#because i almost cried thinking about how nice it would be to drive through the mountains and stop at motels

[erwinsvow]

𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

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

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

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

word count: 13.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The way he says it, you almost believe him.

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

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

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

If only you knew. 

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah, international law, right?”

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

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

“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, me either, kid.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not yet, you’re not.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing.” 

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

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

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I…I just-”

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

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

“How’m I gonna eat mine then?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My sister’s always got boy problems.”

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

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

You laugh while Wheezie frowns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” he questions.

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

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

“She.”

“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

so she deserves death????

R: The impound lot at the very least

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

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

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

R: No.

R: Ur fault. You gave her yours

you gave her yours too

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

R: She’s five, genius

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house

R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you

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

“What’s inside? I thought-”

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

“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”

“Y-yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The way he says it you believe him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You guess that God was on your side today. 

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

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

R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?

you know me so well

R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

Princess: please rafey

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Make you forget?” he questions. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I tried, daddy, I did-”

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

“No, I did, I swear-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looks up again. 

“You ready, kid?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A few minutes pass by.

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

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

“Feel better, kid?” 

“So much better, Rafey.” 

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

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

౨ৎ

[adventuringblind]

The Thrill of It (1.8K Words)

LandOscar x Reader

Genre: Street Racer AU, Smut

Summary: Sometimes the boys come back from races a little riled up, it doesn't help tonight that they get a bit possessive when someone lays a hand on what's theirs.

Warnings: PinV sex, unprotected sex, public sex, exhibitionist Lando, Sub reader, Dom Oscar, Oral, face-fucking, Hair pulling (?), minor degradation, Oscar being stressed after because AFTERCARE IS IMPORTANT OKAY

Notes: I'm back! Did you miss me? I think this is the most lewd smut I've ever done... But reminder that comments and filling my inbox with nice things motivates me to write!!

Side Note: MINORS AVERT YOUR EYES!! ADULT CONTENT AHEAD!!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

The lights amongst the crowd flitted about in shades of neon. The people are rowdy tonight on the sides of the street. All of them handing off their cash to each other to bet on which driver they think will win. 

It’s a dangerous game with no medic on scene. She supposes that’s the thrill of it. Knowing there may be no return once they put their foot on the pedal.

Lando and Oscar are practically swimming in the cash now. While she isn’t in the spotlight, they certainly are. These are their streets. They know Woking like the back of their hands now. 

Lando says he drives by feeling where Oscar has a map of the turns memorized. It speaks volumes about their character.  

You’d think these idiots would stop betting so much on other drivers. She’s been here enough times to know they never learn. Always lured into a false sense of hope. She doesn’t mind it, simply finds it funny. 

She finds herself entranced by the sounds of the engines, the people chanting their names. She sees other people oggle the two, hands becoming a bit more than friendly as the night progresses and alcohol is consumed.

A car pulls below her hiding spot. The second car driven, a truck she can sit in the bed of when things get overwhelming and the people too much. 

Those friendly hands tend to slip when they see a pretty stranger. Boundary lines are crossed. Another thing they should know by now: Oscar and Lando are the kings of these streets and it’s best not to mess with their queen. 

The bed of the truck shakes as they climb in with her. Their faces are half hidden in the dark. The other is illuminated by intermittent flashing lights. 

 Lando looks all too happy about the stunt he just pulled. A dangerous thing that could have killed him if not done right. The adrenaline has his pupils dilated. “Don’t think he’ll be coming back again. Gave him a run for his money… Liturgy!” 

“Literally-” 

“Yes, that’s what I meant - Literally!” 

She tilts her head back and laughs. Drunk off the atmosphere of the night and maybe the fumes of whatever people have been smoking all night. “Scared him off then?” 

“You know it baby!” Lando latches right onto her exposed neck with his teeth for all of two seconds before Oscar is dragging him off. It leaves them both whining. “Osc! I’m doing things!” 

“You’re doing our things.” The dehumanizing language should not have her this hot and bothered, in Woking, in October. She’s wearing a skirt with nothing aside from panties underneath and one of Oscar’s zip-ups with a tank top. Not the best choice of clothing all things considered, but she could care less. Not when it gives them easy access when they are all riled up like this.

Oscar drags her into his lap. The feeling of strong thighs underneath her in almost the right spot has her whimpering. “Didn’t realize you’re already so needy for us darling. Forgot how much seeing us drive turns you on.” 

She nearly cries when Oscar pulls her underwear to the side and slips a finger through her slit. “Look at this Lan! She’s a mess already!” Oscar’s free hand grips Lando by the collar and pulls him closer; nearly choking him out in the process. When his fingers are pulling obscene sounds from her, he brings them away. Up towards Lando’s mouth which unlatches to suck on them eagerly. 

The Brits eyes roll back as Oscar jams four fingers down the back of his throat just for the sake of it. “S’pose you’ve earned it tonight, Lan. You’re already a mess anyhow and I think you’ve been leaking since you got out of the car.” 

Lando mumbles something around Oscar’s fingers. It’s unintelligible - or she’s too lost in her haze to comprehend anything. Having slotted down on Oscar’s thigh to get some kind of friction. 

The sound of Lando’s belt buckle coming undone becomes louder than the engines. Then the wet sound of lips clashing together. The hand Oscar previously had in Lando’s mouth is now around his neck. 

The same story time and time again. Lando goes by feel where Oscar exudes superiority in how he has them memorized. 

She clocks the hand on her waist moving to the back of her head. Oscar switches to kiss her instead. The filthy kind - all tongue and teeth. It keeps her occupied long enough for Lando to shimmy his boxers just far enough down. 

“I knew you were leaking.” Lando makes a weak noise at that. Oscar’s words seem to have that effect on him. Both of them - really. “I bet you like showing off for all these people, huh? The possibility of us being caught like this. You get off on the thrill.”

The boys help her reposition her boy. Oscar gets two of his fingers in her, hovering just above Lando’s cock. Which - to Oscar’s credit - He’s not wrong. Lando is leaking like a faucet that has a consistent drip. It is mesmerizing and should be illegal. 

Oscar gets a third in her, dutifully stretching her open despite having to support her weight. Lando thrusts into the air out of impatience which earns a lovely smack to the side of his ass. “You should know better, Love, that all good things come with time.”

She feels empty for all of two seconds before her body is plunging down onto Lando’s cock. She can feel him twitching behind her - trying to remain still until given the go-ahead to move. His hands paw at the slope of her back and curve of her ass. 

In front of her, Oscar is undoing his own belt. She should’ve realized sooner how he had positioned them. How the truck bed is conveniently long enough to let Lando work out his residual energy by thrusting into her while Oscar makes use of her mouth. 

He’s always three moves ahead of them. 

She leans down, ready for him without him even having to ask. “Spit,” He commands. She does it without hesitation. 

Oscar makes use of the makeshift lube and gives himself a few strokes before motioning her forward. She unhinges her jaw and relaxes her throat and still - she gags. 

“See Lando, patience works wonders.” 

“Please Osc, please - I’m dying over here-” 

“Go ahead baby, you’ve earned it.” Oscar chuckles. 

They find a rhythm. When one is going in, the other is going out. She’s drooling all down the exposed skin Oscar is showing. 

“Best. Fucking. Reward. Ever~” Lando punctuates each word with a particularly hard thrust. The sounds are ridiculous and they are lucky that the sound of engines revving is drowning them out. If anyone is watching - well - they are certainly getting a show. 

Oscar’s voice cracks. “Fucking hell, you two look so good.” She concludes the walls of his resolve are starting to crumble. That the grip she has on his waist to ground herself is enough to make him snap and throw him over the edge. 

“You like the show, Osc.” 

“You could say that.” 

Lando likes to be seen and Oscar likes to watch. She likes everything in-between that. To be the object of their affections and an element of desire. Something they covet enough to lose themselves like this. 

Everything gets messier - if that was even possible. Oscar snaps his head back and grips the back of her head so he can hold her stead and fuck her throat. Lando grips her hips and sets an unrelenting pace. Each movement is sloppier than the last. Each moan is more pitched. 

She swallows. Her throat constricts enough for Oscar to growl from somewhere deep and sum without any warning. The tears are streaming down her face as she gags on the new and sudden change of consistency. 

He drags her off and gives her no time to recover. Simply lunging forward and nearly sending her crashing backwards onto Lando. His hand goes back to the Brits throat while his tongue goes so deep into her mouth that there is no way he can’t taste himself. 

Lando is a mess of high pitched whines. “Please - please I’m close-” 

She inhales desperately as Oscar unlatches from her mouth only to find the sensitive spot on her exposed collarbone. “Osc-” 

“I could keep you two like this forever. Desperate and whiny. Leaking with the thought of how good it would feel to cum.” They are both letting out desperate sounds. “I bet that guy from earlier would have stayed away then. So consumed by us that he could smell it on you.” 

“Yesyesyes - please-” She’s going to lose her mind. Lando might be closer than she is and yet he won’t slow down. There is nothing but this until Oscar tells them yes. Because it feels better waiting for it. 

And Lando will always go by feel.

“You’ve earned it Lando, fill our girl up yeah? Make her cry harder.” 

Oscar has to cover her mouth as everything goes white. Her ears are ringing - swimming in the sounds of their voices and nothing else. It’s white hot blissful nothing. No thoughts or anxieties, no worries about some guy making passes at her. 

Here she knows the two men who want nothing but to see her smile and cry for their cocks. Which is a stark contrast considering - but she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Oscar recovers the quickest. Swiftly jumping out of the truck bed to grab their extra blanket and hoodies. “I can’t really clean you two up yet, but will this do for now?” He shifts his weight between feet. Normally more prepared, ready to meet the needs of physical pains and emotional needs that come with the aftermath. 

They both nod and excitedly wait for him to climb back up. “That… was amazing,” she laughs. Her voice broken and hoarse from her throat being used. 

Oscar winces. “I need to get you some water.” 

“Osc-”

“Yeah.” 

“Relax! It felt good! It was great and we’re okay.” Lando gestures to the two who can barely move. Bodies still twitching from the overwhelming sensations. “Now we shall bask in the glory that is the ridiculous amount of cash we made tonight!”

“What are you gonna spend it on?” 

“You, of course!” Oscar leans her into his side as Lando throws an arm around her shoulders for good measure. 

Cars begin to drive past. Leaving for the night either to wherever they are staying or another race. They wave off some of the familiar faces and flip off the annoying ones. Yeah - she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[cosmal]

Hi, could i make a request for Eddie Munson, an angst/comfort one where he cries the first time reader kisses him? Because he's never ever been loved like that, and he didn't realize how touch starved he was until the gesture overwhelmed him? 🥺❤️ Love your writing

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 — 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

thank you!!!

summary — eddies first date with you doesn't go how he'd planned and he hadn't even expected a kiss. still, you kiss him because you want to.

warnings/tags — fem!reader, touch starved!eddie, eddie's never been on a first date before

word count — 2.3k

In Eddie’s opinion, his first date with you goes to shit.

If he could sit here and say that he’s surprised, he would. But he’s not. He’s Eddie Munson, things don’t go to plan for him like they should.

He was a nervous wreck to begin with, how he’d even scored a date with you in the first place is beyond him. Though he can’t attribute much credit to himself anyways, you had asked him out.

Sitting in Steve Harrington’s backyard after a swim, you start to tell him about this new, fancy restaurant up behind the arcade. It’s just opened and,

“Would you want to go there sometime? I heard their pasta is delicious.”

He had to get you to repeat the question, his ears were full of water and he was sure he’d heard you wrong.

He psychs himself out for the better half of his afternoon, so not only is he late to pick you up, his old, dingy, stupid van breaks down before it can even make it out your drive. You tell him it’s okay, it’s a nice night, we should walk. Eddie tells you that he shouldn’t have you walking all the way into town in those shoes.

“What’s a few blisters if it means I get to spend more time with you?”

Your kindness does nothing for his thrumming heart.

Once you’re at the restaurant he forgets to open the door for you. You don’t seem to mind, of course, you don’t, but Eddie has a checklist of gentlemanly dues he feels he must achieve to impress you. It’s stupid, really stupid, but he’d be damned if he messed up such an amazing opportunity.

You sit and chat for a while, waiting for your meals, and the entire time he thinks you want to hold his hand. Your manicured hand keeps inching closer to his over the white tablecloth, knuckles almost brushing, and he’s too nervous about making the final move to tangle his fingers through yours.

Then you say something terribly, awfully kind to him. Something about his hair, how it looks really nice tonight. How you’ve always loved his hair.

Eddie spurts his soda out over his glass and gets it all down his white shirt. Yeah, his white shirt. Something he’d begged Harrington to let him wear.

“Please, man. I don’t have anything nice to wear tonight. I can’t exactly show up in my Judas Priest shirt that’s covered in bleach.”

“You could show up in a brown paper bag and she’d still think you were the hottest thing out.”

“It’s not that easy for me. I need to impress her.”

Eddie had wiped the soda from Steve’s shirt, feeling utterly stupid and you had laughed like it was the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

You’d laughed when he’d choked on his spaghetti. Smiled kindly when he offered you to try his food and you’d reminded him for the second time that night that you were allergic to tomatoes. To top it off, you’d pretended it was no big deal that he had accidentally left his wallet in his van and that you had no problems paying for dinner.

“Really, Eddie. It’s fine. Just get me back next time.”

The thought of a next time was enough to stop his racing thoughts for just a moment. Not for long though, because watching you pretend like your feet weren’t aching on the way home had Eddie cursing himself the entire walk.

How could he fuck up so badly and how could you be so calm and kind about it?

Now, standing at your front landing, he’s apologising profusely for how horrible he’s made your night.

“Horrible?” you question, eyebrows raised and skin glowing if it's entirely possible. The setting sun casts you amber.

“I don’t know,” Eddie stammers, “It didn’t go how I wanted it to.”

“It didn’t?” you question again. Your voice is pitched up and its melody has his brain spinning, “How were you expecting it to go?”

“I’d have expected not to forget my wallet. And maybe have a van that works,” Eddie can’t help but laugh at his stupidity. Especially when you’re making the same face you have been all night. A smile that looks like it could ruin him.

“I don’t know,” You reach forward and take the hem of his shirt in your fingers, playing with the thread. “I had a really good time.”

“You- you did?” Eddie stammers. Suddenly you’re really close, if it’s because he’s been too deep inside his own head he hasn’t noticed you inching closer, he’s not sure.

“Yeah,” you nod gleefully, hair bouncing.

“Yeah,” he echoes. More to set it in stone himself.

Eddie watches where your fingers play with his shirt, the closer they inch towards his skin, the louder he thinks his heart becomes in his ears.

There’s a silence that you hate, “Hey, Eds?”

Eddie’s breath hitches. You’ve never called him that before.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. Voice quieter than he’d like to admit. Any louder and he feels as if you’d step back from him.

He looks up and catches your gaze before you speak, “Can I kiss you?”

Eddie doesn’t know how to reply. He’s never even been asked such a question before so he can’t even pretend he’s got an answer somewhere in the back of his numb mind.

His heart thrums in his throat, feels as if it might escape, “You want to kiss me?”

You nod like it’s the most obvious thing ever. To you, it is, to Eddie it’s unimaginable.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

The moment your lips press into his, he freezes. Not in a bad sense, his mouth still moves. He still shows you how much he wants to kiss you with his tentative and loving lips. But he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. They flex at your side until you’re cradling his face in your own.

Your touch is warm, warmer than your lips and it almost burns. Burns so much that his eyes well with tears and he gasps into your opening mouth.

Your face suddenly feels wet and you can feel a sob making its way through Eddie's throat. You pull away, “Eddie? You okay?”

He slams his eyes shut to will away the tears, fisting at his hair when he pushes it behind his ears, “M’sorry,” he sniffles.

You reach up to cradle his face again, wiping hot tears away from his flushed cheeks, “Hey, it’s alright. I had a great night. Promise.”

He shakes his head, “No,” he swallows, “No, it’s not that. I’ve just. I’ve never been kissed like that before.”

“Oh.”

Eddie feels stupid. That is until you say,

“Oh, Eddie. Hey, c’mere.”

Eddie lets himself fall too willingly into your arms. Has no problems this time when you wrap your arms around his back and pull him as close as possible. Close enough that his hair presses so hard into the skin of your neck that he expects it to be embossed.

He grasps at the back of your shirt a little too hard. Pressing his nose into the skin behind your ear, sniffling wetly.

“It’s okay,” you murmur into his head, “I had I really good night and I think,” you pause and let him rub his cheek into your shoulder, “I think I’ve wanted to kiss you for a really long time.”

He pulls back and you think he has the prettiest eyes. Despite them being glassy and the tiniest bloodshot. “Yeah?”

You lean in and peck him right above his top lip, overthe plush of his cupid's bow, "Yeah."

“You think you'll want to try it again sometime?"

You smile brightly, "I think I do. More than you think."

"Way more than I think."

[mutable-manifestation]

Ghost Chirps AU Part 3

Part 1 & 2

Around half past midnight, Jason is losing his patience.

They've been searching for hours and finding a whole lot of nothing, and statistics about the odds of finding kidnapping victims and the first 72 hours.

It's been almost 48 since he saw the kid and he's cursing himself for not doing more sooner.

Cameras are finding nothing, Signal is finding nothing, everyone is finding a whole lot of nothing.

And Jason...

Jason chirps.

He doesn't know if it'll help, but it's the only idea he's got. Even if it's a shallow chance. It's all he's got; he has to try.

And if Bruce decides that Jason being meta is the line? Then he'll cope.

He won't refuse to do something just because he's scared when his- when the kid's well being is on the line.

He won't be like Bruce, who'd let his killer walk free rather than do something about it because his feelings were somehow more important when Jason died.

He won't.

The first chirp yields nothing.

He does it again pushing to try and make it as loud as possible.

Again, nothing.

Again, he chirps, something in him certain that if he just keeps going it'll work. Somehow. But he's learned to trust his gut - or weird meta instincts?

And it works.

Because after the third chirp the kid chirps back.

Except.

The kid is not in Gotham.

He is very, very not in Gotham.

He chalks it up to his weird meta-bird instincts that he somehow just knows it came from somewhere hundreds of miles that-a-way.

Kidnapping is looking more likely given just how far the kid got, but now?

Now Jason has a way to find him.

He ignores Oracle asking about mask static in favor of hopping down from the balcony he'd paused on and heading back to the batbike - Bruce's paranoia meant it would have more than enough gas to take him as far as he needed to go and then some.

'And more than enough weapons to level a block, if needed,' he thinks viciously.

"Hood!" Oracle’s sharp voice shakes him from his thoughts.

"Found the kid," he shoots back, hoping to avoid the inevitable questioning.

Mixed exclamations of relief and confusion echoed over the radio.

"How!?" Nightwing cries. "I was literally right next to you! What did I miss!?"

"What are you, deaf?" he grumbles back irritably, uncomfortable. It'd be easier if they were, he thinks. Then he wouldn't have to explain.

"Does this have something to do with the static noise your helmet was producing previously? I had worried it was damaged," Oracle asks.

"Static?" Jason echoes, not slowing a bit - nearly to the bike.

"Oh yeah!" Nightwing says, as though she's making perfect sense.

'Ah,' he thinks, 'A shred of mercy in this vastly cruel existence.'

Aloud, he just says, "Yup. He's not in Gotham anymore, though, and I don't know how far he'll end up going or how long I'll be gone. Anyone who wants to come with can catch up, because I'm leaving now."

15 seconds later he's leaping onto the batbike and peeling out.

***

Jason doesn’t chirp again until he’s nearly to Illinois. 

He wants to. He wants to chirp nonstop the moment he hears that first reply, wants to spend the whole hours-long drive listening to nothing but a litany of chirps that reassure him that his kid is alive alive alive.

He won’t risk it. 

He doesn’t know where, exactly, the kid is. Doesn’t know if his family didn’t hear him because the chirps are only audible to him and the kid or if it was really due to a helmet malfunction covering for him. 

But there is a chance that whoever has the kid can hear his chirps, so Jason won’t risk having him respond more than he absolutely has to in order to find him.

The next time, the kid answers back to the very first chirp, and Jason knows he’s heading in the right direction.

He gets turned around just once, overshooting and heaving to loop back, but he curses himself for it anyway - wasting precious time when the kid is going through who knows what.

Then he’s entering Amity Park: a nice place to live.

A nice place to die, for whoever it was that took his kid.

Several chirps later he’s in front of a school - of all things.

He doesn’t waste time doubting himself - kidnapping victims could be stashed anywhere - he storms in, batbike left idling at the base of the front steps.

Three chirps later he’s slamming through a door into a classroom. Full of kids. Taking a totally normal class - aside, of course, from Jason’s interruption.

One last exchange of chirps later and he finally lays eyes on his little shadow - who has the audacity to also look surprised, as if he wasn’t the one to lead him here in the first place.

Jason takes a moment to feel relieved, adrenaline beginning to crash before it revs back up with his indignation.

What happened to ‘goodbye!’ Who in their right mind would disappear from Gotham and not think that those left behind would assume they were kidnapped!? It’s Gotham!

Oh. Oh the child was in Gotham alone.

The child was in Gotham for a vacation.

Oh the child’s parents didn’t even realize he was gone? He’s worried about them putting him in an iron maiden!?

Jason’s eyes may be green, but oh, how his vision is red.

He barely hears the school’s alarm going off when he finally drives off-grounds, laser focused on following the road to the dot that’s popped up on his helmet just a few streets off, sending a curt thank-you to Oracle for saving him the effort of finding the kid’s address himself - she’s done him the courtesy of leaving everyone muted from his end, but he has little doubt they’ve all been listening to him. He’s only surprised she’s willing to condone the murder.

But then, of course she didn’t, he thinks as he pulls into a decently shadowed alley full of bats and birds. He’s torn between being touched that all of them came and being annoyed that he isn’t already in the process of murdering the kid’s parents. 

“New Brother?” Orphan asks the moment the bike is off, head tilting in question from her dumpster-top perch.

A second, smaller sense of outrage bubbles up next to the first, and it is a testament to his impeccable self-control that his hand only twitches over his gun at the question.

Bruce - Batman - tries to say something, but before he can finish even just the first syllable Jason’s head is snapping around to glare hell at him, and a low, animalistic growl practically rips itself from his throat.

He can see the way everyone tenses - subtle to anyone else, but a glaring neon sign in Jason’s vision. 

He curses himself for it; he asked them to be here. He specifically requested their help, and they gave it. The more of them there are involved, the faster they can help the kid into a safer environment.

But Jason came here to help the kid, not to offer him up as the next sacrifice in Batman’s long line of child soldiers.

“You wanna help? Great. Rule One: YOU,” he points at the bat for emphasis, “can’t adopt him.”

He chokes on whatever he was intending to say next at Orphan’s delighted clap and exclamation of “nephew!”

He wants to correct her, but… he doesn’t. 

Crime Alley is no place to raise a kid; Jason knows that.

He knows it more than anyone, having spent his early years there and his most recent years trying to make it better. He knows that.

But h- the kid is a meta. 

Looking at the facts: the kid is meta.

The kid is meta whose first concern with rule breaking is punishment via torture device.

The kid’s parents are neglectful enough that he spent over a week in Gotham and they never even noticed.

The kid went to Gotham to escape his home.

Whether his parents know that he is a meta or not, it is clear to Jason that the kid needs to be Out Of That House. Yesterday.

But he also knows just how metas are treated - even the MPA can only do so much against the tides of hatred and fear. 

And he’s seen the maps - he knows this state is one of the worse ones for metas to live in, let alone a meta child at the mercy of a foster family that has even odds of neglecting him, being just as bad as his original family, or possibly actually caring about him.

Crime Alley is no place to raise a kid, and Red Hood is far from the right person for such a job.

But Crime Alley isn’t all that Gotham is, and perhaps Jason Todd could very easily decide to get an apartment in a nicer area.

He won’t lie to himself, he knows he isn’t parent material, but he’ll at least be a step up from what the kid is used to while he works to vet a real family to transfer him to. 

He’s halfway through his mental checklist of the options for the safest place for an apartment and other such logistics when he’s reminded of where he is by Oracle’s voice in his ear.

“Hate to interrupt the group brooding you guys have going on over there, but I managed to dig up… a lot of information about the boy and his family situation.”

He notes how the others all perk up from where they’d been…staring at him. 

Ah, that was why it was so quiet. They were staring in disbelief when he didn’t deny the nephew thing. Well. A conversation for another time.

“Lay it on me,” he says to Oracle, ignoring them.

“His name is Daniel James Fenton, goes by Danny, high grades throughout elementary and middle school until they took a steep drop at the beginning of highschool - likely related to whatever happened when his metagene activated. 

Has one sibling, a sister named Jasmine Fenton - no middle name. She goes by Jazz. High grades across the board with no notable dips. No indication of possible metagene in any of  her records or in Danny’s, beyond the grade drop and your own first-hand experience.

Parents Jack and Madeline “Maddie” Fenton. They have their own personal website where they describe themselves as “ectobiologists” and as ghost hunters. The pictures in their gallery show a vast array of weapons - dubbed “ectoweapons” - in the same chrome-green style with the name “Fenton” stamped somewhere on them. Some of the weapons are for sale on their site, advertised for defending oneself against ghosts. There are some pictures of what must be their lab, all of which look to include at least 12 different types of OSHA violation, and the image in their site’s “about” section has the whole family standing in the lab in front of what looks like a vertical Lazarus Pit.”

“What,” Batman says more than asks, voice tense.

“And judging by the staircase seen reflecting off of one of the guns in the picture, it seems that this lab is in their basement - I can’t see why it wouldn’t be, given they were fine with putting an enormous monstrosity of a satellite on top of their building.

There are plenty of cameras in the house itself, but for some reason all I can get from them is static. Any video or audio in the house that they don’t put on their site appears to be unusable for some reason. 

All told, there is plenty of cause to get CPS involved. If their lab safety is even half as bad as it looks and it’s in their basement it’s pretty much a sure thing that the kids’ll be taken from them. 

Given the small-towny nature of the area it’ll be best to contact someone from outside of the community for the case. It’ll move things along significantly if we have somewhere to send them.

They have an aunt, Alicia Walker, but she’s already marked down as a “no” for taking them in in the event something should happen to the Fentons. 

This leaves their godfather: Vlad Masters. An incredibly reclusive billionaire, pursued the same Paranormal Science degree as the Fentons did when they were in college, but suffered an accident that put him in the hospital for two years with an unknown illness that Masters was allowed to name “ecto-acne.” Lost all contact with the Fentons until he invited them to a reunion party last fall and was named godfather three weeks later.

Masters got his wealth through a series of suspicious business deals. No one has been able to prove foul play yet, but just glancing over some of the early papers is already showing plenty of inconsistencies.

No other relatives - the Walker parents passed away some time ago, and while one of the Fentons remains, she’s in a nursing home. And also disowned Jack. And went out of her way to disown both Jazz and Danny as soon as she heard about them.”

“Great. Make Jason Todd a long lost cousin, set CPS on them. Red Hood is here because Danny ran away to Gotham and stuck his nose in crime alley so I tracked him down because I thought he was kidnapped in my territory, the Bats chased down Red Hood thinking he was gonna hurt the boy, CPS is there because your research turned up the potential unsafe living conditions and you overheard that the kid was gone for a week without anyone noticing - which scream neglect. Now we’re cooperating because we’re all annoyed at the parents that let their kid wander all the way to Gotham and convinced him that a torture device was a possible grounding option.”

He turns to Batman. 

“You can claim to have done a DNA search to find the connection, and I’m sure you can find a reason to dismiss Masters as an option. Make sure to have them call Jason as soon as possible. Oracle-”

“Already routing incoming calls through Gotham. Also, both of Masters’ residences have inaccessible cameras similar to what I’m experiencing with the Fentons. He can be dismissed under suspicion of having an OSHA nightmare in his home. I’ll see if he has his own vertical Lazarus Pit while you all work on exfiltrating the niece and nephew.”Jason doesn’t dignify that with a response, hopping back on his bike to follow the new route - this time actually to the Fenton household.

[angels-fantasy]

Top Secret Fiction Ch. 2

First Date Jitters

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Description: After meeting the one and only pro hero Dynamight on a dating app, you two begin to see each other. Because of the dangers that come with his hero work, you both promise to be completely honest with each other from the beginning; though you can't help but keep one big secret from him.

You write fan fiction, mostly about him.

Chapter Details: theres a date ;) fluff, a little bit of anxiety/self consciousness on readers part. also reader has a quirk that allows them to talk to plants! it's talked about more in the next chapter

Word Count: 1.1k

previous chapter

It was now Saturday, the day of your date with Bakugou - which he told you to call him. He said Dynamight was too professional.

Since he had asked you out, the two of you had talked to each other everyday leading up to today. Sometimes even sending voice memos and photos to each other, which was nice. It was reassuring knowing it was actually him on the other side of the phone and not some random person playing a prank on you.

Currently you were getting ready for the date. He still didn't tell you where he was taking you, but he told you to dress nicely, but not over the top.

Whatever that meant.

As you added the finishing touches to your look, you smoothed down your clothing and looked yourself over in the mirror.

"I think this is okay...right?" You asked yourself.

"Mrow"

You looked at your feet and saw Cheerios standing in between them, looking up at you.

"Oh hey Cheerios!" You said and squatted down to his level, "You admiring me or what? Do I look okay?"

"Mroooww"

You giggled and lightly gripped his tail as he walked away, letting it run through your hand, "Thanks for your help."

Grabbing your phone, you looked at the time and saw that it was almost 5:30 pm, so you decided to wait in the living room until Bakugou told you he was here.

As you sat on the couch you couldn't help but bounce your leg nervously. You weren't so nervous about him being a catfish anymore, right now you were worried about how you looked.

Would he like what he sees? Would you be good enough for him? Oh god what if you get food stuck in your teeth or something. Would he even tell you?!

You didn't know how much time passed while you were wallowing in anxiety, but your phone ringing broke you out of it.

Looking at the caller ID, you saw it was Bakugou.

"Already?!" You cried, quickly composing yourself and answering the phone.

"Hi Bakugou! Are you here already?" You asked in a fake cheery tone.

"Yeah. Your place is the one with the big flower pots outside right?"

"Yep. I'll be out there right now, let me put my shoes on."

"'Kay. Bye."

"Bye!"

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding and hastily put your shoes on, making sure to grab your keys.

While leaving you made sure to say bye to Cheerios, who only glanced at you from his spot on top of the couch, and to your plants who also said goodbye.

As soon as you stepped outside you locked your door and turned around to see an all black Camaro, which was probably the latest model. The windows were tinted, so you couldn't really see through them.

You walked towards the car nervously and opened the passenger door, seeing Bakugou in the drivers seat.

"Hi Bakugou, thank you for picking me up." You said as you got into the car.

Seeing him in person was much different than seeing him on TV or in photos. He didn't look bad at all, if anything he looked better. His eyes seemed to be an even brighter red in person.

He shook his head lightly, "'S no problem. You uh, you look really nice." He said quietly.

You smiled. "Thank you. I was worried I didn't dress the part, especially since you didn't tell me where we're going." You said teasingly.

He clicked his tongue and began driving. "I already told ya, it's a secret."

Laughing lightly at his words, you looked him over and his outfit. He had on a black cotton t-shirt tucked into a pair of black dress pants and a belt with a silver buckle. He was also wearing a silver chain and a very expensive looking watch to match.

Now looking at his face, you noticed that his ears were pierced. On his lobes he had diamond earrings, and a little higher up he had a helix piercing.

Cute.

"See something ya like or what?" He asked with a smirk.

Your face went hot, "Uh-sorry. I was just looking at your piercings."

He brought a hand up to his ear, fiddling with the earring. "Huh. I forgot that not everybody knows I have these. I replace them with clear piercings when I'm working."

"How long have you had them?" You asked.

"Since my third year of high school, I think. It's been a while."

The two of you continued to make small talk on the way to...wherever you were going. You were glad that he wasn't hard to talk to, considering the fact that first dates are always a little awkward.

When you finally arrived at your destination, you were expecting to see a restaurant, not a large open field of flowers with some patches of grass.

"Hey Bakugou, where are we?" You asked while looking out at the field.

"It's a flower field. You said you like them, right?" He asked as he began getting out of the car.

"Yeah, I do." You said and followed his actions. "You do realize how suspicious this is right? You're not gonna murder me or something are you?"

He smiled at you as he opened the trunk, "Nah, not until the fifth date." he said jokingly.

You laughed and watched as he lifted a large picnic basket with a folded blanket on top, out of his trunk.

"Do you need help carrying that?" You asked.

"No, just shut the trunk for me will ya?"

You did as he said and followed him into the flower field. He led you to a plain patch of grass near some flowers and began to lay out the blanket.

"A picnic date huh? I didn't peg you as the type."

"I wasn't gonna take you out somewhere with shitty food and shitty people." He sneered and motioned to the spot next to him on the blanket, telling you to sit down.

You sat down and asked, "So if the food you brought isn't shitty, where is it from?"

"I made it all." He said as you two unpacked all of the food. Now on the blanket, there were two bento boxes filled with tonkatsu, tamagoyaki, chicken karaage, and some vegetables.

There was another small box filled with onigiri. Bakugou continued unpacking the basket, handing you a bottle of water.

"Here. If you want something else to drink, I brought some sodas too. I wasn't sure what you'd want..." He trailed off, ears tinted red.

You smiled widely at him. "This is fine. Thank you Bakugou, this is really sweet and the food looks really good!"

The red on ears brightened even more, "Thanks. Just make sure to grab the green bento for yourself. The other one is spicier, since it's mine."

You hummed and grabbed the green bento box.

The date seemed to be going well so far, and you could only hope it'd stay that way.

...

next chapter

authors note

i hope you liked this chapter ! idk why but i think bakugou would be the type to take you on a picnic date, i hope you agree! also sorry for the little cliff hanger tee hee. i'm probably gonna post the next chapter in a day or two so you don't have to wait too long!

taglist: @doumadono @54fangirl @andysdrafts @dagger-dragger @lovra974 @l4rsun1vrrse @emmab3mma @littlkittenfan @tatiquichi @cloudxluv @seonne @shonen-brainrot @the2ndl

those in pink cannot be tagged for some reason!

[meganelixabethh]

I know I won’t get it- but I want Sunrise on the Reaping to be about Effie Trinket- it would be such a good book!!! All we really know is that the book starts on the 50th reaping and that it’s a look at propaganda. We also know our girl Suzanne only writes when she has something to say- and what better time to make the Effie Trinket Point than now?

Don’t get me wrong- I love to read the fanfics of Effie being disenfranchised from the top of the first book and helping the rebels every step of the way- I live for it- but I also don’t think it’s reality for the canon. Effie Trinket is a character with grey morality at best in the first book. No she’s not organising the games, or planning them, she’s not the iron fist that forces the children to comply nor is she the driving force behind the tradition- hell if she didn’t do it someone else would, right? But she picks the names. She chooses to be close to it. She isn’t as horrified as she should be

SHE. IS. COMPLICIT.

But if you asked her- if you sat her down and said heart of hearts, do you care about these children? She would say yes. She has a complete mental disconnect between the harm she is causing and the compassion she feels for the people being harmed. This is a direct comparison to the modern approach to harm. Just look at Palestine.

I also don’t believe Effie saw anything wrong with the games until one very specific moment. She looked at the glass ball at the 75th reaping and saw a single piece of paper, and she thought ‘this isn’t chance. This isn’t a game. This is a choice and I don’t want to pick up that slip of paper’. I whole heartedly believe it took an emotional closeness to the person being harmed to make her realise all those people were just the same as her- EXACTLY LIKE WE DO IN THE WEST.

Further details under the cut. TW for death, implied SA and pregnancy loss.

So the book starts with the 50th reaping- Effie is between 6 and 16 depending on how old you think she is. I personally think she’s about 8-10. I also think this is the first games where she’s really gotten involved in and is interested in the whole thing from start to finish. She watches the reapings and is absolutely enraptured with Haymitch from the moment he gets on stage- full on little girl crush mode. She follows the whole game and is so happy when he wins. This is the summer she decides she wants to work in the games. She follows the games every summer, gets a glamorous games job in the Capitol when she graduates (I think she went to uni tbh our girl is smart) and then became an escort.

When she’s offered 12 she’s annoyed- after all she’s the darling of the games circuit and she’s put her time in- but 12 is the only job going and if she wants the promotion she needs to take it. She thinks fondly of Haymitch’s games though. She no longer has her little girl crush on him, but she assumes the drunkenness must be an act for the Capitol, some kind of play. When she gets to 12 she realises it’s not. She sees how broken he is. She sees that this destroyed him and she just… doesn’t get it. She develops a fondness for him, still completely believing in the games, and they work together happily enough as far as she’s concerned. She starts dragging him out of bed and shoving him into nice clothes to make the district look good at first, but then she does it because she thinks it might be the only time he has anyone making sure he looks after himself. She is genuinely sad when their tributes die every year. She cries in her room at night after they go, and Haymitch can hear her through the wall when he’s sober enough.

Then the 74th happen. She loves Katniss and Peeta- I fully believe that. She likes them from the beginning, she agrees they have a chance, and when she’s not trying for sponsors, her and Haymitch sit in silence in the penthouse, watching and watching and watching. She grips his hand tightly for hours at a time, eyes almost unblinking and fixed on the screen, knees drawn up to her chest. It’s the first time he sees her as human, and she almost breaks his knuckles during the finale with the mutts. The moment they win, she lets out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding and went to celebrate her first victors. She deliberately turned her face away from the horror because it was easier to not feel the breadth of it. She does exactly what we did to Ukraine. What we continue to do to Palestine.

To be completely clear- she still thinks the games are right through all of this. When she comes back for the victory tour she still thinks this is all fantastic. That mental disconnect is still there. But then eleven happens. If I’m remembering right she gets blood on her and is freaking out about her dress but I would like to see that from her side. I want to see that an innocent man was shot through the head so close to her, his blood and brains splattered across her dress and her skin. I want to see her freak out and everyone assume it’s about the dress but it’s actually about the fact she saw the light leave his eyes. This is the night she goes to Haymitch. She asks him for a drink and she asks him if he thought the man felt it. He isn’t kind to her. He asks her if she ever wondered if the kids felt it? If he felt it? This is the first time they sleep together. She doesn’t spend the night in his cabin. Their physical relationship continues but nothing else changes.

Then the quarter quell- she’s upset when Snow announces the rules. She feels hard done by but also scared for Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch. She understands that she’s avoiding the issue in her mind but she clings to the idea that the games are good so she doesn’t have to face up to the horror she helped meter out. It’s that glass reaping ball that does it. That glass ball with a single slip of paper in that breaks the back of her indoctrination. It all falls on top of her all at once. Her sobs after the bloodbath, alone in her room, the desperation she felt, not just for Katniss and Peeta to live, but for her to not have to watch them die, the man in eleven, the quarter quell, Hatmitch’s sharp words, the drink she craved after she saw it, the smile she plastered on, Haymitch’s hand gripped tightly in hers, the most genuine connection she’s felt in years and oh god are you supposed to be this fucking tired when you’re only 35? She looks at that paper and she is almost incandescent with rage. She loves Katniss and she doesn’t want to be the one who says her name. She doesn’t want to do this anymore. She doesn’t want this life. She doesn’t want the games to happen at all. She’s done.

But now she’s afraid. She’s seen avoxes, she knows what happens to rebels and she’s not quite brave enough to say anything to Haymitch other than veiled comments. She’s not sure he agrees with her and he’s not sure it wasn’t an accidental turn of phrase. The moment the arena blows out she’s dragged away in handcuffs. The prison is harrowing. What little hair she has is shaved off and she spends hours having questions thrown at her that she doesn’t have the answers to. She’s beaten, electrocuted and starved. Her bones are broken, they pull a few of her teeth out and some of the things they do are so awful she can’t even bring herself to think about it inside her own head. She doesn’t feel brave. She doesn’t have the answers to give them and she’s not sure she wouldn’t tell them if she did. She’s too Capitol for the rebels and too district for the Capitol. She’s not rescued, she’s released at the end of the war. Well, ‘released’ is a strong word. The guards unlock all the doors and tell them they have been pardoned and then walk out. She drags herself outside, clutching the walls and collapses in the courtyard as a humanitarian aid worker rushes over.

She spends the first tumultuous month sedated in a hospital bed, blissfully unaware of Coin’s assassination and the last games. When she comes to, Haymitch is sat at her bedside, looking haggard and tired. She looks better than she did on the floor of the courtyard, but not by much. When he sees her open her eyes he smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He apologises for not managing to get her out. She knows she should be cross with him, but she can’t find the energy to blame him. They’ve both wasted so much time already. She pushes herself up shakily and wraps her atrophied arms around his neck, telling him that it doesn’t matter, that he’s here now. When he lowers her back down, she asks immediately after Katniss and Peeta. He tells her what happened in as painless terms as he can find, and when he’s done, she can barely keep her eyes open, tears tracking silently down her hollowed cheeks. He gently kisses her on the forehead and says he’ll be back tomorrow. It takes her a long, long time to recover.

She finds out the rest of what happened while she was imprisoned and hospitalised in dribs and drabs. Some from him, some from news, some from conversations she overhears. It takes months and months before she tells him, in halting sentences, when happened in the prison. She doesn’t tell him everything. Some things are too awful to know. They’ve not resumed their physical relationship, but they feel inexplicably drawn to one another, and in a fit of impulsivity, he invites her to come to 12 when he leaves and she does. He doesn’t ask a lot of questions, but she does tell him, eventually, all the things that led to her renouncing the games just before the rebellion. He admits to her the doctor told him she was pregnant when they found her, but miscarried while she was asleep. She can’t get out of bed for days afterwards and he brings her food and water until she’s ready to get up again. She’s glad he knows in a way. She’s glad she never had to tell him.

The next summer rolls around, and Effie is finally well enough to walk up to the woods outside the district and spends all day picking wildflowers. She ties them into attractive arrangements just like her mother taught her, using brown string instead of satin ribbons. Haymitch is in the newly built square when she arrives with her flowers. She lays them all gently on the ground, one for each child she reaped, including Prim. Haymitch walks over to her as she bows her head, slipping her hand into his. She says she’s sorry, he says ‘I know sweetheart’ and the book ends there

I know we aren’t going to get this, it’s not even a possibility but a girl can dream.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Right after bob’s death, stevo stays at your place because staying at his was too much. Basically just the reader loving on stevo is all. Their relationship doesn’t really matter as long as its clear that they are soulmates in some capacity. I think stevo just needs to let himself be loved. Grief and depression is horrible to go through alone so its great to have someone who gets it with you as you heal you know?

𝒪𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓎ℴ𝓊

A/n: This was kinda hard to write, but I definitely needed to

Taglist: @abriefnirvana

Warnings: death, angst to fluff, grief

He wiped the tears away as he got into his car, he breathed a shaky breath as he looked at himself in the car mirror. He was disheveled, with a tangled mop of hair and wrinkled clothes.

Stevo's mind raced with thoughts of where to spend the night. And then it hit him - you were the only other person he wanted to be with right now. You would know what to do now.

Without a second thought, he stepped on the gas pedal and raced towards you as fast as his old car could go.

As he rushed towards your apartment, no matter how hard he tried to stop them, the tears streamed down his cheeks while Bad Religion blared on the radio.

He found himself thinking about Bob. Was he a bad friend for leaving him like that? He felt horrible, but he wasn’t sure about what else to do.

The image stayed in his mind, almost causing a crash as his thoughts raced, his hands acting faster than his head.

Finally, after what felt like the longest drive in history, he reached your place. He looked at a bottle of beer on the side of his door, drinking it as if he was a college kid who had just been dared to. He would need it tonight. Then he laid his eyes on someone outside.

As you were taking out the trash, you saw a small baby cat nearby and smiled. You knelt, and the cat shyly approached you. It rubbed against your leg as you looked into its curious eyes and pet it with care.

He stumbled out of his car door, the sound making you turn your head and the cat also turn its head to him.

“Stevo?” you mumbled to yourself. You recognized the blue hair quickly, and he looked at you. He was…crying?

"Stevo," you said, as you dropped your trash on the floor and hurried towards him. He was crying uncontrollably, and when he saw you, he wrapped his arms around you. You were taken aback by the sudden embrace, but you rubbed his back to give him some sort of comfort. "Oh, Stevo," you whispered softly.

He cried, tears staining your shirt as he buried his head in your shoulder. People came outside when they heard the cries.

“You're the only one I have left.” he cried into your shoulder.

“C’mon, let's go inside, okay?” you weren't sure what had happened, but it made your heart break.

You had been lifelong friends since middle school and stuck together like glue. Despite your longstanding feelings for him, you never told him how you felt in fear of him not having the same feelings.

He thought you were too sweet to him, too nice in this cruel, unjust world.

The little cat watched as you both walked up the stairs. Stevo looked back at its copper eyes and black fur, following his moves like a lucky cat in a store.

You led him inside, his sobs became more quiet and slowed down as he rubbed his eyes with his hand and sat down on a chair at your table. He felt like a loser, a poser. But you were one of the only people he knew wouldn’t judge him.

You shut the door and turned to him. It was silent for a moment while you both stared at each other.

“What happened?” you asked softly, making your way to the chair next to him.

He looked down at the ground while he explained what happened this morning. Bob had died of an overdose, your eyes widened as you listened and looked at him with sadness.

“I’m.. so sorry. Steven.. that’s horrible.” You said once he finished.

Steven. You hadn’t used his real name in ages.

He didn’t know how to respond, he simply just looked down.

“Uhm… you want me to call for you? So you don’t have to? I can tell them what happened so he can get buried, and everything else…”

He looked up now. “You’d do that?”

You nodded and smiled at him.

"Stevo, I am here for you, whether you need anything or want to talk. I’m here for you.”

“Thank you.” he mumbled, feeling himself about to cry again.

You went over to him, he stood up and hugged you again, when you both pulled away you smiled softly and wiped his tears away.

"You can stay for as long as you need, okay?" you spoke softly.

You led him into your room, telling him to chill in there for a second while you called the police. They said they had to question you, but you did not mention Stevo at all, so as long as he didn’t have to, you were fine with it.

You hung up and sighed, rubbing your forehead. You felt horrible for Stevo, who had to see his best friend and roommates dead body in front of him, crying for him.

You entered the room for and climbed into the bed beside him. He gazed at you with red, tired eyes, and wrapped his arms around your body. You reciprocated the gesture, holding him close and not wanting to let go, playing with his hair as he rested his head on your chest.

You kissed the top of his head, and in any situation, he would've questioned the action. But right now it was just what he needed.

He fell asleep quickly in your arms, his eyes heavy. You wished it happened under better circumstances.

[bcolfanfic]

need more about the bucks' baby micah, headcanons or blurb i want more!!! (please, and when you have time ofc)

for ref

doing this in headcan0ns list form bc im tired from the time zone switch back to the states

the bucks do, as reffed in that blurb, turn the car around from going to wisconisn to go back to wyoming. end up having to get a hotel somewhere for the night so they don't drive more or less 20 hours roundtrip themselves into an early grave. but yeah.

swing josie by gale's sister’s house on the way back to sheridan. don't explain all the details but have to give her *some* explanation when they go from headed them to wisconsin to now suddenly back in wyoming.

maybe don't explain that this baby is her biological sibling right away but just. say that someone they know needs help with their baby, and that they gotta go back because they don't want him to be in the hospital by himself. pretty word salady but they're exhausted and she's five so. it is what is for the time being.

get to the hospital and get scrubbed in to down to the nicu with natalie to go see him. john's head still feels like his head is still in in spin-mode to the extent that he's not really processing everything fully.

but gale sees that itty bitty baby in his little nicu incubator with a little tube in his nose and is just. distraught.

has to sit down after a minute because its making his chest hurt. he just can't fathom how little he is and how he's in *danger* and how connected he already feels to him.

he gets reallll "woowoo" about the fact that he finally brought up wanting another kid to john all of 20 minutes before they got the call about him. feels like he somehow already intrinsically knew about him before he actually knew.

so kinda the reverse of how it was with josie- gale instantly feels bonded to him and john has a little bit of a harder time.

loves him so much already, is worried sick with all the preemie health stuff he's got going on. its just hard to process how fast everything is happening. if him and gale had sat down and decided to go the infant adoption route that'd be one thing.

in that case he'd have a lot more time to work through his hurdles re: being scared of having a baby, of being responsible for someone's life from scratch etc etc. but here he only had the drive back from wisconsin.

calls his mom a lot. calls curt a lot. that helps.

lil guy doesn't have a name for the first week of his life lmao. they just call him buddy and baby boy and then john is sitting up w/ gale one night and asks if he's given any thought to his name.

they land on micah curtis. micah as a riff off of michael the archangel, and curtis after their best friend (:

curt cries when he finds out. sweet man.

john's mom comes out from wisconsin and when she's there at the hospital that's when both the bucks go to gale's sister's house and have to explain to josie- the best they can- the full details.

poor peanut is so conflicted about Everything. has been confused about not seeing either of her dads in the same room for almost two weeks. is excited about having a baby sibling- but confused about why if he's /her/ sibling from her mom why she can't see her mom.

just a lot of Big Feelings, which gale and john handle the best that they can. good dads <3

i think it finally really Clicks for john when micah is doing okay enough that theyre allowed to hold him. looks at that lil guy in his lil nicu baby beanie sleeping on his chest and just. yeah. big thats my son, i would do anything for you feelings.

john gets really into sitting by his lil incubator and reading to him. nice way to bond that isn't super overwhelming. makes gale heart happy to watch. his boyssss.

this is getting super long lmao so ill cut if off here. but i wove micah- and rachel and i have developed a looottt of lore about him as a teenager/young adult (specifically re: him and wyatt- helen's baby with nash/ev's step son). so feel free to come prompt me to yap more!

[billcipher-rpblog]

Would you happen to know this one song? I forget its name, but it's a good song. Here, I'll type out the lyrics for you:

"We'll meet again

Don't know where

Don't know when

But I know we'll meet again some sunny day

Keep smiling through

Just like you always do

'Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away

So will you please say hello

To the folks that I know

Tell them I won't be long

They'll be happy to know

That as you saw me go

I was singing this song

We'll meet again

Don't know where

Don't know when

But I know we'll meet again some sunny day

We'll meet again

Don't know where

Don't know when

But I know we'll meet again some sunny day

Keep smiling through

Just like you always do

'Til the blue skies

Drive the dark clouds far away

So will you please say hello

To the folks that I know

Tell them it won't be long

They'll be happy to know

That as you saw me go

I was singin' this song

We'll meet again

Don't know where

Don't know when

But I know we'll meet again some sunny day."

❤️----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------🩵

It's a sweet song, isn't it? Almost kind of nostalgic in a way, huh?

I think she sang that song, maybe. I think she was scared but she sang that song hoping her little boy would hear it. I think she was scared but she didn't close her eyes, and tried not to cry. Because if she cried, her tears would obstruct her view. If she cried, she wouldn't be able to see those magnificent stars her little boy was always talking about. She wanted to see them, at least. For his sake. She wanted to see what he so desperately wanted everyone else to see. So she grabbed her husband's hand. Held it tight and intertwined their fingers as they both looked up at the stars. As she finally gave into the tears, but still looking up, looking at the stars and hoping to catch one last glimpse of her Billy as she sang him one last song.

Sad to think about, yeah? Good thing this is definitely something I made up entirely in NY head that never happened!! :D

(Hiii, Mod. This is my contribution to the Bully the Triangle Foundation™. I really enjoy following this blog and love how in character you are. It's hard to master but I think you've done it perfectly! The chaos, the false inflated ego, the aggressive outbursts, the Billford denial, the momentary gaps in his facade when you get to see the pain he feels. You capture it all so well! Good job! :] )

... WHERE.. WHERE DID YOU GET ALL THIS FROM?

(Mod: Thank you so much!! That's so nice of you :D)

[theemporium]

Ok more werewolf!dando (canon concept of being a wolf in this world: you usually don’t get your heat until you meet your mate - it can happen but it almost never does)

you’re being dragged out of the house by the elbow, asking Daniel what the hell is going on, getting pulled out the door when suddenly you hear Lando whimper at the loss - your heart shatters and your stomach drops at the sound, which you realize you had only heard before when you were a little girl holding your brand new cocker spaniel puppy and tripped and fell while holding him, the sense of betrayal from a sweet little creature that trusts you to care for it seeping into your bones

you realize that Daniel’s eyes are on you and hardening by the second, willing you to ignore the mewls and cries, and you can only say “how can I leave him like this, Danny? I think he needs me? He’s breaking my heart, I think I have to go” and yank your arm away to walk back into the house

“What about what I need? What about my mate, my bond, my *relationship*? I can’t let that little mutt jeopardize the life we’ve built together just because he’s got the red rocket!”

You hear Lando cry again, this time even sharper and more desperate, and a shiver runs down your spine, almost as though you’re being gravitationally pulled to the green-eyed pup, and spit back at Daniel “imagine what it would be been like if I had ignored you when you used to need me like this! you forget so easily that you used to cry like that too, used to leave my skin black and blue from your mouth and your hips, but now we’re grownups, right? Now I sometimes totally miss you being in heat because you’re a big wolf who *has himself under control* but god fucking forbid I should want that closeness! Carlos can’t give it to me, Max sure as hell can’t! God forbid I should miss the days where I was the center of your world and the solution to all your problems! I bet you didn’t even know that I’m ovulating right now, so that must be why -“ you were cut off by a particularly plaintive yelp “I have to go. I’ll get Max to drive me home”

Now it was Daniel’s turn to feel his heart sink, sitting down in his car to drive home and realizing that all the things he did with the intention of making your life easier, all of the things he did to make himself as close to the nice, normal human boyfriend he thought you deserved were chipping away at your self-esteem and he had been so oblivious as to totally ignore what you needed

he turns off the car and walks back into Max’s house to find you on the couch with Lando, carding your fingers through his curls and telling him “I don’t think I can let you take my clothes off until I have a real talk with Danny about it, lovebug” while he thrusts into the swell of your jeans-clad hip and hums as he sucks a line of bruises down your collarbone

Daniel clears his throat to get your attention and asks in a small voice “are you two ready to go home?” and Lando’s face lights up with the understanding that he wasn’t bad or wrong for feeling like this and that Daniel was at least open to accepting his feelings for you

clambering off the couch, Lando approaches Daniel cautiously as his elder gives him a once-over and says “it looks like she’s your mate too - I will teach you everything you need to know but you have to swear on the lives of the pack that she becomes the star you orbit around starting now, do you understand?” the pup nods vigorously and runs to the backseat of the car

after a ride that felt like an eternity, you unlocked the door to yours and Daniel’s house and immediately find yourself body slammed against the nearest wall under Lando’s weight, with Daniel coming up behind him to tut “now, don’t you think we ought to let our sweet girl freshen up for a moment while we get to know each other a bit better? Come into the bedroom with me” and a pair of giant green eyes lock on your man’s smiling brown ones all the way there

you take the few minutes you’re afforded to slip into a prettier bra and panties that actually match and to spray yourself with a perfume you hadn’t worn in years but that was your favorite when you and Daniel met

you hear the wet sounds of Lando kissing marks down Daniel’s torso, groaning as long fingers grasp his hair and gagging as he attempts to lower himself throat-first onto Daniel’s cock

taking that as your cue, you step into the room and say “easy there, Tiger, we’ll work you up to that one” and immediately have both of their attention, Daniel standing up to take your hand and kiss it and lead you by it to the bed, sitting down and nestling you between his legs

“Alright, puppy, show us what you’ve got” he smirks, and Lando looks at you with eyes blown wide for the okay to move - Daniel mumbling under his breath what a good boy he is for waiting - latching himself to the skin of your chest and almost howling at the feeling of his rock hard cock rubbing against your lace panties and whispering “anything?” when you tell him he can do anything he wants to you

He gets overwhelmed, wanting simultaneously to thrust into you and to suckle on your chest and, in his panic, he freezes until Daniel offers to get you ready for him and asks you to get on all fours over top of the pup, who cries like never before at the sight of your tits dangling in his face - when you give them both the go, he latches on like a man starved and Daniel starts drawing stars and secret messages over your clit with his tongue all the way up until you collapse, convulsing on top of Lando as you come

Daniel leans down to plant a kiss on Lando and says “good work, pup, do you want to fuck her or for me to fuck you as your reward?” and Lando meekly asks if he can have both, to which Daniel grins broadly and tells him that of course he can

while you recover, Daniel works Lando open, clucking over how lucky he is to take the anal virginity of such a sweet boy and asking if he wants to enter or be entered first - the pup wants you on your side first, so he can wrap himself around you and suck on your neck as he braces for impact, and that’s exactly what he gets

when you’re all collapsed into one sticky, heaving, fucked out mess twenty minutes later and Lando is already asleep between you, you lean over and whisper into Daniel’s ear, “so, can we keep him?”

bless their wee hearts

[gemini-sensei]

Will Alexopoulos!Reader forgive or forget Hawk?

Part One | Part Two | Part 4 coming soon at some point

Sorry this took so long. I'm almost done with this semester and it's been taking up my time. Also, I cried writing this, so that had something to do with it too. I literally had to stop because I couldn't see what I was typing through the tears lol.

@sensei-venus (unedited)

"This is so cute," Moon giggles as she holds up a cute baby dress. It was light brown jumper with big buttons on the front. She picks up a forest green shirt and hold it against the rompers, smiling. "What do you think?"

Reader looks up and gasps softly. She holds up a pair of socks that match the shirt. "I love it!"

They squeal and gush over the clothes, sharing a quick kiss after tossing them into the basket. Moon loves spoiling Reader with all the little things, little as in baby clothes, baby toys, baby anything. It puts a smile on Reader's face, which is a nice change from the dreary and closed off pace they were working at before.

As they continue their little shopping spree, they don't see Hawk watching them from afar. He stays a good distance away, unable to hear what they're saying but seeing everything. He sees the way they giggle and look at each other, sees they was Moon caresses Reader's belly and talks to the baby inside, sees the way she carries everything for Reader and pulls out her seat for her. His heart twists up and clenches as he watches, torn between love and jealousy.

That should be him with Reader, cuddling her and carrying her bags through the store. It should be him kissing her with excitement over little baby items. Him that pulls out her chair and helps her stand back up again later; drives her to appointments and hangs out with her family as they prepare for the arrival of the baby. It should all be him...

But he knows it can't be. He fucked up.

He mistook ignoring her for protecting her from his dark side, from Cobra Kai. He hooked up with her whilst telling her how much he cared about her, poured his heart out to her that night only to lock it up again. He got her pregnant the first and only time they ever had sex, and now he can't get close enough to her without her completely breaking down with hurt feelings and betrayl.

He knows why he can't get close to her, but he wishes he could. He wants nothing more than a single chance to tell her how sorry he is and how much he loves her and the baby.

Watching her with Moon is torment, but he can't look away. He watches her heal while he continues to tear himself down for the stupid decision he made months ago. Part of him is happy that she's happy, another part of him is upset that it's not with him, and a secret third part of him is dying inside without her.

He hates himself more than he ever did before. For hurting her, for putting her in this position, for abandoning her and their baby girl-

Their baby girl.

He's so happy it's a little girl. All he can see is Reader holding a little chubby carbon copy of herself, round and cute cheeks, pretty eyes, a mop of hair on her head, beautiful smile. He wonders all the time what she'll name the baby, a whole slew of ideas coming to mind but he doesn't think Reader would like anything he came up with. Not that he'd ever get the chance to tell her.

Their giggles rip him from his thoughts as they exit the store, Moon's arms full of shopping bags. Reader carried a small one a her side, a big smile on her face. Her other hand cradles her belly as they go about their day, as if they were blissfully the only two people there.

Hawk bows his head, feeling stupid and alone. The last thing he wants to do is feel sorry for himself, and yet, here he is...

Something has to change.

○○○

"Hey, Moon, got a second?" a voice calls from behind. She turns, wide smile faltering as she sees Hawk approaching. She was apprehensive about him, given his karate training, attitude, and Reader's adamant avoidance of him. "I just wanted to ask you something."

She crosses her arms as she watches him. "Make it quick."

She didn't really care if she came off as rude to Hawk, fairly aware of how his presence makes Reader feel. She's calmed her girlfriend down numerous times because of his mere arrival into a room, as it seemed to be too close for comfort. They stayed away as much as possible, though she never asked why. She has her suspicions, but never tries to assume. If and when Reader is ready to tell, she'll be there to listen.

"I was wondering if you could talk to Reader for me. I really need to talk to her, but I know I'm not her favorite person right now," Hawk explains, casting his gaze down on the ground. He licks his lips then quickly adds, "I just want to tell her how sorry I am... for a lot of the shit I've done. We use to be so close and now we're not and- and um..."

Moon heard the defeat in his voice, the sorrow. Not having Reader around really brought him down, which she had noticed a change in his behavior as of recent, but didn't pay him much mind. She tries to steer clear of him, after all, but it goes without much saying that he was distant, quiet, less obvious despite his looks. Something has changed, but no one had yet to care to notice.

Feeling some sympathy, Moon takes a deep breath before speaking. "I'll talk to her, but I can't make any promises, okay?"

"That's all I can hope for," he says. He looks up and their eyes meet. There's something deep within them that makes Moon feel far more connected to him than ever before. She doesn't understand it, but doesn't know whether to question it or not. "I know I'm asking for a lot."

"You two were friends at some point," she tells him. She offers a small smile. "You're asking for just enough if you ask me."

○○○

Moon chose to set up the meeting at her house. They were going to have the place to themselves and it was a place of comfort for Reader. She can just kick Hawk out if things go south and they could watch Disney movies to forget it even happened. In all honesty, Moon was surprised Reader agreed to the little meeting after all the borderline panic attacks she had whenever he got to close. She never wanted to talk about Hawk or karate or anything else remotely related to the guy, so it was a shock.

They're sitting on Moon's couch cuddled up with tea as they waited. Reader tries to calm her nerves as they wait, but it's hard. Her rapid heartbeat make the baby upset, she knows her mama is upset, so she can't settle and squirms around in Reader's belly as much as possible. Moon rubs her belly in an attempt to soothe the little one, but nothing works.

Then the doorbell rings and Moon goes to answer it. Reader sips her tea again and again and again until there's nothing left in the mug, all in the span it takes Moon to open the door, greet Hawk, and lead him into the living room. Reader sets her mug down as they walk in, looking up at Hawk as he stops in the doorway.

He's stunned by her, thinking about how beautiful she is up close, just as he's always thought. He can see and appreciate the little details of her face, as well as the new developments... her widened hips, her fattened tits, her round belly as it stretches out her dress. Even heavily pregnant, she keeps with her style. The pretty cottagecore softness that he always quietly admired.

"Hey," he croaks out. It's as if his voice is scared to be heard, like he might say or do something wrong just by talking to her. She isn't fragile, but he knows he hurt her and that's even worse.

"Hi," she whispers.

Reader feels tears prick her eyes, but is quick to wipe them away with her fingers because she doesn't want to cry. It will only serve to upset the already restless baby. She rubs her belly in a self soothing gesture and takes a deep breath, looking down at the bump that sits on her lap.

Moon guides Hawk to sit in a chair away from Reader and she takes her seat beside Reader, actively putting herself between them. She takes Reader's hand and squeezes it gently, silently assuring her that she doesn't have to hear him out like she originally said she wanted to. But Reader wipes her eyes and lifts her head, giving her girlfriend a smile before turning to Hawk.

"You came here to talk, so talk," she tells him softly. It's to the point, as she doesn't know if she will like what he's about to say or not. She doesn't know if she wants to hear it at all, but she's willing.

Hawk takes a deep breath, never looking away from her. Reader's radiance has always been a beacon of light to him, in his saddest moments and darkest hours. She was always the one to brighten his days and nights with a simple laugh or text. He stupidly threw that away and watched her light dim. Only recently had she begun to get it back.

"I'm so sorry, Reader. I know I've done horrible, awful things to a lot of people, and I regret all of that. But I the thing I regret most is hurting you. It was the stupidest thing I ever did and I shouldn't have done it. I let Cobra Kai get in my head and when I cut you out, I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was protecting you from me, but I did the worst thing I could have ever done, and I'm so sorry for it. I'll spend the rest of my life hating myself for that and trying to make it up to you however I can," he tells her, the words coming out in a tight, strained voice. It feels like he has to push each one through his hard, restricted chest. It only gets worse as he keeps speaking, tears coming to his own eyes. "I never wanted to hurt you. That night we spent together was the best night of my life and I meant everything I told you. I have loved you since I met you, which dumb because we were kids, but I knew then what I know now. I love you and I will love you for the rest of my life. I'm sorry I did this to you."

Reader is crying by the time he finishes. She lets go of Moon's hand to cover her mouth, to keep herself from crying out loud, whilst the other holds her belly. She is racked with silent sobs as she feels the pain of it all once again, reliving the days where he ignored her and the heartache and fear that came with finding out she was pregnant. It hurt like it was the first time all over again, but maybe that's how healing starts.

Moon stays by her side, holding her and rubbing her belly. As she watches Reader, hears her and Hawk crying with heartache and love, she looks at Reader's belly. The pieces all fall into place before her and she understand why it was always so painful to be near Hawk, to talk about him. But even with the realization, she doesn't pull away from her girlfriend.

"You must hate me."

Reader shakes her head and looks at Hawk. "Don't say that. I could never hate you, even if I wanted to. And sometimes I did... I did want hate you and forget about you and damn you, but I never could. I don't. Eli... I..."

She doesn't finish what she says and looks down, rubbing her belly lovingly. She takes a deep breath before continuing. "I just wanted you with me, with us."

Hawk moves closer to Reader, moving the mugs aside so that he could sit on the coffee table in front of Reader. She looked at him and their eyes met for the first time in months. Fresh tears still streamed down their cheeks, but they didn't wipe them away or try to. They let them be.

"I know, and feel so bad. On top of what I did, I missed so much and I can't give you back all that time you were alone and hurt, but I wish I could. I hate that I've missed practically you're whole pregnancy and-"

Hawk is cut off by Reader grabbing his hand and putting it onto her large, round belly. His mouth seems to go dry at the simple act and all the words die on his lips as he feels a flutter of kicks against his palm. He stares at the spot, then looks up at Reader.

"She doesn't care that you missed some things. All she cares about now is that you're here," she tells him. She gently squeezes his hand whilst holding it on her belly. "And that's all I care about now, too. You're here, Eli... please tell me you're here now."

He nods to her assuredly.

"I'm here," he tells her and puts his other hand on her belly, only for it to lay upon Moon's hand. He looks to her, having almost forgotten she was there because she had been so quiet.

She was smiling almost sadly. After all, her girlfriend had practically admitted to still being in love with her childhood friend. She tries to slip her hand from under her, but Reader stops her by putting her hand over both of theirs. She looks at Reader, slightly confused.

Reader shakes her head. "Please don't go. I don't know if I could handle that again."

"But you love Hawk," Moon says softly.

Nodding, Reader gives a little shrug. "But I love you, too. I know that's a lot, and maybe I'm selfish, but I don't want to be without either of you anymore."

Hawk can't help but let out a laugh. He gently switches seats one more time, sitting on Reader's other side. "You're not selfish, love. You have a big heart."

"That's true." Moon looks at Hawk and smiles. "And I would be lying if I said I didn't thin Hawk is really hot."

Reader's eyes dry as she giggles. "So will you two be my boyfriend and girlfriends?"

"Yes," they tell her. Hawk takes Moon's hand into his and holds it gently, then both of them lean in and kiss Reader's cheeks and cuddle her. She smiles between them and puts a hand over theirs, resting against Hawk as their baby girl finally settled. They were all content and happy.

[aleksa-sims]

RL Story

Sorry if I post this a second time, but I think there is something wrong with my blog?

Now first, quickly to the quarrel between Nico & me. Nico wants to go back to Italy, he wants to to move to his former club .They offered him a new contract and more money. They want him back! That would mean that we would see even less of each other, which of course did not suit me. But Nico didn’t feel comfortable in his current team, he just never told me so I wouldn’t worry. Anyway, I had the feeling that Nico was hiding something from me, about his life in Italy. I thought maybe he’s leading some kind of double life? Last summer he was away for almost 2 months, in Italy, because of that contract and soccer stuff, while I was with Daniel. But why was he there all summer? And months later, after he and I got back together, he got messages from that one girl Patricia, who was also with him in Italy. Allready at that time, this whole thing seemed strange to me. And now all of a sudden he has to fly back abroad even though he doesn’t have a match there? It felt like he was leaving me and our son home alone, so he could have fun in Italy with his fucking team mates. Bcs Damien called him and it sounded like they were talking about a party or something. That’s why I was mad at him and also disappointed. Really disappointed! So yea, something had to change or that’s it! For me, it was no longer a relationship with him, we hardly saw each other and now that he was home, he wanted to go away again.

The House and the Medium (CW: suicide mention, loss)

When the young woman who is a medium came to us this afternoon, I was totally surprised about her. I was honestly expecting someone who might have looked older? No, but she was very nice and actually only 29 years old. However, my mom, grandma, Ana and I decided to tell the young woman as little as possible, to see if she really knows her job. 😬But that’s also what she asked us to do. She only wanted to know who lives here in the house and how we’re all relate to each other.

Right at the beginning she had contact with two deceased male relatives of us. One of them was very young. This young man was here for my Mom, she said. I immediately got goose bumps. I knew that my Mom’s brother would try to talk us, if we ever did… well, something like this.

It was so sad. Not only my mom cried, but all of us. The medium knew everything! I was totally speechless. My uncle wanted my mom to know that he didn’t do this to himself on purpose. He didn’t want to die, when he took the pills. 😞😭And he apologized to my mom, for what she went through after his death. He said that he was with her, all the time, when that one bad aunt (an evil woman) was mean to her. He also wanted us to know, that he never wanted to scare us or anything, because of these nightmares I had about him. He’s just trying to protect me, but he never tried to scare me. Everything I think I saw or dreamed about him, it wasn’t him!! This was something else. And he also said that certain events must happen, but I have to stay strong, then everything will be fine.

The medium asked him, if he knew what was going on here in this house? And well, she was of the opinion, that there is a negative energy in this house, which has nothing to do with us, with my family. This negative energy has been brought here by someone else, but not on purpose. Nevertheless, only the person who called it or brought it here, can get rid of this negative energy. She believed that someone wanted to curse someone and only when this is done, there will be peace here. But you can drive out negative energies by performing certain cleansing rituals. In this way, some peace and quiet comes back into the house, but this evil energy can come back at any time. We cannot completely get rid of it, only the person who has brought that negative energy here, can do this.

Oh, and that second person she contacted, was my grandma’s nephew. Sandra’s step-dad. He often comes here to my grandma’s house, to remember his old life. He and my Dad were inseparable as kids and even later. They were always together. Those were his best times, he wanted my grandma to know and that he’s well.

He also meant that my grandparents are safe in the house because they are not afraid. But I should not stay here too long. The medium also noticed two children (spirits) in the house. They run around all the time, she said. It was hard for her to follow them. For the two, this is a like game: they love to play hide- &- seek. And they also love to hide things. The two children come here, to play with Ana, she said. They think that Ana is still a child? I I suspected that, those children were the two murdered orphans. The medium was not quite sure what exactly happend to the orphans? But she didn’t believe/think they were buried here on my grandparents’ property. Because the two of them were here voluntarily, they like to come here, which means they’re not tied to this place or anything. She said they seem happy and serene. And they love Ana. Haha!! One of the siblings, the girl, loves little kids and Babies. That’s why she is so happy to be here at the moment. I just thought ok, I think I know who made Lucas laugh. In any case, the two kids are no danger to us. They just like being here. Especially when other kids are also in the house. That’s why my grandparents never really noticed anything, they only come when we kids are or were here. Ana, my Cuz and I. Well and now Lucas. One of the siblings, the girl, has developed some kind of special connection or relationship with Ana. Ana was a baby at that time and she was also the only one of us kids, who wasn’t afraid when something strange happened here. Maybe Ana knew or felt that, when she was a little girl? Only later, the older she got, the more scared she was here in the house, mostly because of me to be honest. 😬 Yk, my demons.

We knew now that the shadow in the dining room’s evil and it’s mainly after me. As long as I stay away from it, I’m safe. I asked the medium why me? She meant….. “you let it happen.” Such evil beings cannot just pick anyone to attach themselves to a person. Some people attract them without knowing it. It’s almost like an invitation. I have to consciously shield myself from this thing, ignore it, but the best way is to stay away from here. Then I’m safe. That’s what she told me.🤷‍♀️😞I’ll just stay away from this place.

Previous/Next

[shatterthefragments]

FUCK I AAID ID TRY TO TAKE MY BREAK TOMORROW EARLIER SO I COULD ATTEND A zoom COMMITTEE MEETINH 😭

I could use the extra money (especially with at least one more concert… at least one is potentially local and I can just drive there) but I also semi rely on that mid workday tumblr scrolling to get me through it rn. (Guess we’ll see if I can even leave when I want. It was an hour later than I wanted today)

Like the two girls who work sometimes together there. Like. It’s been at least a month or so now I think. Probably 3 months bc of the training benchmark thing that they had to do today instead of working. Straight up if I didn’t have a second person in I would’ve fully just broken down today. But uh. They still fully need to do a full day to shadow a clerk and then a full day where they’re supervised. I am not trained as a clerk. I am serving as their knowledge to do their jobs. I used to feel ambivalent towards my birth name but I hate it right now. The “xx” before I need to leave everything and go help them. Just fills me with dread.

And I’m okay with a bit of a language barrier -they can still communicate. But they shouldn’t necessarily need to ask me everything still. I am positive they can check a deck for a box labeled “waffles” without me needing to hold their hand through it. And they shouldn’t need me to Leave My Task to come help them ESPECIALLY when I’m with someone else (the customer complained about me :P and the store manager let me know after he left. Anyway if I have to do the “add it to the list of things to do for sure” that I’m writing in OT and that he said I should do it before I leave bc fuck even today I ended up staying late)

ALSO fuck customers who only want stuff fresh from this very day or fresh from the freezer and DONT PUT A SPECIAL ORDER IN and just request it whenever they come in. Every time. (Sometimes. The answer is no. I don’t have it cut up and available)

Would it help if I cried in front of you when I tell you that I don’t have any available right now?

Torn between catharsis and FUCK if I’m going to cry (at least mostly) because of work then I should at least be paid for it.

…I haven’t cried at (this) work since the last time I was yelled at by a coworker. (All previous times crying at this workplace were because she yelled at me) (I was almost crying. I almost went into the Cooler to have a cry)

Not to make light of it all but I’m like. One more bad Monday with those two away from a hospital stay. (I can’t bc the hospitals here are famously bad for mental health) (I have an appt and a meeting after next week’s Monday)

But like. Can’t sully any of my crafting and leather knives. (They’re very nice and I want to collect more - prettier too would be nice) but seeing the knives at work and knowing they’re freshly sharpened. It’s just. WILL YOU HEAR ME NOW?! I am screaming. I admitted OUT LOUD that I am struggling on Mondays right now. Can’t have any more wounds to heal. I have to keep my skin unbroken so I can get more tattoos. It’ll be so much harder to stop if I start. Bc the URGENCY in the urge is so fucking strong. It didn’t help when I did last but maybe it would now hit I can’t I can’t I can’t

And I’ll be really sad if what I suspect are a TON of new moles (…or maybe freckles??) are cancerous 1) I hate checking them I can’t remember and I don’t have the organization to photograph and monitor each one 2) I’d have to get the tattoos I booked somewhere else and I’m not sure if I’d go for my upper left arm or my upper front thigh area. (If you’re actually reading this I am taking input on this in case) 3) I don’t want cancer, and it would break my parents’ hearts 4) I don’t want to die (despite the Desperation telling me I do)

Im splintering. Im fragmented. And I KNOW that a large part of it is how tired and exhausted I’ve been. I AM going to bed relatively soon.

I want to get high and forget

Weed’s legal it’s probably fine

(Im still paranoid it’ll cause a psychotic break and I’m already so frequently disconnected dissociated and in such a state of unreality it’s terrifying to me. Because when they taught us about psychosis I related very heavily to a lot of it and I’m scared to admit it. I think I’m okay. It would’ve been a lot to be 15+ years deep so far and nobody noticing nobody being concerned I think I’m okay I just need to get back on the ocean. It will heal me.)

I want to not be in pain

I want to externalize some of it

I want SOME FUCKING HELP. (If I just ask I could. Allegedly. Get a referral and coverage for some therapy) but I’m okay I always am. I’ve survived 100% of my worst days and all that :P but uh. A clerk to help those two ACTUALLY FUCKING LEARN (as if they’d listen) would be Huge.

(But if I were to do edibles with a friend I trust her. I trust she’d know what to do.)

Fuck I don’t even feel like sadsturbating. I mean (I don’t like to use lube so) I already sorta went too long the other day(s) and bled a little so I shouldn’t anyway.

1000% down for someone to knead my ass until it bruises while we snuggle though.

…I just ran my retainer cleaner without my retainer inside of it… and then forgot to put it in. It’s in now. I flossed while it actually got cleaned. Which is good. But fuuuck.

“Diagnosed with a sinus infection” with Covid symptoms… I don’t want her to come back to work tomorrow (I would rather be down a person),,,

[thatgenderfluidmonstrosity]

This is set right after Korra gets her bending taken away (except Air ofc) and Katara did all that she could to fix it, but couldn’t. This is if she still struggled to connect with her spiritual side, and therefore took way longer to get her bending back.

TW: Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt

Korra sat at the edge of the cliff, Naga by her side.

“What can I even do now, Naga? What am I even good for? What good is an Avatar who can’t even bend all the elements!?” She cried out, pacing back and forth.

She felt the tears slip down her face.

“Goddamnit Korra-“ She muttered, planting herself on the ground, sobbing.

All of the thoughts and insults came back to her- yet this time- they were true.

“You’re just a half-baked avatar.”

“You’re the worst Avatar ever!”

“What good is an Avatar that can’t even connect with her spiritual side?”

You can’t save anyone now. Not as the screw-up you are.

Even Avatar Aang was better at this, and he was a child, Korra.

Her thoughts were loud- too loud. She couldn’t get any of it off her mind.

Suddenly, a terrifying thought emerged.

Let a different Avatar be born, then you won’t have to deal with being such a burden.

The thought was harsh- but she believed it was true.

Before she even knew it, she was standing on the cliff edge, overlooking the deep water below her.

If she jumped far enough- maybe she’d land in the water and not the land at the bottom. Maybe the fear of the fall would kill her. Maybe-

She felt the ice crack under her.

Wait-

Seconds later, Naga was pulling her back.

It was as if she was in a trance, and had been snapped out of it.

“Naga I- I don’t even know how I- I wouldn’t…. do that….” Korra comforted her polar bear-dog, who did the same.

With fear still coursing through her veins she made her way back home. Mako greeted her at the door.

“Is everyone still in there, moping about because of my failure?” She asked bluntly.

“Korra- you didn’t fail. It’s not like you planned for Amon to take your bending away-“

“But it still happened Mako! And it’s still my fault! A-and they’re all right- I’m officially the worst Avatar ever…” She muttered.

“Who’s… they?” Mako asked, setting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Everyone! All of Republic City, all benders and non-benders alike! Who’s gonna want a half-baked Avatar who can’t protect them? No one, Mako, that’s who.” Korra was getting even more frustrated, feeling more tears run down her face.

“Korra- none of us think that. The only ones who probably do are the people who have forgotten what all you’ve done for them with your time in Republic City. You are an amazing Avatar. You haven’t failed, and as long as Team Avatar is a thing, we are going to help you get your bending back. No matter what.” Mako said, determination and kindness in his voice.

It almost made Korra feel better.

“…Thanks, Mako…” She whispered, hugging him.

“Of course.” He responded.

The two of them went into her home, and she went to her room, doing her best to avoid eye contact with everyone.

She was successful, and surprisingly, was left alone for a while. She thought it was nice, being left alone for such a long time… but it wasn’t. She knew it was only a matter of time till her dangerous thoughts started crawling back to her.

End this cycle. Do it. You’re wasting everyone’s time with your hope and bullshit. Katara already said your connection was severed, so there’s no use. Hopefully the Avatar after you will be far more powerful and competent. Not that that will be difficult to achieve though…

Almost nightfall now, she couldn’t seem to get them to shut up.

She tried to cover her ears, pet Naga, and drive her attention towards something else- but none of it was working. None of it.

She was on the verge of another crying session when there was a knock at her door.

“Come in…” She croaked.

Her mother and father entered.

“Hey, hun.” Her mother smiled, taking a seat on the end of her bed, “how are you feeling?” She asked softly.

“I’m… as good as I can be right now…” Korra murmured.

There was silence. Korra couldn’t tell if she liked it or not.

“We are gonna help you in any way we can. Any way at all. You may be the Avatar, but you’re our daughter first.” Her mom said.

“Your mother is right, if we have to venture the world to get your powers back, we will. Anything to help you feel better.” Her father added.

“Thank you both… but… I think I just wanna be left alone for a while.” Korra countered.

“Are you sure? With such a large amount of pressure on you, maybe keeping yourself locked away isn’t the answer-“ Her mother tried to get through to her.

“No, I… I know… just for now, I would rather be alone. Just to think.” Korra tried to make it sound… less sad.

“Very well… We’re here if you need anything.” Her dad said.

With that, her parents left her alone. Well, she wasn’t truly alone; she had Naga (who was currently passed out) but still.

She wallowed in her pity till she fell asleep.

The next days were hazy, confusing and exhausting. It was like she was slowly moving through time, but everything was passing by all too quickly. Like she was the only one who couldn’t catch up.

Soon enough, it had been 2 weeks since she had lost her powers.

2 weeks since she became the weakest Avatar. A failure. A wreck.

She hadn’t spoken to many people, nor left her room. Her solitude was only worsening her condition and yet it felt so comfortable at the same time.

Her parents tried to get through to her, but she brushed them off. She knew they only wanted to help, but it was difficult. She didn’t want to have to ask for help, or even admit that she needed it. She couldn’t do that.

So there she was, training her Air-bending powers as well as she could.

That was when Tenzin interrupted.

“I’m assuming my parents sent you to check up on me? Well I’m fine. I don’t need anything right now.” Korra said, half-focusing on him.

“No, actually. They didn’t. I came here on my own. I…” Tenzin got closer, but Korra didn’t stop training.

“-You’re worried about me? Well I’m fine.” She muttered angrily, her air-punches getting fiercer.

“I know you aren’t Korra. How could you be? I just want you to talk to me, or your parents or friends. You experienced something traumatic, and have been bottling it all up-“

“I’m not bottling anything up!” Korra snapped.

Tenzin only raised his eyebrow.

“Ugh- whatever! I was the one that failed, Tenzin. I was the one that let everyone down. I was the one that was stupid enough to get her bending taken away!” She yelled doing one last move that completely destroyed one of the ice sculpture enemies.

“Korra-“ He tried to get through to her, attempting to give her a comforting shoulder-clasp.

“Don’t “Korra” me!” Korra pulled away, “I mean- what kind of Avatar am I?! A screw up?! I- I mean, your dad was taking down the freaking tyrant Firelord Ozai by the time he was 13! I’m a disgrace to all Avatars ever!” She ran out of the training grounds.

Sure, that might’ve been super childish, but with so much going through her brain- could she really be blamed?

She found herself by the cliff edge again. She didn’t even realize she had run so far.

As she took a deep breath, she let it out by screaming into the frozen tundra.

Just give in already, Korra. Do it. In a couple years, it won’t matter. A new Avatar will be here, and be far better than you. You’ll either be forgotten, ignored as just a bad mark in Avatar history or remembered for being the worst Avatar ever. No matter what, it just won’t matter anymore.

“I just wish I hadn’t wasted everyone’s time… just to be reduced to nothing…” She thought.

She was truly alone now. And as the sea called to her, so did death.

“Maybe the fall will be calming… soothing even. Like an embrace from the wind.” She thought.

And as she took the last step, the ground cracked… and she fell.

It was scary. More terrifying than she originally thought it would be. But… she supposed dying as a failure was better than living as one.

The wind wasn’t soothing… nor was it comforting. It hurt. It was rash and harsh.

It was also happening far slower than she thought it would- or maybe her thoughts were on hyper-drive, going faster to match the adrenaline in her.

As she braced for impact, her body was propelled upwards- and as her body shot into the sky, she felt someone wrap their arms around her.

She blinked only once before feeling her body getting set softly on the ground.

“Korra! Korra!? Are you alright! Can you hear me?” She heard a panicked voice.

She could barely respond before sitting up and vomiting on the ice and snow beside her.

“Okay- alright- you can still breathe, that’s good.” The voice spoke.

Korra had to register everything before even considering speaking.

“I’m… not dead.” She whispered, looking at her body, “I didn’t die.”

She looked up and over, only to see Tenzin’s startled and worried expression.

“I…” She tried to choke back a sob, but couldn’t.

She held onto Tenzin's shirt, pulling him close and sobbing into his chest, grabbing onto him as if he’d disappear when she let go.

“I- I was so scared- and I don’t even- I don’t know why I did it- I just- I just can’t live like this, Tenzin. I can’t- I can’t have people look at me, knowing how much of a disappointment I am to the Avatar line- I thought that maybe if I- If I just- died then you could all have a better Avatar- someone worth training, and celebrating… someone worth this title-“ She rambled, coughing from lack of air afterwards.

“Just let it out…” Tenzin murmured, rubbing her back softly.

“I thought that if I got good at this stuff, you could look at me with pride- the way your dad was seen- maybe people would like me the way they liked him- maybe if I just listened to all of your lessons, I wouldn’t be in this situation… and I wouldn’t feel so fucking pathetic…”

She finished, out of breath and tired.

“You aren’t a screw up, and you aren’t a disgrace. You aren’t a disappointment or terrible or whatever else your mind is telling you. You’re a teenager, with a heavy burden to bear and are doing everything you can to live up to a legacy. You faced a threat that no Avatar has had to face before. You are incredible, Korra. And I know for certain that my father would believe the same.” Tenzin's voice was soothing… calming.

It was warm and caring. Just as he was.

“Thank you… thank you, Tenzin.” She whispered, her voice was hoarse from crying.

“Of course. You- oh…. It looks like we have company…” Tenzin says, sounding surprised.

“Huh?” She asked, turning around.

“Well… Look who we have here.”

“Are you-!?”

“Avatar Aang, it is a pleasure to meet you, dear Korra. Or… Avatar Korra. Yes, that’s more fitting.”

He smiled. Korra admired him.

“Not much of an Avatar anymore… I don’t know if they deliver news to the spirit world but uh-“

“Oh, I know. We all do.”

Behind Aang, tons of the other Avatars appeared.

“But how-?? I’ve never had any strong connection to my spiritual side!” Korra said.

“The Avatar State is induced in states of emotional or mental distress… it seems like you conjured me up that way.”

He smiled… it was a gentle one, just like Tenzin.

“So… what… What now?” Korra asked.

“This is the part where I help you get your bending back.”

He smiled again, holding his hand to her forehead, just as Amon had done. She couldn’t lie, she was scared.

Her eyes started to glow, then went fully white. Her body lifted into the air, water, earth, fire and air all surrounding her.

After a moment of that, her body slowly landed back onto the ground, Tenzin approaching her carefully.

“Korra…?” He asked.

Her eyes were white, then she blinked, and they were back to normal.

“Did I-“ Her eyes went wide.

“Yes, yes, I do believe you did.” Tenzin smiled and laughed, helping her up.

“Let’s go baby!” She called, starting to bend the elements once more.

All of them this time.

“I’m not a failure… I never was. I was just… hurt.” She told herself.

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

If you liked this, I’d appreciate it if you could give it some love on Ao3!

[lovebillyhargrove]

A follow-up to this (Life's a quest, innit)

***

Steve's running. He's running as fast as he can, to the stairs, down the stairs, he can't feel his legs, he's one bolt of electricity, he has to get to him. He needs to tell Billy that he knows, he knows it was him, he figured it out. It's too late, how could Steve be so oblivious, it's too fucking late now because Billy is laying there in a pool of black blood with a gaping hole in his chest, and Steve just needs him to hold on a second longer, he has to let him know, it hasn't been just a game, it's been real, Steve's been seeing Billy in his dreams for months now, please oh god, please

"Steeve.. Steve!"

"Steve!!"

Steve's shaking, he's shaking all over because this can't be happening, he needs to get to Billy, he needs to tell him

"Steve! Wake up!"

Steve opens his eyes to the dim light of the hospital room. A woman in white is hovering over him

"Are you okay? Steve, are you with me?"

"Yes.. Yes, Mrs. .. Miller. I'm .. "

He's sitting up in the armchair. He must've fallen asleep. Again.

"I must've .. it was a bad dream."

"It's 9.30 already. Are you getting home or should I fetch a blanket for you?"

"Oh, sorry. It's so late. I uh .. I'll probably get going. Have an early shift tomorrow."

Steve's sliding his hand up and down his face. He's fully back to Earth now.

"Have a nice night, Mrs. Miller. I'll come by tomorrow."

"Good night, Steve! Drive safely! Like I always say it, this boy is lucky to have you as a friend."

Steve smiled weakly, and looked at the hospital bed. Billy has been in a coma for almost a month now.

"Bye, Billy. See you tomorrow."

***

Steve was getting used to the fact that sometimes miracles happened.

Billy was alive. After the injuries that no living person was able to survive, he was still breathing. With the help of the machine, and in a coma, but he was alive.

Doctors didn't say much about the perspectives. Didn't want to give false hope, and Steve understood that. Max visited Billy almost daily. El did, too, before Mrs. Byers decided to uproot the whole family. Billy's father came once or twice, but Steve didn't see him. Each of the kids stopped by once in a while, usually accompanying Max.

Steve was here every day for two weeks straight. Before work, or after, depending on his shift, but he made it a rule of visiting Billy every day. The first couple of weeks doctors didn't allow visitation, but as soon as they gave a green light, Steve and Max were the first ones to enter Billy's room.

Steve remembers that he cried when he came back home after the first visit. He cried real tears, cried himself to sleep.

The next day he picked up "Romeo and Juliet" that he had borrowed from the Hawkins Library a couple of weeks ago. Sat in the armchair near Billy's bed and read it to him.

"These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die; like fire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume: the sweetest honey

Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, And in the taste confounds the appetite: Therefore love moderately: long love doth so."

***

Steve couldn't say that he liked reading much, on the contrary, but the times when he was reading those lines to Billy felt special.

Steve also talked to Billy. Every day.

"Hey .. just so you know, I loved the quest so much. I still have your pendant, so you better wake up if you want to get it back."

"Hey, Hargrove. I really thought it was a girl. Because .. because it's Hawkins and nothing extraordinary ever happens here. Everyone and everything has to be normal. Well, I don't really care."

"I didn't allow myself to think it could be you. And .. I really didn't think it was possible. But here it is .. a miracle. It was you. And I didn't know. I thought .. I thought it would all disappear, the things that I felt for you. But they didn't .. disappear. They are all still here, you just need to wake up, Billy. I have so much to tell you."

"But soft! what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!— Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she."

"Billy, you're probably gonna laugh at me, but hey, you .. you've always been like the sun. So hot, so radiant. You were burning me, Billy, and you didn't even know that. You are the sun, and you need to .. you need to rise again. Just like the sun rises every day. It's the laws of nature, Hargrove. You don't have a choice."

***

One day Steve went to Main Street to the florist's and ordered the same kind of bouquet that he had picked up a month ago. Lots of roses, red like blood, wrapped in gray paper. The lady who took the order recognised him and he asked her how her mother was doing. They chatted a bit, and the next day Steve brought a bunch of flaming roses to Billy's room, put it on the bedside table.

"I don't know which flowers you like, Hargrove, and if you like them at all. Just want to let you know .. that I loved the ones that you had given me, remember? .. Is it okay for us to give each other flowers? .. I don't care if it isn't according to some kind of normal rules. To hell with rules."

"Let's play a game, shall we? I'll name a flower, and you'll move a finger if it's your favourite one, okay?"

It's either Billy didn't like any flowers, or he was too deep in a coma. Unreachable. Because he didn't move a finger even once.

***

One day Steve took the picture of the ocean to the hospital with him - the one that had been mailed to his house, the 11th note.

"This photo is really beautiful, man. Did you take it yourself? I guess that's California, right? Where you're from? This is actually one of my dreams, like I've always wanted to see the ocean. We can drive to the East coast, or West coast, wherever you want. You just need to open your eyes, Billy. So many good things ahead of you. I promise."

***

One day Steve finds Max sniffling, eyes red, looking out of the window in Billy's room.

"What if he never wakes up, Steve? What then??"

"Max, I .. I don't know. I guess we need to believe. To hope. Your brother is strong. He's so strong. He'll pull through."

He has to. He has to do it, for me. Am I being selfish? Fuck this, I am. I am selfish. I want him for me. I want to find out how it would feel to do all those things with him I've been wanting to do. He has to wake up.

Steve cries again, when he lays in bed sleepless that night.

He needs one more miracle.

***

"Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,

Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night.."

***

Just .. wake up, Billy. Please.

***

Fin

[hamsamwich23]

Unreality Mortimer cries over a goddamn milkshake

One shot for @silent-bull you fuckin f o o l/j/affectionate/p

This thing is fucking 3008 words I am sobbing

Please consider reblogging if you like!!!

Rain poured down from the dark and cloudy sky above at a fast and seemingly endless rate. It could be heard faintly as it pounded against the roof of the lonely white car, as it continued on it’s way.

Mortimer’s head was leaned up against the car door  as he stared outside the window, watching the rain fall through the glass that was already being pelted with droplets of water. Nothing particularly interesting was outside, but  he enjoyed listening to the comforting sounds of the rain outside, watching the rain itself made him feel…calm. Relaxed. 

He didn’t have to worry about keeping his eyes on the road either. He wasn’t the one driving today..

His father was. 

Well. His new father anyways. Adoptive father was a better way to put it since, unfortunately by default, Owen would always be his “biological” parent…

However

It sure as hell did not mean he would ever think of him as a father. 

He never acted like a true parent anyways… In fact..Whisper, his father now, had been more caring towards himself and the other puppets in the span of a few months than Owen had been in the full seven years they were trapped with him. Right up until Owen…

“We’re almost there” The taller cat man spoke, breaking the silence, and pulling Mortimer away from his thoughts. 

Until he had….

Until Mortimer…

He couldn’t take it anymore..

“Ah, that’s good. How much longer?”

“Just a few more minutes. I will let you know when we arrive”

Mortimer nodded, returning his attention to the window. 

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the window. Listening to the sound of the rain outside..

This whole thing felt a little…strange to him. Maybe it was because he had never really done anything like this. Owen never would have wanted to do anything like this with him..

He wasn’t complaining now though. This was much nicer. With Whisper around, he had much less to worry about. He felt safe around him..

—--

The two arrived at their destination about ten minutes later. The rain had not stopped, but it had at least lightened up. 

They got out of the car and closed the doors behind them. Whisper opened up an umbrella he had brought along while Mortimer simply pulled his sweater hood over his head and ears. It felt a little out of sorts for him to be wearing a casual hoodie instead of his usual fancy jacket that he always wore, however it wouldn’t protect him from the cold rain. And he didn’t want it to get wet anyways. It was a necessary, and quite comfortable alternative.

From the looks of it, Whisper had taken him to an out of place diner. The outside of the building looked a bit small, and had an older timed theme to it. When they entered it, it wasn’t big, but it wasn’t too crowded either. It had a cozy feeling too it. But it also looked quite lonely, as they were the only ones here. Aside from the employees. 

But that worked out for him perfectly. He didn’t feel comfortable with the idea of eating or even hanging out in a crowded area, especially since people could potentially recognize him…

Just his father and himself being here was much better. 

The two sat themselves in a booth closer to the back of the diner. Whisper ordered the food before seating himself across from Mortimer. The two were now simply waiting for their food to be brought out. 

“This place is…nice” Mortimer said softly, as he looked around from where he was sitting. 

“It is. It’s very quiet too. Nice and peaceful” Whisper commented, as he opened up a book and began to read. It was a book about plants, which wasn’t surprising in the least. He must have brought it along to read during the waiting process. 

“I noticed that. It is very nice..but why exactly is it so quiet?”  

Whisper simply shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose it's because this place just became less popular overtime”  “Really? …I wonder why..Did something bad happen?”

“Not to my knowledge. These sorts of things just happen. As time goes on, people begin to discover new things to do, more places to go..and older places like this get left behind. People still come here from time to time, but I suppose most prefer the modern day dinery.” 

“I see…its a shame a place like this has been left behind.” 

“It is very unfortunate…I worry this place may be closing up soon. But right now there is not much we can do except enjoy it while we can. I know you’ve never been to anywhere like this, I figured it would be a nice experience.” 

“Hmm…” 

Mortimer leaned himself back into the booth and looked outside the window, watching the rain outside. He wondered how the ones running this place managed to keep it so nice and clean..It appeared old, but it was still in good condition…

Unlike the warehouse, which was getting closer and closer to falling apart. 

He doubted it would be too long before everything came crashing down on him

Once again, everything would fall..and he couldn’t stop it… 

They would have to be prepared to leave at any time..they all knew this..

None of them liked to think of what would happen after this point..Whisper already promised he would help them..but even so…

He..

He shouldn’t be worrying about this right now

He was supposed to be enjoying the day out with his father. Not panicking about something that hasn’t happened yet. 

They knew what to do, they would be fine when that day had to come..right? 

“Mortimer, get ready. They’re bringing our food here now”

Mortimers ears twitched as he quickly looked back at Whisper. “Ah, yes i’m sorry” 

“Don’t be sorry. I’m just letting you know”

“Thank you..”

Mortimer looked over as a waitress with a mask over her face came over with two trays. 

Mortimer had allowed Whisper to order for him since he had little experience with public diners or restaurants…or food, for that matter.

The waitress set down the trays in front of them. Whisper had ordered himself a sandwich and a cup of hot coffee. Mortimer was given a small pizza, all for himself..and some sort of thick liquid in a tall, fancy cup… 

He carefully picked up the mystery drink, bringing it to his face and sniffing at it. It was cold, and it smelled..nice actually. Rather sweet. It smelled like cream and chocolate. 

“Father…whats this?” 

“Hm? Thats a milkshake. It’s ice cream blended into a drink .I noticed you seemed to favor sweet things, so I thought you would enjoy it.”

“Ah..I see..I’ve never had something like..this before.”

“Hmm. Do you still want it then? If you don’t want it I can always get you something else to drink”

“Nonono! Its fine” Mortimer exclaimed, shaking his head. “I just didn’t recognize it is all! I will drink it..”

Whisper nodded, setting his book down and eating his own food.

Mortimer held the ice cold drink in his hands, inspecting it again as if it was some sort of ancient artifact before he placed the provided straw into the cup. Sighing softly, he gently bit down on the top of the draw, taking a sip of the cold, creamy liquid…

Immediately, his eyes lit up, growing wide, as he drank more and more from the cup. 

This..

This was…

Amazing.

The smooth, creamy texture..the rich taste of chocolate ice cream…the lovely additions of the whipped cream and candies…it was so…

Perfect.

He closed his eyes and leaned more into the booth cushions… this drink made him feel cold..but it was just..amazing… 

So..this is what he had been missing out on…

“Mortimer..are you alright?”

Mortimer set his half-drunk milkshake down and looked up at Whisper. “Ah..yes, yes i’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“Mortimer..you’re crying”

He paused, slowly raising his hand up to his face…hot tears were falling from his eyes…Whisper was right..he WAS crying..but why? There was no way this thing was so good it could make him cry like this, right?

Then again

“Oh..fuck, yes I suppose I am” Mortimer chuckled softly, wiping the tears away from his face with his hoodie sleeve. “I’m sorry about that” 

“is it..that good?” 

“Yes..well, yeah. That and…well.. My father would never allow me to do anything like this…it’s just…Nice, to finally enjoy at least..something, you know?”

Whisper stared at him, silently, before nodding and returning to his food. “I understand how you feel... Enjoy your meal, Mortimer”

Mortimer nodded. He would most definitely enjoy it.

__________________________

Even with that one moment where he had been unknowingly crying, their time at the diner was going very well. Mortimer and Whisper spent their time talking about whatever they felt like speaking about as they ate their food. Mortimer found himself talking much more than he normally did on a daily basis….opening up more, little by little as they talked.. 

Normally he disliked himself speaking, but this was..nice. Very nice…

He felt safe here with Whisper. Safe to speak, safe to eat around him..it was like he could genuinely tell him anything..It was such an overwhelmingly comforting feeling.. One he never felt around Owen once.

He was..happy. 

About an hour later they were ready to get going. Whisper paid for their order while Mortimer took care of cleaning up the mess they left, throwing out the garbage on the table. He was aware that it was technically the workers' jobs to deal with it, however he felt it would make their jobs easier if they had less to clean up. “Is this everything?”

“For the most part, yes.” Whisper looked over the table to make sure they hadn’t missed anything, before picking up Mortimer’s half drank milkshake. “Mortimer, do you want the rest of this?” 

“Ah yes, of course I do. I was saving it so I could take it with me on the ride back” he hummed, carefully taking the cup from Whisper. 

“It’s three dollars Mortimer. I don’t mind”

“Hmmm, I understand. But it’s probably melted down by now. I could buy you another full one if you would like.”

“Oh no, it’s alright. I don’t want to make you spend more than you already have-”

Mortimer just shook his head. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine with what I have here” he said, as he began making his way to the front counter to grab a disposable cup for the remainder of his half melted drink. 

Whisper shrugged lightly. “If you say so. But if you change your mind i can get you one before we go”

“I feel…bad though. Especially since I still have some left right here. I’ll decline. But perhaps another ti-”

Mortimer was suddenly cut off by a scream. 

His own scream

He felt something slam down on the end of his tail. He panicked, and struggled to pull his tail free from whatever was putting pressure on it, but when he did he was knocked off balance. He slipped and let out a loud yell as he harshly fell to the ground. His entire left side taking the hit caused by the impact.

Mortimer trembled as he sat himself up until he was kneeling on the floor. Holding his arm and wincing at his own touch. “Jeez…”

“Mortimer! Are you alright??” Whisper’s voice, which was usually monotone, was louder than it normally was as he rushed on over to his adopted son. He got down on the floor beside Mortimer and checked his arm. 

Mortimer flinched. “Yeah, i’m fine, just..everything is sore, and I think I dropped..”

He paused as that tiny realization set in

The drink in his hand was no longer there. It was gone….He definitely dropped it during the fall… which, would mean it was..

He looked around, almost frantically, and sure enough there it was. The decorative cup rolling slightly around on the floor, and the sticky, melted remains of the milkshake splattered all over the marble floor and leaking from the cup. Right in front of him. 

He didn’t realize it right away, but he was crying again. But it wasn’t from shock or joy as it had been earlier. 

He was crying because…

Well

He didn’t know why he was crying this time. 

Was it a late reaction to the pain? To the throbbing he felt in his entire arm and side? It wasn’t broken but the pain was more than capable of bringing someone to tears.

Or was it because of the drink that was now all over the floor? Both leaving him with nothing left of his new favored beverage for the ride home…And the fact that he had caused a mess. Even if it wasn’t intentional, he still ruined things. He ruined the floor and he probably nearly broke the cup. The floor was going to be sticky and gross now due to his mistake…

Maybe…Maybe it was both the pain and the incident. 

It was making him feel…overwhelmed.

He WAS overwhelmed. His body was shaking and there were all sorts of panicked thoughts racing in his mind.. 

“Mortimer…are you sure you’re alright?”

_________________________  

Mortimer stared down at his trembling hands and shook his head.

“No…I don’t think I am”

Mortimer yawned and rubbed his eyes as he walked out of the front doors of the diner. He had stayed behind to clean up the mess he had made, while Whisper explained the situation to the staff before he went out to go wait inside the car. 

Mortimer felt it was the least he could do. 

He didn’t mean for it to happen, it had been an accident. A short series of unfortunate events. No one could have predicted that at that very moment he would end up tripping on his own tail. The employees weren’t even mad about it, they understood and were happy he cleaned it up for them. 

But he still felt…guilty. Ashamed, even.Especially for crying over a spilt drink. Although it could have definitely been from being overwhelmed, and falling on the floor….And the fact that he lost his newfound favorite drink to a dumb mistake…

It had been the best thing he ever tasted….aside from iced tea. 

He sighed as he made his way back to where Whisper’s car was parked. He could see him reading the book he brought along through the car windows. He opened the door on the opposite side and climbed into the passenger seat. “I’m here”

Whisper looked up and set his book down beside him. “Ah, there you are. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, I cleaned up the mess for them so they wouldn’t have to..”

Whisper placed a gentle hand on the top of Mortimers head, patting gently. “That was kind of you Mortimer. Good job.”

Mortimer nodded and glanced down at the floor. “It would be rude not to help though, after all I caused the mess. They shouldn’t have to deal with it.”

“Do you still feel bad about what happened?”

Mortimer looked away from him.“....yes, I do”

Whisper just kept patting him on the head, trying to comfort him. “Don’t beat yourself up about this, Mortimer. Please. It was an accident. Things do happen. You didn’t do it to be malicious, and you even helped fix things afterwards.”

“I know, I know. I just..I can’t stop myself from feeling like I fucked up. I know it wasn’t….fully my fault, but it feels like it was”

“Mortimer..I understand how you feel, but I promise, you did not fuck anything up. Its alright now.” 

Whisper then placed something into Mortimers hands. It was..cold. 

He looked back at his hands. He was now holding a styrofoam carry out cup with a straw already inserted into the hole on the top of the lid. And it was absolutely cold to the touch.

“I replaced your drink for you while you were cleaning up inside of the diner. It’s the same flavor and has everything included, just like the one I ordered you earlier.”

Mortimer stared down at the cup in his hands and smiled softly. “Thank you, Father” “It’s not a problem. Like I said, I don’t mind at all.” “I know, but…still. I appreciate all of this…I really do”

“I’m happy to be here for you. All of you. It’s an honor, and I hope things can remain like this”

“So do I..”

Whisper hummed as he started up the car. “We can come back here again another time. But for now, we should get home. It’s been a long day, and with the way those clouds ahead of us look, I think that heavy rain will return shortly here. It’s best to get home before it starts.”

“Right, of course. Let’s get back home”

Whisper nodded and began driving. Pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road that lead them to this nice place. 

Whisper had been right about the rain coming back. It wasn’t pouring down as much as it had been before, but it was certainly starting up fast. It wouldn’t be long before it became heavier and louder. 

But it didn’t bother either of them. They left just in time, and would be getting home shortly, ensuring their safety. They would be able to relax soon enough.

Mortimer stared outside of the window, watching the raindrops slide down the glass as he drank the fresh, cold milkshake Whisper had gotten for him… 

Despite the incident that happened earlier, that left him feeling awful and ashamed of himself for making a mistake that he saw as foolish, and despite the remaining soreness in his left arm and shoulder from falling onto the ground earlier…

Today was good.