need you all to know that I spent 10 days traveling during which I spent one (1) night not in the same room as my child and that night I was in sweet Ambien-fueled oblivion in the tent next to hers.

[We were in tents bc I love my sister, who loves camping, and despite the fact that I hate camping and do not understand why anyone wants to bring all the things they have in their house to a location in the woods for one night, I camped with her. In gratitude, she gave me my own tent and slept with her two kids and my one.]

On this same trip, I watched only Pete the Cat and drank two (2) adult beverages. Now, Pete the Cat’s theme song is catchy, but given the option, it’s not my first choice of what to watch. And while I’m not a heavy drinker, I do like to indulge now and then. I also enjoy visiting museums, eating at fancy restaurants, shopping in cute boutiques, and buying art, which I managed to do in about one 2-day period. (I was gone, I repeat, for ten days.)

What I’m saying, in case it isn’t clear, is that I took a 10-day family trip that culminated in 13+ hours of travel to get home, during which my kid had a fever and now I’m home and forced to work? And the power went out last night during the inane heat we are experiencing and I got maybe 5 hours of sleep before my cat screamed to wake me up for pets?

I need a fucking vacation.

[softguarnere]

Can I requests a oneshot with Ron Speirs x reader? everyone in easy thinks that big grumpy speirs holds a grudge against the reader bc he often gives her paperwork or smth but in reality he just wants to keep her around him out of protectiveness bc he likes her? But she doesn't know and thinks he doesn't like her either so shes kind of intimidated but also has a massive crush on him? But when he sees the reader with some other easy members he gets jealous and snaps so now he has to tell her that hes in love with her. Don't stress yourself, i just thought it could be interesting, thank youu

From Scratch

Ron Speirs x reader

Summary: No, what bothers you is that ever since he gained control of Easy Company, he’s done nothing but take opportunities away from you. You’re proud to be a lieutenant. But what’s the point of holding the rank if you never do any of the work that comes with it?

A/N: Thank you so much for the request, Anon! I swear I didn't forget about this - or the other prompts in my inbox. School has been keeping me busy this semester, so this took me a long time to write. But it's here now, and I hope you enjoy it! (This is written for the fictional depiction from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans!) 💕🕊️

Warnings: mentions of war

“Uh oh!” Nixon singsongs when you step into the command post. “Looks like someone is in trouble.” He flashes you a broad grin as you make your way over to his desk and drop a stack of files with a heavy thwack! “What’d you do this time?”

Anger boils in your chest. Not towards Nixon. It’s not his fault. For his sake you try to keep your voice just as light and joking when you shrug and say, “Oh, you know, just the usual sort of thing. Got the scouting mission that I was supposed to lead taken from me and given to one of the sergeants.” You shrug. “No big deal.”

Except it is, and you both know it.

Nixon lets out a low whistle. “Damn. And might I inquire as to who arranged this?”

You roll your eyes. “Do you really need to ask?”

Speirs. It’s always Speirs.

Which seems unfair, somehow. You can still remember the first time you saw him, way back in Camp Toccoa, when he was in a different company, but already gaining a reputation for himself as one of the best runners. One time you passed him as you were going up the mountain and he was going down. He had nodded at you as he passed, and something about the niceness of the gesture made your heart jolt so fiercely that you almost tripped as you started on the switchback.

Then he went on to distinguish himself in other ways – the ever present whispers of rumors and stories that follow him like a cape made out of mystery – and suddenly, after he was put in charge of Easy Company, he didn’t seem so nice anymore. The rumors have never bothered you; Ron is a good leader, and you trust that he’s making whatever choices he needs to in order to keep the company safe.

No, what bothers you is that ever since he gained control of Easy Company, he’s done nothing but take opportunities away from you. You’re proud to be a lieutenant. But what’s the point of holding the rank if you never do any of the work that comes with it? (Well, besides paperwork, that is.)

The most frustrating part of it is that as angry as you are with him, you still feel your heart begin to hammer away in your chest whenever he enters a room – or race into triple time if you think he’s looking at you. How dare your own heart still feel so fondly towards him when your eyes can clearly see the obvious fact laid before you?

The fact being: Ronald Speirs dislikes you. Which kind of makes it feel as if someone is crushing your heart under their shoe, like a cigarette being ground out on the sidewalk, when you think about it.

You push the thought – and the feelings – aside. Or try to, anyway.

“I hate paperwork,” you mutter as you take a seat across from the intelligence officer. “Almost as much as he hates me.”

“I don’t think Speirs hates you.” When you fix him with an incredulous look, Lewis holds up his hands in surrender. “I mean, he might hold some sort of grudge against you, maybe, but hate you? If that were true, I think you’d be dead by now, (Y/N).”

You roll your eyes; it’s a conversation you’ve had before, and one that never fails to fill you with the smallest shred of hope that maybe Nixon is right about Speirs not completely hating you. “Well, now I hold a grudge against him for making me do all this paperwork.”

“You sound like somebody else I know. Ah, and if you speak of the devil, then he shall appear!”

Quick, confident footsteps approach the desk from behind you. Neither you or Nixon can stop the smiles that spread across your faces when Dick appears. Even something as simple as his presence has always been able to lighten the mood, and today is no exception.

He returns the smile as he pulls up a chair from a nearby desk to join you, but not before glancing over both shoulders, searching.

“The devil?” He huffs a laugh. “Weird. You were already here, Nix.”

“Oh ha ha,” Nixon deadpans. He props his feet up on the desk and leans back in his chair.

Dick gently pushes his friend’s feet off the desk, which makes Nixon sit upright. For his part, though, Nixon doesn’t seem to mind it. Or mind that Dick sets more paperwork in front of him. Well, at least someone seems okay with filling out forms. Maybe if you’re extra nice, you can trick him into doing all the work that Speirs assigned to you.

Just as you’re trying to sneak your stack of files in with Nixon’s, Dick raises an eyebrow at you.

“There a reason that you’re stuck inside again, Lieutenant?”

You shrug. “Oh, you know how I just can’t stay away from office work. And how much I love to be bombarded with company gossip by Nix.”

Lewis puts a hand over his heart and gasps. “What?! You mean to tell me that you don’t hang around here because you enjoy my witty banter and winning personality?”

“Actually, I would rather – “

You’re cut off by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind you.

Slowly, you turn to see Speirs standing a few feet away from where the three of you sit. Upon first glance, he looks a bit like a child standing on the fringes of a friend group on the first day of school, nervously waiting to see if he’s going to be invited to join in. But when the shock clears off, it’s impossible to miss the look in his eyes – there’s a darkness lurking beneath the surface that suddenly makes it so easy to see why every rumor thrown his direction sticks to him like he’s covered in paste. It makes your heart drop.

“Good afternoon, Captain,” Dick says, leading the charge bravely, as always.

After a nod and a brief salute, Speirs turns his attention to you. “Lieutenant (Y/L/N), I forgot to give you this.”

Your heart sinks when you realize that he’s holding yet another file full of paperwork. It’s such a setback that your heart can’t even bring itself to run wild when your hands briefly brush his as he hands it to you.

“Oh.” The words feel rough as sandpaper as you force them out. “Thank you.”

When you manage to meet his eye, Speirs has furrowed his eyebrows, which makes him look thoroughly annoyed. Standing so close, it’s easy to see the striking features of his face – like a marble bust of a Greek hero. He’s so handsome, even with the lines between his eyebrows and the frown tugging at his lips. It makes you want to reach up and smooth them away, let him lean into your touch so you can soften his features, molding them like clay into the gentle man that you imagine he might be under his tough exterior and the cold armor of rumors that make every line so harsh and so jagged to everyone else.

But you can’t do that. Instead, you’re separated from him by his armor, just like everyone else. You hate that you’ve caused him to look this way – to look at you this way.

“You know,” Speirs says, his voice quiet and as cold as the look he’s giving you. “it’s a lot safer here than it is on the line.” He glances back at Nixon and Winters before looking you up and down. “Get to work, Lieutenant.”

Then, just as quickly and as silently as he appeared, he’s gone.

It’s so cold, so impersonal. Your stomach turns to a block of ice.

Behind you, Nixon lets out a low whistle. “Well then.”

Get to work. Part of you wants to scoff, brush it off, and go back to your friends. The other part of you is chasing after him, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. Instead, you’re stuck standing there, staring after him, looking forlorn.

No, you decide. You can’t carry on like this.

The file falls unceremoniously onto the desk in front of Nixon as you toss it at him. “Finish this for me, will ya?”

Dick can’t contain the small laugh that escapes him when he sees the surprised look on Nixon’s face. You’re out the door before either of them can offer a proper response.

Outside, you don’t make it far. The door clicks shut behind you, and when you look up, you see him. Ron is a few feet away, coming towards you, closing the distance between you. Unlike a few moments before, he doesn’t look mad. The hard edges of his expression have softened into something like concern.

You stop in front of each other, each waiting for the other to say something.

“Can we talk?” You ask at the same time that Ron blurts out, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

You blink. “You’re what?”

Voices fill the air as a small group of officers approaches the command post. Ron gently takes your elbow and guides you aside so that they can pass, not seeming to notice or care what it does to your poor heart.

He lowers his voice as the group passes. “Can we talk? Privately?”

The Ronald Speirs wants to talk, alone, with you. There’s no question about it – you follow him.

He leads the two of you into one of the remnants of a building that soldiers have been quartering in. The skeletal remains of the structure probably provide no protection for whatever words he wants to exchange, but at least you can be away from prying eyes.

Alone, his dark eyes look you over. The motion isn’t as harsh as it was back in the command post. No, this is . . . gentle. Like he’s studying you.

You find yourself nervous under his gaze. Clearing your throat, you try to find your words. “You wanted to talk?”

Ron looks unsure of himself – something that you never would have imagined was possible. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, the sound filtering through the hollowed out room you stand in like it’s the building’s last raspy breath.

“I was an accountant, back before the war.”

Whatever you thought he was going to tell you, it certainly wasn’t that. You raise an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

He nods. “I’m good with numbers; that’s my strong suit. Words . . . don’t work themselves out as easily. Some people mistake quietness for cruelness.” The dim light casts shadows on his face as he tilts his head. “You’ve heard the rumors, just like everyone else?”

Who hasn’t heard the rumors, the stories? Speirs can’t walk through a room without turning heads and leaving a trail of whispers in his wake.

“Yes,” your voice comes out as a whisper. Are they true? you stop yourself from asking, because with his sudden openness, you’re starting to question everything that you’ve ever known about Ron Speirs – everything you’ve thought you’ve known. Who is this man, really?

“I . . . didn’t mean to snap at you,” Ron admits, his voice as soft as the look that he’s giving you. “And I’m sorry about all the paperwork. I don’t have a grudge against you.”

You cringe. So he did overhear that part.

He wets his lips, not quite meeting your eyes. “I try to keep you off the line so that you’ll be safe. There’s no grudge or dislike or . . . I just wanted to keep you safe because – “ He cuts himself off with a deep breath.

With the quiet all around you, the frantic beating of your heart fills the silence. “You want to keep me safe?”

“Yes. If you’ll let me.”

Being in the same room as him felt impossible a few minutes ago. Now though, some inexplicable force draws the two of you together. You both step forward so that there’s hardly any space left between you. Something in the back of your mind wonders how things have changed so quickly. What else have you been wrong about?

“Who are you, Ronald Speirs?”

So close to him, you can see the smile tugging at the edge of his mouth when he replies, “There’s your answer: Ronald C Speirs. That’s all that I am.”

An accountant. Someone’s son, brother, friend who got drafted into the war. A man. The rumors and myths that shroud him fall away until someone you don’t know stands before you. You want to get to know him.

“Well, Ron, it’s nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N).” You smile at him, and it feels natural when he returns the gesture. “Can we maybe start over?”

Ron lets out a laugh and you could swear it was the sweetest sound in the entire world. “I would like that very much.”