#big tress in backyard

[moniquemartinez]

Traditional Landscape Here is an illustration of a sizable, traditional, gravel garden path in the fall.

[millionponds]

Landscape Pathway St Louis Inspiration for a sizable traditional gravel garden path in the springtime backyard.

[professor-profanity]

Same here. Living in GA, I have always loved Kudzu, always been obsessed with it. My childhood home's backyard, past our fence, was a big old woody feild of nothing but tress and Kudzu! I had recurring dreams on just sleeping on soft Kudzu clouds...even though I know Kudzu is NOT soft at all lol. I love the way it envelopes and takes the shape of whatever it grows around. Just a dreamy invasive ass plant.

Kudzu has always fascinated me. I've always wished I could walk on it or go under its canopy but I'm sure If I tried to explore it enough I would be trapped in its vastness and succumb to its vines.

(via Appalachian Aesthetics)

[wingekprincessproffssor]

we couldn't further our searching because the woods at our backyard is (getting) thicker day by day, and this was all because of that one old uncle who chopped down all the big, tall tress and he is yet to find a solution nor clean up the messes he did 😑

and now my cat probably can no longer return to home because of the wild dogs, and talking about dogs, I can't afford to think of any worse situation than this 😞

That uncle didn't clean up his mess, it was rude and because of him you can't look at your backyard 😡 also maybe you should look around outside, I suggest looking at the bushes, trees, etc., and take a treat with you so you can make your cat come to you when you find her and maybe look around the areas that have more of trees, bushes cus if your cat has can't return home. cus of the dogs maybe she hides in one of them, I hope you find your cat and I hope she is safe too, maybe your cat will return home on its own who knows

[outerbankies]

new light: better man — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

summary: rafe meets the first boy that ever broke your heart.

wc: 28k+

warnings: swearing, drinking, alcohol, misogyny, familial problems, a guy being kinda scary for a sec, minor violence, lazy massachusetts geography and complete disregard for winter weather in new england and an under-researched portrayal of the publishing industry

a/n: this is so long. so so so long. i almost feel bad about posting it all at once but here she is! i’ve been working on this for a solid month and i had a lot of fun taking on something this big for new light. you might catch up on this and this if you haven’t been keeping up with the blurbs or just want a refresher :) enjoyyy

“What’re you reading?”

Rafe’s soft questioning is complemented by a light hand on the top of your head, his ringed fingers sifting through the tresses of your hair gently as he comes to stand behind the arm of the couch you’ve rested your head upon in the early afternoon.

“Article about maritime laws. Really interesting—I should probably email it to Agnes,” you murmur, your finger holding the spot in the magazine splayed across your lap as you crane your neck to look back up at him.

Rafe smiles at you, still stroking your hair. “How are they?”

“Good,” you answer, nodding and turning back to the page you were on. You finger the flimsy page between your pointer and middle fingertips, trying to resume your reading momentarily before tilting your head back again. A smile stretches across your face that matches Rafe’s own as you think about your old job. “Beckham looks so tall from the pictures she’s sent. Barron’s gonna hate it, but I think Becks will outgrow him when they’re a bit older.”

“Y’know, I see that. Totally,” Rafe agrees. A kiss is pressed into your hair, and then Rafe is moving past you to sit down near where your feet lay, a book soon perched in his lap. One you passed off to him—you devoured it in less than a week, and Rafe had asked to read it, too. He was about half as fast as you, still stuck in the first few chapters, but committed nonetheless.

You read a bit further into your chosen article, taking breaks to sip your coffee that was freshly refilled by your boyfriend before he sat down. You enjoy the peace and quiet, and that sunlight that streams in through the glass door to your backyard, hitting the strip of skin on your shoulders that’s exposed by your low-cut sweater. Your socked toes dig into Rafe’s thigh but you both just keep on reading, until his left hand falls from his book to encircle your ankle instead, giving it a squeeze to signal that he wants your attention.

“Y/n Y/l/n, did you know that we’ve never been away together?” he suddenly asks.

You flip your magazine over immediately, bookmarked on your place. “Rafe, that’s ridiculous.”

He just keeps reading, even flipping a page. His right leg bounces up and down. “Think about it.”

“You used to come to California all the time. I visited you in Georgia, too,” you say, your foot pushing into his thigh.

“Okay, but like. Away,” he elaborates, book still open in his lap.

“Hold on, stop that,” you demand. “I hate that you can read and carry a conversation at the same time.”

“I can’t—I’m gonna have to re-read these pages later,” he admits, the book snapping shut in his hand. He sets it down on the arm of the couch, turning to face you slightly. “Keep going.”

“We did St. Barts for New Years’ last year.”

“With the guys and Blythe,” Rafe adds.

“Okay, well—we went to Aspen a little bit after that, remember?”

“Oh, right. How could I forget sharing a bed with you and Davis?” he jokes.

You level Rafe with a look at the mention of that. “That’s not fair, he was going through a really rough time after that guy—”

“Baby, I’m not—you know I hated that guy, too. Wren and I kicked him out of your birthday party, remember?” Rafe asks. “Just saying, Aspen wasn’t the most… romantic trip we’ve ever been on.”

“Well, what about Vegas? I know you don’t remember much of that one, but—”

“We went with my friends that time,” he explains. “But this is what I’m getting at—we’ve never gone somewhere where one of us didn’t live, just the two of us. Ever.”

That gives you pause, and you fully close your magazine now, the glossy cover page slapping loudly onto the coffee table in front of the couch where you toss it. You cross your arms over your chest, looking at Rafe in confusion. “That can’t be right. We’ve been dating for a year now.”

“Year and a half,” he corrects, scoffing.

“Oh, are we skipping over the break-up this time?”

Rafe flicks your leg. “I know you love to tease me about that, but you’re the one who prefers our original anniversary, anyway.”

“Well yeah, because that makes our relationship a Cancer,” you explain.

“Plus,” Rafe agrees, past the point of arguing with you about the merits of astrology. “Having an anniversary around Thanksgiving is too much for our social calendar.”

“That’s not even—hush, you,” you say, reaching over to push his shoulder while he grins. “I just… if we keep the original, then our anniversary is right around wedding season. Was that your plan all along?”

Rafe came into the living room with a purpose this morning, you know that much. But he’s derailed by you and your subtle insinuation, suddenly leaning over and pressing his red cheeks into your face, getting kisses in wherever he can. “Actually, the plan all along would’ve been asking you out years and years ago.”

You ignore the beat of your heart to match his tone and mess with him right back. “Imagine us dating in high school, just for a second.”

“Uh. I have, and I did, for years,” Rafe reminds you. He sifts a heavy hand back through your hair again, smoothing the same strands he’d mussed up just seconds ago.

“Okay, so, a year and a half,” you finally agree, giving him a peck before leaning back into your end of the couch. “And we’ve never gone anywhere together, just the two of us?”

“Nope.”

“Well… wait. We have to go somewhere, then,” you decide.

“Why do you think I brought this up, Y/l/n?” Rafe smiles, talking out of the side of his mouth as he pretends to turn back to his book again. His head hangs to the side momentarily, catching your waiting, adoring gaze. “What are you doing this weekend?”

“Absolutely nothing. I’m all yours.”

“How do you feel about Massachusetts?”

You shouldn’t feel your body’s frame lock-up in anxiousness—Rafe knows about your family up there, of course he does—but you do anyway. You reach for your coffee cup on the table, taking a long sip. “That would be… fun.”

“Yeah? I was thinking we could go through Boston, then maybe drive out a ways—I was looking at some Airbnbs already, I can show you some right now,” Rafe says, hopping up to retrieve his laptop, his book finally forgotten for good. You stare into your coffee as you hear him poking around in the bedroom, your mind racing with the prospect of being that close to family you haven’t seen in years—family Rafe has never met in all of the time you’ve dated.

Your dad’s side of the family wasn’t one to come visit very often, and nobody in your immediate family was rather inclined to make the trip up. Except for your mom, whose passion to impress her in-laws had never faded, not since you could begin to notice it. Your mom’s family, on the other hand, lived in North Carolina, so you saw them all the time, and they were way more present in your life. Her parents came to your college graduation, they hosted dinners at their house almost every other week, and most importantly—they loved Rafe.

But your dad’s parents—your dad’s dad—that was an entirely different animal. And visiting their home state almost felt like entering the lion’s den, bringing your boyfriend along as unsuspecting prey.

“Topper actually had some recommendations, I guess he and Blythe kinda went all over when they were in school up there,” Rafe announces, coming back into the room with his laptop open. He’s typing rapidly with one hand, eyes reflecting the LED screen as he scans over the pages. Rafe looks really excited, and if you know him like you do, he’s probably had a Google Doc going for at least a few weeks.

You quickly shake your head to snap yourself out of those thoughts and set the coffee back down, making room for Rafe to come sit in between your legs.

Your boyfriend that you love worked very hard to do something nice for the two of you. And that’s the only way you had to look at it, for now. You can deal with the trickier emotions about your extended family and a certain family friend from your past later.

“Show them to me.”

—

Although you felt confident you were playing it cool about the entire thing, you forgot to clue Rafe in on one crucial detail: under no circumstances could your mother find out that the two of you were going to be anywhere within a one-hundred-mile radius of her in-laws.

To be fair, Rafe hadn’t really given you the opportunity to mention it. He knew your relationship with that side of the family was slightly strained—not unlike how he dealt with Ward—and nothing like that of your mom’s side. So you weren’t surprised that he didn’t ask if you wanted to visit them while you were up that way. Therefore, you never had the chance to tell him that he should keep a tight lid on it around your mother—who was the only person in your family that liked going up there.

And Rafe, the perfect boyfriend that he is, gave her the perfect opportunity to do just that when the two of you joined your parents for brunch the following morning.

“You didn’t tell me you were going to Massachusetts,” your mother accused from behind the kitchen island. You froze in the doorway, eyes shifting to where Rafe sat at the breakfast bar sipping his coffee with a small smile on his face. It quickly dropped once he saw your own expression—and your father’s from where he’d been following behind you from the garage, where he’d been asking your opinion on a Christmas gift for Rafe.

“Massachusetts?” your dad asks slowly.

“Yes, Will. Rafe says they’re going up this weekend. They’re staying only an hour from your parents,” your mom says, a glint forming in her eye.

“Oh no,” you mutter under your breath, head dropping back as you practically stalk over to take a seat beside Rafe at the counter.

“What?” he asks you, looking worried. But your mother steams ahead.

“Y/n Y/m/n, I can’t believe you didn’t tell us. You know Grandpa Ellis and Grandma DeeDee would love to see you. See all of us,” she amends, looking at your father again.

“Mom, we just planned it—like yesterday, and—”

“And I bet you weren’t even planning to see them, were you?”

“Shan, give her a break—”

You wince. “Well—”

“Nonsense. This is the perfect opportunity,” she says, cutting both you and your dad off with one word.

“Oh god, Shan,” your dad pleads.

“What?” Rafe repeats in a whisper, tugging on the bottom of your shirt like a child.

“This is perfect, Rafe can finally meet your side of the family—we can all take the jet. I’ll call Mel to see if they’ll want to fly out, too—I’m sure they will, we never make it up there anymore—god knows this is an occasion,” your mom says, already pacing around the kitchen, reaching for her cell phone. “The twins will have to come over, too. Dylan can come up from school for the weekend, can’t he?”

“Oh my god,” you groan, slipping down in your seat.

“Sit up straight, dear. The three of you can wrap up breakfast, I have phone calls to make. This will be such fun, Rafe—what a great idea!” she says, patting him on the shoulder on her way out. Rafe finds the composure to smile at that, but quickly returns to his perpetual confusion, gulping as he looks between you and your dad.

“Rafe…”

“You’ve done it now, kid,” your dad sighs, hands dug into his pocket as he stares at the same spot on the counter, his mind racing probably as fast as your own.

“I—what—I don’t… what did I do?” Rafe pleads. “Y/n/n, what?”

Your protective instinct kicks in, and you’re quickly soothing him, going on the defensive with your father.

“Dad, he didn’t know,” you say, your hand slipping to Rafe’s knee. He grabs your hand immediately, squeezing your fingers like a lifeline as he looks between the two of you, still hopelessly confused.

“I know,” your dad sighs, pouring a fresh cup of coffee. “You’re fine, Rafe. It’s fine.”

“I’m sorry—what just happened?”

“Well it looks like our trip just got hijacked, and now you get to meet Ellis and DeeDee, my dad’s parents,” you sigh, mentally preparing yourself for the weekend that now lies ahead. Your first weekend away with your boyfriend, gone in the blink of an eye—and replaced with something so unfavorable. “And probably all of the cousins, and—yeah.”

Rafe catches the awkward way your sentence cuts off but doesn’t question it in front of your father, even though you know he sees the two of you making eye contact again. You don’t know why that last part even came out of your mouth, there’s only a slim chance who you’re thinking of would actually be there anyway. But Theo wasn’t someone you’d ever be able to disassociate from your dad’s side of the family in your mind, it seems.

“I’m sorry—is that bad?” Rafe asks, still looking lost for words.

“Define bad,” your dad says.

“Dad,” you scold. “Don’t make him feel worse.”

“I am literally just so confused right now,” Rafe says. “Do we—is it… do we not like this side of the family?”

Your dad laughs at that, full and hearty. “Define like.”

You finally crack a smile despite your nerves, especially when you see how red Rafe’s cheeks are. Your dad laughs his way out of the kitchen, leaving you alone with Rafe and Wilbur, who’s been laying at your boyfriend’s feet this entire time, waiting for table scraps. “Hey, smooth guy.”

“Quick question: does your dad hate me now?” Rafe asks.

“No,” you chuckle, smiling sadly. “My dad hates his dad.”

You catch the way Rafe’s eyebrow furrows at that, wishing you could take the words back immediately—not taking a second to think it through from Rafe’s perspective. “Oh.”

“It’s not—he’s… it’s just complicated. Family, you know?” you explain, stroking his forearm where it rests on the counter. “It’s gonna be fine. It’ll be a lot, but fine.”

“I’m sorry it’s happening like this, sweetheart. But, I’d love to meet them all,” he says. “If they’re your family, it’s important to me. No matter what.”

You catch his earnest gaze, wishing you hadn’t kept this part of your past hidden for so long—because it was about to come surface whether you liked it or not.

“Well, good. Because it’s not like we have a choice now anyway,” you declare, standing up. Rafe tugs you into his personal space with his hands on the small of your back, his eyes still pleading for reassurance. You lean into him, practically eye level in this position, kissing his cheek. “They’re gonna love you. C’mon, help me clear these plates. I want to get home before Dylan calls to cuss you the fuck out in approximately twenty minutes.”

You smile as Rafe sputters again, before walking to the sink with hands full of plates and a sick feeling settling in your stomach.

—

A few nights later, you’d fallen asleep in the middle of your Y/l/n family tree crash course session with Rafe. He lets you snooze on his chest, it was late after all—but that doesn’t stop him from scrolling through the list of names he’d made on his phone, flipping between that and the picture you’d sent him from a few years back. (‘We like Aunt Mel—we love Aunt Mel. And EJ and Tiffany, her kids. We tolerate twin Uncles Charles and Zachary. They’re the ones fighting to take over for my grandpa when he passes. It was supposed to be my dad but he got out, and Aunt Mel was never given the chance. Uncle Zach is always dating someone my age—don’t call him Zach, he hates it. And Uncle Charlie’s kids from his first marriage, Michael, Dale, and Ingrid—the worst. Absolute worst, ask Dylan.) He keeps getting distracted as he zooms in and navigates around the photo, pausing every time he catches your smiling face among your family members, nestled between who he now knows are your Aunt Mel and your cousin Tiffany.

You told him that the picture is from high school—like he wouldn’t be able to recognize the girl he first fell in love with. If he stares for too long, before glancing down to where your head rests on his chest, one of his college shirts loose around your body—in the bed the two of you share, on the frame he built, wrapped up in the sheets you picked out, his head starts to spin.

The sound of your ringtone breaks Rafe’s reverie, his brow furrowing when he checks his watch to see how late it is. You stir just as he’s reaching over to answer it for you, shuffling around and accepting your phone from his hand. Your tired eyes widen and you roll over to turn on the light, holding the phone to your ear.

“Dyl? Y’okay?” you murmur into the receiver. Rafe’s hand falls to your side and you lay flat on your back again, your hand sliding over his own as an annoyed groan leaves your lips. “Seriously?”

“Everything okay?” Rafe whispers, his study session long forgotten as he watches you.

You nod at him, closing your eyes in resignation.

“Alright. Where are you?” Rafe watches you roll out of bed then, standing up and stretching your tired body. “Okay, don’t move. I can be there in fifteen—no, don’t be ungrateful. You know I hate driving on the island at night, Dylan. I’ll get there when I get there.”

You pad into the bathroom with a soft click of the door cutting off your next rebuttal (‘well, maybe you shouldn’t have gotten drunk on a Wednesday night—’) but Rafe doesn’t even wait to ask you, pulling on a hoodie and shoving a beanie over his pillow-messy hair before coming into the bathroom after you.

You’re off the phone now, your tired eyes barely open in the reflection of the mirror as you brush your teeth. Rafe’s not sure exactly why, but he knew you weren’t sleeping well these days.

“Hey, where’s he at?”

“What?” you ask, pink toothbrush hanging out of your mouth. Your eyes catch his new attire in the mirror, your shoulders sagging. “No, Rafe. You don’t have to go.”

“C’mon, go back to sleep. I’ve got him,” Rafe assures you. “Where is he?”

You turn around after spitting out your toothpaste in the sink and rinsing out your mouth, crossing your arms over your chest. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, baby. I wasn’t even sleeping yet,” he tells you, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “Want me to text him and ask?”

“No, his phone died. I’ll send you the pin he dropped for me—hopefully he doesn’t move.”

Rafe’s reassured in his choice to take over for you once he sees how far Dylan had ended up, at the strip of dive bars on the Cut that was over a fifteen-minute drive from your house—even further from your parents, where he’d have to drop Dylan off.

The boy in question is standing under a streetlight, thankfully unmoved by the time Rafe arrives, and he sees his face light up in surprise.

“Well if it isn’t the man himself,” Dylan slurs in greeting, unceremoniously throwing open the door of Rafe’s truck. “Sup, Rafester?”

“Get in the truck, bud,” Rafe says, resisting an eye roll at the nickname your brother had been calling him for over a year now. “C’mon, it’s late. Wanna get home to your sister.”

“I didn’t need to hear that.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Shh,” Dylan shushes, thankfully getting in the car and buckling himself in immediately. “Y’know what, I’m glad she sent you. Got a bone to pick with you, my friend.”

“You picked it pretty well already. So did your dad and your sister,” Rafe sighs, sick of hearing it at this point.

“How’s Y/n/n?”

“Fine?” Rafe says immediately, before pausing to think about it. “Well…”

“Is she listening to her depression music?”

“What, Death Cab?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Rafe confirms.

“Oof,” Dylan groans. “Unsurprising.”

Rafe clenches his jaw involuntarily, trying to focus on the drive back to Figure 8. But he just can’t, and part of him wonders if your younger brother’s lessened filter (not that he ever had one to begin with) was a prime opportunity. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why does she get like this? What’s so bad about this half of the family?”

“Wow,” Dylan breathes, sliding down into his seat. “Heavy hitter. Just—okay. You know how Y/n gets really nervous every time she has to see your dad?”

Rafe clears his throat, pointedly ignoring the way that makes him feel. “Yeah.”

“Probably shouldn’t have said that. Anyway,” Dylan continues. “That’s like my mom and my dad’s family. And my dad hates it—he got out, moved here and said ‘fuck the family business,’ yadayadayada, now Y/n and I are here, where was I going with this… oh! Yeah, man. I dunno, it’s just family bullshit. Stresses her out. Stresses us all out.”

“And that’s all it is?”

Dylan waves a hand in dismissal, and Rafe isn’t sure what to make of that, if he’s honest. “You’ll be fine, Rafe. You’re actually the first guy who’s ever even made it up there, has to mean something. Well, I guess, besides… oof.”

That pique’s Rafe’s interest. “What?”

Dylan mumbles something unintelligible, but Rafe is pretty sure he hears ‘sibling code.’

“Dude, what are you saying? You’ve got a flight in the morning—are you gonna be straight for tomorrow?”

“Bloody Mary on the PJ, baby. We’re all gonna need some alcohol to get through this weekend alive, trust me,” Dylan scoffs, throwing his phone on the floor of Rafe’s car when he realizes it’s dead. “Listen, man. Very important question for you—my sister’s honor depends on it.”

“Uh… shoot?”

“What are the odds you hang a left up here and take me to Papi’s?”

Rafe rolls his eyes again, still shifting into the turn lane anyway. “You know, you really take after your sister in all of the worst ways.”

“Uh, excuse you. I’m an athlete, I gotta eat,” Dylan huffs. “And you love my sister, so if I take after her—Rafe, bro. Do you love me?”

“Mm, an athlete who’s getting wasted in his hometown on a weeknight.”

“Fuck off, Cameron,” Dylan says, laughing gleefully. “I’m only here because of your dumbass, and the season’s over anyway.”

“Let me guess,” Rafe says, pulling into the parking lot. “Veggie nachos.”

“Yep. Should be $8.50,” Dylan prompts. Rafe would never let the kid pay for his own food anyway, but decides to mess with him just a little, giving him a blank stare. Dylan’s eyebrows furrow just like yours do, but looking the slightest bit more fierce. “Dude.”

“The worst ways,” Rafe repeats, handing over a crisp twenty. “Make sure you leave a tip.”

“Duh.”

—

Your sanity for this entire weekend hinges solely on the fact that you somehow convinced your mother to let you and Rafe keep your original flight into Boston. The two of you would leave the Outer Banks on Friday as you’d intended, and drive out to meet them at your grandparents’ house while the rest of them took the plane to a smaller, regional airport in the area on Thursday. You and Rafe would stay the night, then be on your way to your AirBnb, an entire blessed hour and fourteen minutes away, by Saturday morning.

As the weekend drew nearer, you just had to keep reminding yourself that this was supposed to be your trip with Rafe. Flying with Rafe, road tripping with Rafe; Rafe, Rafe, Rafe. Which was moot, because then you’d just start to think about Rafe meeting your snooty, old grandfather, Rafe meeting your rude uncles, Rafe meeting the Caldecotts—nonsense, you have to remind yourself.

There’s no way the one weekend you all make the trip up to Massachusetts, your grandfather would invite family friends to come by. Last you heard, Theo was living out in Boston, anyway.

Then again, you stopped keeping up with him senior year of high school, when you couldn’t bear to even come across a stray Instagram post after everything that he’d said to you.

Rafe, Rafe, Rafe. Focus on Rafe—getting him through this weekend, enjoying the rest of your trip alone with him. Rafe.

“Baby?”

“What?”

The boy in question smiles sleepily, his eyes only half-open at the early hour. He nudges your hands away from where you’d been angrily tugging on your suitcase zipper, closing it with ease. “I said, Top just left to come get us.”

“Okay, we’re gonna give him money to buy a coffee on his way home, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you packed that one white button-down, right? That looks good with your hair?”

“Yes. Although—still offended you don’t think I can dress myself for a family dinner.”

“It’s not—Rafe, my mother will literally make you change. I’m not kidding.”

“I packed it, I packed it,” he assures you. “In our garment bag so it won’t get wrinkled. Along with two other options… and your four back-up dresses.”

You don’t even register his dig, plowing ahead. “And did you—”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Rafe answers, punctuating each word with a kiss, his hands gripping your cheeks tightly. “We did everything. I love you, and you have to calm down.”

“I’m trying,” you sigh, letting your hands drop from your hips as he rubs your shoulders. “I promise.”

“Try harder for me. It’s, like, sixteen hours with your family. We survived a week in the Bahamas with mine, this is nothing,” Rafe reminds you. “Alright?”

“Alright,” you agree.

Just in time, too, because Topper’s Jeep honks loudly outside of your home at that moment. You finish watering all your plants and leave them in the sink to drain, following Rafe out of the house and into the driveway, bypassing where he’s fitting the luggage into the hatch to sit up front with Topper.

“Hey, Y/n/n,” he says as you slip in, looking a little lively for this time of the morning. Even in your school days, Topper always seemed to be one of those people that lived for mornings, annoying absolutely everyone around him in an endearing way, like an un-trained golden retriever. “You excited?”

“Top,” you groan. “What are the chances I convince you to wreck your car on the way to the ferry right now?”

“Okay, jeez,” Topper laughs. “It can’t be that bad. Wasn’t this the family that used to come down all the time?”

You bite your lip, hoping if you change the subject Topper will stop exploring the memories he has. “Yep. By the way, did you find out if Blythe—”

“Wait,” Topper says, shifting in his seat toward you. “This isn’t that family that tried to set you up with that one guy, right? God—what was that kid’s name…”

“Can you not speak loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear?” you groan, smacking his arm lightly. You glance through the car to where Rafe is still working on configuring the luggage, grateful you’d overpacked as you always do. Topper’s looking at you, waiting for an answer, and you sigh. “Yes. Theo.”

“Theo,” Topper says, nodding in recognition. “Are you gonna see him, too?”

“No,” you say. “No.”

“Wow,” he laughs. “I think I’d actually pay for a front-row seat to Rafe seeing him again for the first time. He’d probably kick his ass.”

You close your eyes, heaving a tortured sigh. “Top, I think I fucked up.”

“Huh?”

“Rafe doesn’t know.”

“Doesn’t know what?”

“Anything about that, about Theo. Honestly, I’m surprised you do—ah, Kelce?”

“Guilty,” Topper shrugs. “And what do you mean Rafe doesn’t know? You dated that guy—”

“We didn’t date.”

“Okay, whatever. But it was summer before senior year, right? Trust me—Rafe knew, moped about it all summer.”

“What?”

Topper looks caught out. “Uh… I feel like we’re talking about two different things right now.”

“I barely saw Rafe that summer,” you remind him. “I barely saw any of you—how would he… I begged Kelce not to tell him about this.”

“Okay, slow down,” Topper says. “If you asked Kelce not to, I’m sure he didn’t. I just meant Rafe knew you two were a thing—like, very much knew. But judging by the look on your face—I’m guessing he never got all of the details.”

“I dunno what Kelce told you—but, no. He doesn’t know anything, really,” you admit.

“Why not?”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” you lie through your teeth. “Like, Rafe and Chloe. It was high school, it doesn’t matter.”

Topper looks uneasy, glancing back at his friend at the trunk. “Y/n. That guy was a dick to you, and you were extremely upset, for really a long time. Isn’t that why Kelce started dragging you to Rafe’s games in the first place? I thought—I dunno. That’s when I started to think that you two would go for it.”

The look in Topper’s eyes mirrors one you can recall from that summer, when you ran into him for the first time after Theo left the Outer Banks. Topper had been grocery shopping with his mom while you were with yours, waving awkwardly to you while they dished island gossip. It clicks now that you know he knew what happened with Theo back then—at least the Kelce version.

Things were weird between you two at the time, the same way they were weird between you and most of your friends. You spent the summer essentially isolated from all of them, chasing after a guy who’d never really want a girl like you in the end. Who, at your older age, you now realize you never really wanted in the first place either—not as anything more than a distraction from another. Who broke your heart and then left town like he was always going to—like your friends saw he would from a mile away, after meeting him one time. But you didn’t listen.

“Yeah,” you clear your throat. “Well, I was 17. And I’m 22 now, and really happy with my current boyfriend, so.”

“He deserves to know, Y/n/n,” Topper says. “Especially if that kid ever pops up again.”

“He won’t,” you insist. “We hardly see this half of the family, and it’s not like he stays in my guest house anymore.”

“Y/n/n—”

“Top,” you warn.

“What are you afraid of?”

“You’re afraid of what?” Rafe says, suddenly slipping into the backseat, eyes glancing between the two of you. “Y/n/n?”

You watch Topper shake his head and start his engine, dropping the subject now that Rafe’s back.

“Missing our flight,” you fib, leaning further into the back section of the car.

Rafe smiles and rolls his eyes, leaning forward to kiss you before he puts his seatbelt on. “Stop worrying. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

—

The airport and the flight pass with little fanfare. Rafe, nonchalant as ever, nods off on your shoulder for most of the plane ride. He put up the seat rest in between the two of you so he could crowd into your space, snuffling into your shoulder while you binged shitty coffee from the beverage cart and the in-flight entertainment. You were grateful he slept through most of it, because the way you didn’t shed a tear at the John Hughes movie playing would’ve been a dead giveaway that your emotions were out of whack. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to hide that from Rafe, but you can’t say it’ll be a while given his track record for reading you.

“Okay,” you sigh, shivering as you wait on the airport curb. “I’m gonna text my dad that they can send the car.”

“They were gonna send us a car?” Rafe says, looking impressed. You quirk an eyebrow as he takes your phone out of your hand and puts it in his pocket. “Jeez, sweetheart. Hands are freezing.”

He cups them between his own, blowing hot air on your frozen fingers.

“Uh. They are going to send us a car. If you’d let me text them.”

“Oh,” Rafe says, smiling, dropping your hands. “No, that won’t be necessary. We’re driving. I didn’t tell you?”

“What?”

Rafe looks around the exterior of the airport, pointing behind his shoulder when he spots the rental car area. “C’mon, this way.”

A million questions pop into your head but you follow him anyway, holding the garment bag in both arms, casting your boyfriend sideways glances. “We’re renting a car?”

“I already rented us a car,” he amends.

“What—why? I told you I’d handle getting us there.”

“Yeah, well. I didn’t listen to you,” Rafe shrugs, pushing both of your suitcases along with one hand, still smirking. “Keep up, Y/l/n.”

“Rafe…” you trail off, smiling despite yourself at his chipper mood.

He checks you in at the counter while you just look on at him, trying to figure out what he was playing at. Rafe didn’t know the area at all, and it’d be ten times easier to take the town car your grandpa would send for you. That’s what you usually did the few times you’d fly into this airport as a teenager or a young adult.

“What?” he asks after you’ve been staring for a while.

“What do you mean what? Why did you rent us a car?” you ask, following the agent through the garage.

“Here you are, Mr. Cameron. Should have a full tank. You can call us if you have any questions.”

“Thank you, will do,” Rafe says, accepting the keys and bidding her goodbye. You stay rooted to your spot, blinking slowly at the white Jeep you were standing in front of. “Baby?”

“It’s my Jeep,” you say, your bottom lip jutting out as you survey the car—the exact one you’d sold before you moved back to the Outer Banks. You loved that car, to the extent that you complained to Rafe about missing it every time you saw one around town.

“It’s not your Jeep. But it basically is,” he shrugs. “You like it?”

“Rafe—can I drive it?”

“You up for it?” he wonders, his grin widening. “I can drive, I know you weren’t anticipating a road trip today.”

“No,” you say, holding your hands out for the keys. “I wanna drive, there are places I wanna show you. And it’s my car. You rented my car.”

A small part of you remembers that Rafe drives way faster than you do, and your control of the vehicle will possibly help delay your arrival time even more. You’d tick down the minutes in just about any way you could at this point.

He runs a hand through your hair, letting it settle behind your neck so he can bring you in to kiss your forehead. “I knew you were stressed, just wanted to do something for you. And this way, we have about three extra hours of alone time. On what was supposed to be our weekend trip.”

“You sap,” you accuse, pushing on his chest. “I love you. And I’m really sorry about our trip.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s technically mine,” he reminds you. “So let’s make the most of it, yeah? And I love you, too.”

—

Focusing on the road is a welcome distraction for you, even though it’s a drive you know well by this point. Rafe is your eager passenger as you point things out to him, hyping you up when you’re first driving out of the city—he definitely flipped someone off for you and pretended he didn’t, laughed while he told you to ‘pay attention to the road.’

You smile and roll your eyes when Rafe tells you he needs to make a stop at a florist on the way over, picking out two bouquets for your mother and grandmother, plucking one singular peony out of one of the arrangements and presenting it to you dramatically. It sits on the dash now, the pink hue reflecting in the front windshield and making you a little giddy every time you spot it again. But it doesn’t completely calm the storm inside your head, and you go relatively quiet after the third pit stop, the scenery indicating to you that you were under an hour away.

“Are you alright?” Rafe finally asks.

“Yeah. M’just stressed, Rafe.”

“I know. But are you alright?” he repeats.

“Fine,” you tell him, turning the music up louder.

“Okay. ’Cause this is the second time we’ve looped Transatlanticism, and we’ve stopped at three different coffee shops so far.”

Your face screws up. “Well, I’m sorry you’re having such an awful time.”

“Don’t give me lip, Y/n/n,” Rafe grits out. “Come on. How can you still think I don’t have you figured out? I know something’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong, Rafe. Can you drop it?”

“Are you afraid they won’t like me?” Rafe wonders.

“What? No, stop. I know for a fact they’re gonna love you,” you tell him truthfully.

“Well, you said your grandpa is like my dad, so—”

“Rafe,” you chastise quietly, tearing your eyes away from the fall foliage to spare a glance over at him. “What?”

He grins sheepishly, and it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry, thought my daddy issues might lighten the mood.”

“Rafe.”

“Y/n. Why are you freaking out right now?” he asks, unrelenting because he knows you’re off.

“It’s just a lot, okay? My dad gets really stressed out, and that stresses my mom out, and Dylan and I just… I don’t know. But I promise I’m excited for you to meet the cousins and everything.”

“You’re sure? ‘Cause you’re making it sound like Succession over there…” Rafe trails off, hanging his head to the side when you don’t respond. “Oh, come on.”

“No, no. you’re right—it isn’t that bad, it’ll be fine,” you tell him and yourself, blowing out a breath of air. Half an hour to go.

Your phone starts ringing, interrupting the song playing on the car’s bluetooth radio. The display reads Dylan.

“Hey, we’re half an hour away,” you say, by way of greeting.

“Yeah, have your location, Y/n/n. Rafe with you?”

“Hi,” Rafe answers.

“No, I left him in the Outer Banks,” you say, rolling your eyes even though Dylan can’t see you. “Of course he’s here.”

“You’re a brave man, Cameron.”

You grimace. “Dylan. Was there a point to this phone call, or can I hang up?”

“Alright,” he says, tone dropping. “Yeah, um… Grandpa just told me that the Caldecotts are coming to dinner tonight. Thought you’d like the heads up.”

The nagging feeling in your stomach suddenly makes sense, like you could almost sense something like this coming. You take notice of the way Rafe’s staring at the side of your face, carefully and slowly blinking in what you hope comes across as indifference. “All of them?”

“All of them,” Dylan confirms quietly.

“Alright, thanks Dyl. See you soon,” you say, ending the call before he can reply.

You wait for Rafe to ask who the Caldecotts are, but it’s quiet save for the music that continued playing when the phone call ended.

“Caldecott…” he trails off, the name on his lips hitting you like a shock to the system. “I know that name. Why do I know that name?”

You should’ve known he’d remember. You’re stuck then—between keeping up the act and finally fessing up. But you have thirty minutes alone with Rafe before you’re both swept up in the awkward dinners and the subtle digs and the fake smiles. And Top’s words had been on repeat in your head all morning: he deserves to know.

“Okay, um. Do you remember the summer before senior year?”

“Best summer ever,” Rafe says, throwing you off until you realize he thought you’d meant the summer before senior year of college. The summer you fell in love with him.

“No,” you say quietly. “Um, not—not that senior year. I mean senior year of high school.”

“Oh. Yeah,” he breathes, and you can practically see the smile slipping off of his face as all of the cheek leaves his tone. “Yeah, I do. Why?”

Now you just have to wait for him to put it together—you know he will soon enough. It’d taken Topper two seconds flat.

“Why?” he repeats when you don’t answer. “I mean… it was kind of weird, wasn’t it? You and Kelce were in that fight, and you didn’t even hang around with any of us, not Margot and Gretchen. Or Topper, or… me—um. Yeah, and you were… oh. That’s why I know that name.”

—

Summer, 5 years ago

“Y/n, you remember our son, Theodore, don’t you?”

You’d known Theodore Caldecott for probably as long as you’d known Rafe. It’s the kind of knowing that has always existed in your mind, with no memory of ever not knowing each other. Coming up as kids together, with no actual first meeting pinpointed in your history.

“Of course,” you said. “Hi, Theo. It’s nice to see you again.”

It’s been a few years since you’d seen him last, maybe when you were both around the age of twelve if your memory serves you. And he’s grown since then—towering over you now, but from your shorter height you can still make out the faintest twinkle in his eyes, the way they scan your face and then the bare skin on your shoulders.

“You too, Y/n,” he says, name falling off of his tongue with that out-of-town accent.

“Since the Caldecotts are joining us for the summer,” your mom interrupts, addressing Theo’s mother, June, “we thought it’d be a nice idea for Y/n to show him around. She can introduce him to some kids their age.”

You pretend not to notice the tone of her voice, or the way your grandmother’s eyes light up from where she’s sat at the dining table on the back patio.

“I’m sure Theodore would love that,” June says, turning to her son. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Of course,” Theo says, nodding his head. “Show me around your slice of paradise, Y/n.”

And show him, you did.

Theo and his family—you understood that to some extent they were involved in business with your grandfather, but didn’t care much of how—came down with your grandparents every once in a while over the years, and you’d seen him plenty of times on trips the other way around. So there was that sense of familiarity, but it came along with that awkward re-establishment when you both got a little older. But Theo didn’t let that last long.

You found yourselves on familiar footing—the same age, coming from similar families. Theo always came across a little aloof, maybe pretentious at times, but nothing you didn’t think you could see past once you started to notice he was kind of cute. Not very funny, but interesting enough to keep you company all summer.

He was a breath of fresh air in the humid and suffocating southern heat—he wasn’t your best friend, not even your friend. He was someone new, someone different, someone that didn’t remind you at all of Rafe Cameron.

Where Theo was brash and confident, Rafe had newly mellowed, downplaying that reputation he’d come to hold over the years, unearthing that welcoming side of him you’d always known as his best one. Where Rafe was years of history and feelings, Theo felt like a blank slate. Where Theo was loved by your parents and everyone in your family, for that matter—besides Dylan, for why you could never work out—Rafe had always been the island troublemaker to them, even if your grandfather had always admired Cameron Development from a business standpoint.

Theo liked the music you liked, even put you onto some bands that you still can’t really listen to the same way anymore, but it wasn’t the old crooners or vintage country you’d become used to listening to in a certain silver pick-up truck on occasion. He couldn’t change your tire when he ran over a nail, but he called Triple-A and made out with you in the backseat while you waited for your rescue.

Theo Caldecott played lacrosse, not water polo—and he hated golf, too. He wanted to go to school and be a lawyer, not follow footsteps into a family business. Dark curly hair and even darker brown eyes that you could see right through, not silky, light brown strands offset by baby blues that swam with all kinds of emotions you found yourself delighted to decipher.

Theo wasn’t friends with all of your friends, he hadn’t dated any of your classmates—you didn’t know anything about his friends or who he had dated, for that matter. You only knew him in this bubble the two of you had created away from both of your separate lives.

So you did the Island Club dinners with your families, you gave him the grand tour of Kildare and all it had to offer, and somewhere along the way, started sneaking into his bedroom in the guest house late at night when everyone else had gone to sleep. Theo would never climb the vined lattice to your second-story window or dare to sneak up the main staircase, not after Wilbur barked at him for the third straight time.

Behind closed doors or in secluded areas of whatever Figure 8 backyard, you reciprocated the harmless flirtations and the weighted glances; hidden in back hallways of fancy mainland restaurants, you leaned into the weighted touches. You let Theo drive your car to nowhere with his hand on your thigh, or steer your dad’s boat off the coast while you sat in his lap.

Theo held every door and pulled out every chair, but he’d drop your hand anytime a parent looked your way. The pet names reverted to your full name, he’d sit on the opposite side of the table or at least scoot his chair away when you were sat together. And Theo was a gentleman that way, you supposed—wanted to act proper in front of your dad and grandfather. And before you knew the truth, that just made you admire him more.

It made you think that this could be something—this could be someone new, someone you’d never thought of before. Someone who wasn’t Rafe.

You’d been straight up ignoring your friends for a few weeks before you decided it was time to bring Theo around to something resembling a party. You were gunning for that Midsummers escort coming a few weeks down the line and figured now was as good a time as any to bring him into the mix with your friends if they were going to meet him there. Margot and Gretchen had seen bits and pieces of you two, caught glimpses here and there from coy Snapchats. They had shrugged it off like good best friends do when you promised Theo was coming to brunch then awkwardly stumbled over an excuse when he told you he was sleeping in and you showed up by yourself.

But Rafe, Kelce, and Topper had no idea about Theo. You felt weird hiding it from Kelce, but they came as a package deal, and telling one told all.

Which you didn’t feel inclined to do.

Gretchen’s parents go out of town and it’s the perfect opportunity—Theo takes some coaxing but you get him with a pouted bottom lip. “Fine, show me what possible kind of fun you could get up to on this strip of sand.”

You’re nervous of what he’ll think of the party, of the drinks, of your friends and your life. He seems pretty disinterested by it all, bobbing his head to the music and nudging you out of the way when you ask what he wants to drink.

“As I live and breathe,” Topper says at your arrival, causing you to duck your head and cringe slightly as the two of you approach your group of friends. You wait for Theo to drop your hand and so you squeeze it tighter. And he does but it’s to throw that arm around your shoulders instead, bringing you closer to him while he sips his drink, looking around the house in appraisal. “Look who finally decided to show up.”

“Ha, ha,” you say sarcastically, but Topper’s words sting a little when they’re combined with Margot and Gretchen’s uneasy smiles, not to mention the blank stares from Rafe and Kelce. “Guys, um. This is Theo. He’s the one staying in my guest house this summer.”

Theo unwinds from around you but only to go down the line and shake hands as you rattle off everyone’s names for him. “That’s Gretchen and Margot, and this is Topper, Kelce, and Rafe.”

Theo unexpectedly chuckles before settling back into your side, throwing the rest of his drink back. “Those are definitely… names.”

“What was that?” Kelce says immediately, eyebrows furrowed.

Theo raises his hands in surrender before looking down at you. “Nothing. Gonna go get another drink, d’you need one, love?”

“Um, yeah,” you agree, accepting the kiss dropped to your cheek before you send him off, almost wishing you could follow him.

“Some guy you got there, Y/n/n,” Kelce says bitterly, barely waiting for Theo to be out of earshot.

The timid smile that was already a struggle to maintain completely slips off of your face. “What do you mean?”

Kelce scoffs. “He’s a total douche—”

“Cut it out, Kelce,” Margot says. “He’s really cute, Y/n/n.”

“Oh, well, thank god for that.” Kelce says, looking at you significantly. Kelce can read you better than anyone, and you feel transparent under his gaze. And the way you’ve avoided addressing Rafe at all besides when introducing him to Theo is a dead giveaway to your best friend. “You’ve been ghosting us all summer for that dude? Fuckin’ Young Republicans club president? Nice one.”

“Hey. Back off of her, man,” Rafe says sternly, speaking for the first time. You finally look at him then, realizing this might be the first time you’ve properly seen him in a month now. He hadn’t changed a bit, and you still yearned to understand what he meant with those eyes.

“Whatever,” Kelce says.

“You know what, Kelce? Fuck you,” you say, as surprised by it as your entire friend group is. Your anger is misdirected, and probably confusing to everyone else, but you know Kelce is on your wavelength. “I’m sorry that you both just went through breakups and suddenly remember I exist, but—”

“Oh, bullshit, Y/n/n,” Kelce says. “We’ve been inviting you to hang out for weeks now. Radio silence.”

“Yeah,” you agree, not backing down. “After months of ‘sorry, it’s a couples thing’ or whatever—which is fine, I don’t care. But that’s how it works when you date people—”

“Don’t tell me you’re dating that dickhead,” Kelce spits.

“Kelce,” Gretchen warns.

“I think this was a mistake,” you decide, biting your lip and nodding your head as you make yourself believe it. “We’re gonna head home. Gretch, thanks for the invite.”

“Y/n/n, wait,” you hear Rafe say as you turn your back on him. He must turn back to your friends because you can just make out his hurt confession: “I was literally just sitting here doing nothing.”

“That’s all you ever fucking do, Rafe. Nothing.” Margot’s words are the last you hear of that interaction before you spot Theo in the kitchen, pouring a drink way heavier than you’d normally make for yourself.

A suggestion to head home leaves your lips and Theo practically lights up, kisses you in response, goading you to chug your drink before the two of you exit this ‘lame-ass party.’ You make eye contact with Rafe across the living room one more time as Theo tugs you outside with a hand in yours, and you ignore his text asking if you were alright later that night.

The summer passed in much the same way, shirking the texts from your friends while you focused on all things Theo. You got the Midsummers date you wanted, even though he didn’t want to match his pocket square to your dress when you offered to help him pick one out on the mainland, and even though he spent the entire night whispering snide comments into your ear about the decorations and the drinks and the people you’d known all your life. You ignored the curious looks cast toward you from your friends when Theo twirled you around the dance floor for exactly one song he deemed worthy, especially the disapproving one from Kelce.

And then August comes and Theo’s leaving with the heat of the summer. You sit on his guest bed and twirl a strand of hair as he packs his things, wondering why the pit in your stomach is heavier than you’d thought it'd be as you watch him squeeze the rest of his clothing into his suitcase. He hadn’t let you keep the Cape Cod sweatshirt you’d stolen for most of the summer.

You’re smarter now, but at the time you thought you loved him, or at least could love him one day. What wasn’t to love? He ticked every box you’d ever had.

“M’gonna miss you, y’know?” you tell him, kicking his shin softly.

Theo hums noncommittally, turning his back to rifle through the drawer in the bedside table. “Yeah, we had a fun run this summer, didn’t we?”

Your heart sank immediately, your mouth drying before you cleared your throat. “I was thinking, like… I go up to see my grandparents enough. And you could always come down here for a weekend or something. And then if we end up at school together next year, y’know… wouldn’t that be cool?”

“Oh,” Theo starts, standing up straight. He smiles sadly, an air of condescension permeating his tone as he stalks toward you, a hand falling under your chin. “Y/n, you know that we’re not… I live in Massachusetts. You live here.”

“I know, Theo. But like I just said—”

“I heard you,” he interrupts. “But, love. We’re not really… this wasn’t anything serious for us, right? At least not for me.”

You think back to all the times he distanced himself from you the second you were in front of his parents, everything clicking in your mind. But you were young and naive, and you’d never been able to wear your heart anywhere but on your sleeve—the initial reason you’d ran from your friend and into the arms of this guy who was about to break your heart, a guy who never should’ve had it in the first place. “But, Theo…”

“I really thought we were on the same page about this, Y/n,” he starts. “We don’t… we’re not meant to be together-together, you know?”

“Why not?”

“Because, I’m gonna be at university next year,” he says. “You maybe are, too. But, it’s different y’know? You’re gonna be president of some SEC sorority, some running back is gonna ring you by spring. And then you’ll be back here, raising a ton of kids and going to those country club meetings with your mom. But I need—I’ll be with someone more my pace, you know?”

You feel dizzy with every comment he’s just thrown at you, your cheeks burning like you’d been slapped. “Y-your pace?”

“Someone serious,” he clarifies, his hand still cupping your chin. You realize then that you’ve started crying, because his calloused thumb swipes along your cheek. You shove his touch away. “I really am sorry, love. Thought that was obvious.”

“Then why did you… why did we—” you cut yourself off. “This whole summer Theo, I thought—”

“What, that we’d make it out of here?” he says, eyes glimmering slightly as he shakes his head. “Y/n, come on. You’re sweet as hell, but you’re not dumb.”

“I feel like it right now,” you announce standing up. “I feel like an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.”

“Are you sure? Because I think that’s what you basically just said,” you accuse.

“I should’ve known you’d be like this,” he admits. “It’s those eyes, Y/n. You couldn’t hide anything with those, love.”

“Don’t call me that,” you cry, letting him pull you into his arms in a moment of weakness. He kisses your forehead and it feels wrong and you feel worse.

“You can text me whenever you’re in Massachusetts, alright? I loved this summer thing we had going, but… time to get back to real life.”

He sends you on your way and you hide in your room as the Caldecotts and your grandparents make their grand exit, begging your little brother to cover for you. Dylan does, looking not the least bit surprised at your red-rimmed eyes after he watched you head out to the guest house that evening. Your hands shake as you delete Theo’s number immediately, scrolling to another one that you hadn’t called in a while on pure instinct. It only rings twice.

Kelce’s tone is slightly hesitant, like he knows you’re calling for a reason and it’s not a good one. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

“C-Can I come over?”

—

Rafe’s thoughts are going a mile a minute at the sound of a name he hadn’t heard in years. One that meant virtually nothing to him now, but for one summer was literally all he could wonder about. About the guy that had pulled you away from all of them and from him, who drove a wedge between you and Kelce like he’d never seen before and never thought he would, the two of you thick as thieves for as long as Rafe could remember. Who seemed like your perfect match in every possible way, who Rafe couldn’t help but compare himself to even though he told himself he shouldn’t care.

Rafe looks over when you speak again, turning the music down so he can hear you properly.

“How much do you remember from that summer?”

—

Fall, 5 years ago

Rafe formally met Theo when you brought him along to Gretchen’s party. But that wasn’t the first time he’d seen the two of you together.

He’d tuned out any murmurs about some guy you were hanging around with about as soon as they started, like there was some part of his brain that he just decided to shut down. He was fresh off of a break-up with Chloe, and he didn’t realize why it wasn’t getting to him like he thought it might. Rafe suddenly had way more time to hang out with his friends that he didn’t before, he didn’t have to wonder about if he was a bad boyfriend or if he was more into it than she was or if he wasn’t doing anything right or if it was supposed to feel like that—he felt like he could breathe again for a second, that first time he saw you at the Island Club after the break-up. And then things went to shit with Kelce and Sidney, and then suddenly… you weren’t around anymore. Ever.

He worried about you enough to drive by your house exactly twice, never stopping to knock on your door like he planned. Rafe never fully worked himself up to it, would always convince himself he was just overreacting. It wasn’t like you were dead. You just hadn’t answered his last few texts, or Kelce’s. It was strange, and then it all made sense when he heard about the touron from New England that was staying in the guest house. You’d told him about Theo the day he arrived—of course that’s what it was, how could he forget so easily?

But everything really made sense the time he saw you at the Kildare co-op, alone at first. His feet were already in a path toward where you stood checking every container of strawberries for freshness as he contemplated how much longer your hair had grown in the last month—and you weren’t alone. A guy Rafe had never seen before was appearing at your side with a jar of Nutella. You smiled up at him when you saw it in his hands, finally settling on the container of strawberries you were holding.

Rafe left the grocery store before he could see the guy kiss you, peeling out of the parking lot after leaving every item he was holding on a random shelf.

Of course you’re ignoring Rafe—all of them—but him especially. Hadn’t that been what he’d done for the last six months, while he was taken? Hadn’t the realization that Rafe had missed you, really missed you all those months practically smacked him across the face the first time he saw you after his break-up?

Rafe doesn’t ask anyone what they know—he doesn’t want to know. He cares, but he doesn’t want to know if Theo almost kissing you by the strawberries means he’s your boyfriend when just last week he contemplated inviting you to a round of golf for over an hour before finally doing it, only for you to read it three hours later and never respond.

Rafe spends the summer working part-time for his dad, fucking around at SAT prep with Kelce and Topper, and conveniently exiting any conversation that devolved to you as the main subject. He keeps his head down, works on his golf game, takes the long way around Figure 8 so he doesn’t have to drive by your house anymore. He goes to twice as many water polo summer workouts as he’d originally planned to when school let out, leaves Midsummers early after a record low, forty-five-minute stint at the Island Club that involved seeing you and what’s-his-face and your family and his family all smiling and laughing.

He plans to get wasted at the Boneyard every weekend but his heart is just never fully in it; Rafe gets super invested in some baking show with Wheez one day when we just can’t push his own thoughts away while he’s alone in his room. He scolds Sarah the first time she almost gets herself caught drunkenly stumbling into the house in the middle of the night, then feels bad when he almost makes her cry. And Rafe thinks about what you would’ve done in that situation, what you would’ve told him to do, and fixes it immediately and makes sure Sarah knows she should always call him, always.

He narrows down his list of colleges while wondering where you’ll end up; he starts drafting his application essays but he can’t not hear what you’d be telling him to take out or re-work and then that’s no longer a viable distraction, either.

And he decidedly does not give himself time to think about what any of that means.

If Top and Kelce notice they don’t say anything—Kelce too preoccupied with his own residual heartbreak and some weird tiff he has with you for ignoring all of them, and Top probably because he’s Top.

So the summer you asked Rafe about—that passed by in a blur for him. What Rafe does remember, when he formed some of the core memories of his adolescence, what to this day can be brought back to him in an instant the first time he sees a leaf turn orange or feels that long-awaited autumn chill on the first real cloudy day that isn’t just a summer day in disguise hidden under a storm—is that fall.

Summer was slipping away but Rafe didn’t find himself caring as much this particular August. He was ready to get back into his routine, get his senior season started, not have any time to work for his dad. And he knew for sure he’d finally be seeing more of you.

But he threw his end-of-the-summer party like he had been doing for the last few years anyway, making the trip out to the liquor store on the Cut that didn’t card with Topper and Kelce on the day of.

While they’re picking up, Rafe briefly wonders how much alcohol he should consume in order to forget that you had viewed the invite and never responded. He doesn’t know why it surprises him anymore or why it can still bring him down but at this point it just does.

“Do you think Y/n/n is coming?” he finally asks Kelce, about three drinks deep and beginning to grow annoyed by the number of people in his house.

“Fucking doubt it,” Kelce deadpans, a water bottle crinkling in his hand. “I haven’t heard from her in weeks.”

“Me either,” Rafe agrees. He knows you’re closer to Kelce than you are to him, and it gives him the smallest sense of solace that it’s all of them you’re giving the cold shoulder. “Should we be worried?”

“You aren’t?”

Rafe sips more of his beer, contemplating admitting that. “I mean, yeah. A little. Just figured she needed space or something after Gretchen’s party.”

“Space,” Kelce laughs. “Yeah. Okay.”

“You’re kinda harsh on her, man,” Rafe says instinctively, leaping to your defense when you’ve ignored him for an entire summer for some Ivy League shoo-in staying in your guest house. When Kelce is absolutely the last guy he’d ever need to protect you from.

His friend must agree, leveling him with a look before rolling his eyes. “I just hate it when my friends are being idiots.”

“Don’t fucking call her that, Kelce—”

“Oh, I didn’t mean just her.”

“What does that mean?”

Kelce opens his mouth to speak again but his phone starts ringing, drawing his attention to the screen. “Look at that. It’s Y/n/n.”

Rafe swallows down a desperate ‘answer it’ because of course Kelce already is; Rafe sensed the worry in his tone when he saw it was you finally calling after all this time. His face fully transforms from confusion to concern, and he’s slipping off of the counter in Rafe’s kitchen. “I’m at Tanneyhill, do you wanna come here?”

Rafe perks up immediately, looking around and wondering how quickly he could clear out a very intoxicated, large portion of Kildare Academy’s incoming senior class currently occupying his downstairs.

“Yeah, no. Yeah—you’re probably not good to drive. I can be there in five.”

Rafe follows Kelce to his front door, begging with his eyes for any hints as to what’s going on—if you’re hurt or if anything happened or if he can help. But Kelce is on a mission, and Rafe can merely listen in on the rest of Kelce’s half of the conversation. “What do you have to be sorry for?” Kelce asks.

And then before he shuts the front door to Tanneyhill for good, car keys in hand, Rafe hears the kicker. “I’ll kill him.”

And that was that on Theo. Rafe never heard about him again, nobody ever brought him up or asked what happened, and you never offered anything. Rafe wondered for a while but he’d never go seeking information from you, and eventually, it was in the past.

School started then, and you were back but for a while, you weren’t you. Rafe had to nudge you every time you fell asleep in AP Calc before your teacher saw, sending you pictures of his notes or homework whenever you needed. You seemed off in every way and you seemed tired all the time. You spoke softer than you already did and hardly at all unless spoken to. But you started coming to Rafe’s games—started coming to his games in his shirt.

He pressed Kelce, who said you were just stressed and drowning in your college applications, still unsure of where you even wanted to go.

Rafe didn’t get that part, he knew you’d literally end up wherever you could dream of.

One November day, as soon as Rafe sees you crossing the Island Club parking lot, he thanks the past version of himself profusely for deciding to shower at the gym instead of waiting until he got home. He doesn’t know when he became so conscious of how he appeared when you were around, but he can’t help but check his hair in his car window before he calls out to you.

“Y/n? What’s up?” he says, smiling and waving when you actually see him. But even when you wave and start making your way toward him, your features don’t indicate at all that you’re happy to see him.

“Hey, Rafe. Kelce is inside, right?” you ask, pointing back to the club.

“Oh, shit, Y/n/n. He just left, something with his mom,” Rafe tells you.

“Oh,” you say, wrapping your arms around your midsection and exhaling a shaky breath. “Okay. Uh, thanks. I should—”

“Y/n/n,” he begins nervously, taking in your wrinkled sweatshirt and messy hair. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, I’m not,” you breathe, shaking your head. “Can I—sorry, I’m gonna go.”

“No, hey, hey, hey,” Rafe says, bending at the knees slightly so he can look directly in your eyes, his stomach twisting when he can see they’re completely bloodshot and punctuated by the bags beneath them—covered in a light sheen of tears that look like they’re ready to fall at any second. “Talk to me, Y/l/n.”

“Rafe, no,” you sigh, blinking rapidly with your head tipped up at the sky. “It’s so stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not,” he says, stepping forward hesitantly, retracting his hand when it reaches out of its own accord. “Do you—uh. Do you need a hug?”

You look a little taken aback at first, and Rafe almost regrets whatever stupid instinct in his body compelled him to say something like that—what he’d say to Wheezie or Sarah, but you? Why the fuck would he—but a second later you’re stepping forward, right into his arms that circle around you on autopilot.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll work it out,” he says quietly, his hand rubbing between your shoulder blades. He’s worried to all hell about you like he has been since June, but for the life of him, he can’t stop thinking about how your head fits right in his chest, tucked under his chin. Feels his cheeks flush red when you squeeze him around his waist.

“These college apps are just ruining my life, Rafe,” you say, finally pulling back, hand wiping under your eyes furiously. “I’m so ready for them to be over.”

“That’s what you’re crying about?” Rafe asks incredulously.

You rear back slightly. “Um… yeah?”

“Y/n—you know you’re gonna get into whatever school you want, don’t you? You’re the smartest person I know,” he says, feeling his cheeks heat up as soon as the words leave his mouth. “Um, I mean—no. Yeah. You’re gonna be fine, seriously.”

“Rafe,” you sigh. “Stop.”

“I’m serious!” he laughs. “And you’re also the only reason any of the rest of us are going to get into any good schools.”

Your lips quirk up a little at that. “Rafe, your personal statement was amazing. I read it like five times before I even took out a pen.”

“Yeah?” Rafe says, voice pitched high, blush coming roaring back. “I didn’t think it was anything special. And you marked it up enough.”

“No, don’t. It was great,” you say, smiling softly before he recognizes that familiar glint in your eye. “You’re just bad at sentence structure. If you tell Kelce or Top this I’ll deny it, but it was the best one I’ve read.”

“Oh, I’m telling them,” Rafe scoffs. He goes to pull out his phone, trying to downplay the butterflies he feels at your praise. “Actually, let me text them right now—”

“God, never mind,” you groan. “It was awful. Worst thing I’ve read. And you still owe me a coffee for that one, Cameron.”

Rafe nudges your shoulder with his knuckles. “I told you I’d bring it to school, any day you asked.”

“Tomorrow, please. I’m gonna need it,” you sigh, leaning up against his truck, finally looking relaxed. “These deadlines are kicking my ass.”

“Where are you applying to that’s taking applications so early?” he wonders.

“My top choices are all out west,” you say. “I think I give myself the best chance if I apply early action.”

Rafe furrows his eyebrows. “Out west? Like…”

“California, mostly,” you say quietly. “A few in Washington, too. One in Oregon.”

“Oh.” That’s far. Very far, Rafe realizes. Far from home, far from wherever he’ll end up. Far from him.

“Yeah.”

“I thought… you don’t wanna apply anywhere closer? Or what about your dad’s alma mater—what was it?”

Your features downturn immediately, and you shake your head definitively. “No. Doesn’t really seem like my scene anymore.”

“I’m sure your parents loved that one,” Rafe jokes off-handedly, mind racing thinking about just how many times a year he’ll even be able to see you anymore when you’re that far away.

“Thought we were creating a safe space here, Cameron,” you tell him, smiling where you’re leaned up against his truck. The sun had just started setting behind you, and Rafe would call this moment his safe space.

—

Rafe fumbles momentarily as he gets caught up in the past, clearing his throat before speaking again. “Um… well you dated him, didn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t call it that,” you mumble. “I know he wouldn’t.”

“Okay,” Rafe says, nodding his head. “Okay. But, I mean. Y/n/n, I saw you guys—you definitely had a thing.”

“Yeah, Rafe. A thing. Like, a stupid summer fling over five years ago,” you say. “I’ve seen him maybe three times since then.”

“Babe, I wasn’t—”

“I know, fuck, I’m sorry.”

The harsh exhale puts Rafe on high alert, and he’s searching for that pulse. “Don’t be sorry, sweetheart. I’m just—I wanna figure out why you’re…”

Your eyebrows pinch together. “Why I’m what?”

Rafe clucks his tongue, suddenly sitting up and surveying the area. “Nothing. Hey, do you think there’s another coffee shop we can stop at before we get there?”

“Yeah,” you nod, looking confused. “There’s one in town right before we go up the hill. Why?”

“Really gotta use the restroom,” Rafe lies, and you nod silently, not putting up a fight.

The drive is quiet from then on, and Rafe focuses on what he’s going to say next. But you’re nervous and he’s nervous but more than that he’s worried about you, and he can’t stop thinking about what you said to him last week. About there being boys before, boys who he knew hurt you and made you doubt your worth but not how or to what extent or even when—and you pull into a parking spot in the very back of some tiny, little parking lot in front of an unassuming coffee shop and Rafe makes no move to go inside. He waits for you to kill the engine and then gently takes the keys out of the ignition, dropping them in his lap.

“Rafe, what are you—”

“Theo was one of them, wasn’t he?”

I’ll kill him. That’s what Kelce had said that night.

“One of—what do you mean?” But you’re shrinking into your seat, angling your body away from Rafe’s accusation.

“When you said you’d dated those kinds of guys.”

The words hang awkwardly in the air between you. It was a topic neither of you had approached since the fight, Rafe waiting for you to bring it up of your own volition and you never doing so. He was always hesitant to push you on anything that made you this upset, but a lot of things were clicking like they hadn’t been before and now he just really needed to know.

“Am I wrong? You were talking about this guy we’re about to see at dinner tonight, weren’t you?”

One of your nails picks at the seem of the steering wheel, your hand shaking slightly. “Rafe, I really didn’t think he’d be here.”

“That’s not—I’m not upset about that, sweetheart. I’m not—I’m worried. About you,” he says, his voice falling into a hush. He licks his lips, gathering his thoughts while things start to slide into place for him. Theo was like a missing puzzle piece that had been right in front of him all along. Rafe had been there. “I’ve been trying to figure out all week why you’ve been so upset about this trip. And I thought it was me, but then you said it was all about your family, but you still… this was actually why though, wasn’t it?”

You suck your teeth at that, your head turning away slightly. “Okay. Maybe I thought there was a slight possibility we’d have to see him.”

Rafe nods, his ears ringing. You’ve been in shambles for an entire week because of an ex-boyfriend. “Okay. And… what?”

“What?”

Rafe tries not to let his frustration seep through, because he’s confident in himself and he’s confident in you, but as much as he knows this is putting your deepest insecurities out into the open, it’s putting a megawatt spotlight on his, the fact that he was hours away from meeting an ex-boyfriend that was apparently still well-enough into the fold to be invited to family dinners—by family Rafe had never even met—and Rafe knew literally nothing about him.

And on top of that, Theo had hurt you, and Rafe was there when it was happening, and not only was he too stupid at that age to tell you how he was feeling but you were hardly even friends at the time—Rafe couldn’t have protected you from it if he wanted to, because he had no idea what was even going on. And he still doesn’t. Because you never told him. “You didn’t tell me about him, because…”

“Because it’s so stupid, Rafe. It was so long ago and it shouldn’t even matter anymore,” you say, finally casting a sideways glance at him.

“But it does matter, clearly,” he urges, his hand reaching over to grip your elbow lightly. “And if it matters to you, then it matters to me.”

“Rafe… I really don’t wanna—”

“You gotta let me in, Y/n/n. I’m right here,” he says, the backs of his fingers dragging over your upper arm, a chunk of your knit sweater caught between his two middle finger knuckles. “I’m right here, baby.”

Your arm shies away from his touch and Rafe drops his hand, falling back into his seat in dejection while he listens. “We were kids. I liked him, and he liked me but not in the same way and we weren’t on the same page. And he went back to Massachusetts at the end of the summer and that was it. End of story.”

Rafe fingers the rental car keys where they sit in his lap, reminding you that he has the power to leave. “I could’ve deduced that version on my own, Y/n/n.”

“Okay, well, fucking deduce it then, Rafe,” you snap. “I don’t care.”

“I care.”

“Why? It was five years ago!” you say, holding your hands out for the keys.

He holds strong. “Then just tell me about him.”

Your hand falls back into your lap and you let out a frustrated groan. “Y’know what? Fine. I spent the entire summer following him around like a puppy and then he broke up with me—but according to him we weren’t ever really dating. And we never would be, because he needed someone serious who wasn’t destined to be some dumb southern belle housewife like me.”

“Y/n/n—what?”

“It was stupid, I thought we might’ve… I dunno. But he just didn’t see it like that at all and I don’t know why I even—that doesn’t matter. I should’ve seen it coming, it’s the same shit just coming from different people my entire life. The guys I dated before you were all the same, they had the same assumptions about me. The only difference was Theo didn’t want that version of me. It wasn’t good enough for him.”

Rafe feels like his brain just exploded—all of his nerves are on fire and his hands are clammy but on top of everything he’s just angry. He’s confused and he’s worried and he’s upset with himself for pushing you because your hands are shaking and the last half of your spiel was interspersed with stray tears, but above all else, he’s just fucking mad.

You let out a watery laugh and shake your head at his silence. “Not what you wanted to hear?”

You throw open the car door and slam it just as forcefully, and Rafe’s body follows yours before his mind can even tell it too. He grabs his jacket out of the backseat on his way because he saw you forget yours, and wraps it around your shoulders as they tremor.

There’s nobody around and even if there was he knows he wouldn’t care about how crazy the two of you must look, his arms locked around you and pressing you back against the car while you shake like a leaf against him, your hands grasping at his t-shirt.

“So, I guess that’s why Kelce wanted to kill this kid.”

He gets you to laugh a little, the feeling of the vibration against his chest warming him down to his toes even as he wears a t-shirt in the December chill. “M’honestly surprised he never told you any of this. I told him not to, but he knows everything.”

“I think Kelce is a better friend than either of us ever give him credit for,” Rafe admits. “I mean, I knew something went down with the two of you. But what a fucking tool.”

“Rafe.”

“No, I gotta get it out now. I probably can’t beat him up in front of your grandfather, can I?” Rafe sighs.

“Uh, absolutely not.”

“Okay,” he nods. “Piece of shit, numbskull fucking douchebag—”

“Rafe,” you warn again, laughing this time.

“Alright, alright. More coming later. I’ll think about them during dinner.”

“Y’know, Top said you’d wanna fight him.”

Rafe clears his throat, looking down at you, ignoring the goosebumps raised on his arms where they encase your shoulders. “Topper knew?”

“Might wanna rethink that comment about Kelce. I think we give him the exact amount of credit he deserves,” you say. Your elbows dig into his stomach as you wipe under your eyes, seeming to have cried yourself out for now.

Rafe would probably keep his comment about Kelce on the record. There are treasure troves of information his friend kept from you over the years. Shit that would embarrass Rafe to his once sixteen-year-old core.

“Is that why…” Rafe trails off, feeling his jaw clench. “Is Theo why you were having a rough time senior year?”

“Ugh,” you groan, your head falling into his chest. “This is so embarrassing. I knew you’d remember what a mess I was then.”

“Y/n/n.”

“Kind of,” you admit. “I don’t think it was him—just what he said. I was already unsure about what I wanted to do and the fact that he had my life planned out in his head just really threw me for a loop.”

“Do I even want to know the verbatim?”

“No,” you sigh. “Maybe once he’s no longer within hand-throwing distance.”

“Alright,” Rafe concedes.

“This is pathetic,” you murmur. “S’why I didn’t wanna tell you.”

“Hey,” he warns. “Who are you talking about? Him?”

“No. Me,” you correct. “I let it affect me so much, through some really big decisions, and he… Theo probably doesn’t even remember it the same way. I’m pretty sure he’s engaged.”

“You’re not pathetic,” Rafe says. He holds steady even when you roll your eyes at him. “I’m serious. If this guy was a dick to you, you’re allowed to be upset about it. Doesn’t matter when it happened or what you did after.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No, Y/n/n. No,” he says. “It doesn’t matter how you got there—you ended up exactly where you were supposed to anyway.”

With me. You ended up with me, he thinks.

“I did?”

“Of course. And you’re killing it, baby,” he says.

Your bottom lip pouts slightly, and Rafe has to lean down and kiss it. “I am?”

“You are.”

“Okay,” you nod, still not looking like you fully agree.

“Hey. Look at me for a second, and then we have to get back in the car before we freeze to death,” he says, holding your chin in between his thumb and forefinger. Your still slightly teary eyes blink up at him, and he can’t believe he has to sit through an entire dinner with the guy who did this to you without strangling him. “I know I don’t need to tell you that he was wrong. Because I know it, and you know it. That guy will know it one day, too. But you’re my best friend, you’re still the smartest person I know, and I don’t think I could do half the things I’m able to do without you. I’m never gonna stop protecting you, but when I can’t, I need to know that you know all of those things. And that I love you, and that you’re one thousand percent way too good for me. Too good for any of the fucking idiots that had you before me—but I’m not letting you go.”

Your eyes are wide, and you nod slowly. “I know.”

“I love you,” he repeats, pressing his lips into your hairline. “And I know it took a lot to tell me this, so thank you.”

“Y-you’re welcome?” you wonder, eyebrows furrowed. “Rafe I-I, I feel so bad. I should’ve told you earlier…”

Rafe shrugs, his shoulders twitching into a shiver. “You told me now. It’s alright.”

“You’re too good for me,” you counter, turning Rafe’s words on him.

“None of that,” he decides. “Now get back in the car. You look cute in my jacket, but I am not built for this weather.”

—

After an odyssey of coffees and tears and confessions and Death Cab for Cutie albums, you and Rafe finally pull into your grandparents’ driveway, the crunch of the gravel under your tires a familiar and almost foreboding sound.

“I didn’t know he was coming,” Rafe says. You can practically hear the smile in your boyfriend’s voice and it eases a little tension out of your body, and you’re able to give him a matching grin as you shrug.

“Might’ve slipped my mind to tell you,” you say coyly, pulling the car to a stop.

Dylan stands on the sprawling porch with Wilbur at his side, waving you over when the two of you get out of the car. “Ah, there’s the love birds. Finally.”

“Wilbur!” your boyfriend calls, kneeling when your dog trots up to him. You roll your eyes fondly at the display, turning back to the prying eyes of your little brother.

“How’d it go?”

You tilt your head in confusion, joining him on the porch, surveying the property. It’d been a while, but everything about your grandparents’ front yard looked exactly the same. “How’d what go?”

“Uh, the Theo bomb,” he says. You hit him in his stomach.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you? You called to tell me when you knew Rafe would ask about it,” you accuse.

“Of course I did,” he shrugs, rubbing at his stomach and wincing. “What? You weren’t gonna tell him. And Rafe’s my guy.”

“Oh, is he?” you laugh.

“He loves me. Ask him.”

“Well, thanks for the nudge, I guess,” you say, bumping your shoulder into his.

“How’d it go?” he asks, sipping out of his tumbler and looking at you over the rim, sunglasses pushed down his nose. You loved when he pretended he didn’t care about you.

“As expected,” you say, willingly skipping over your roadside breakdown in Rafe’s arms. “I’m not convinced he’ll keep his promise to not throw punches in the dining room.”

“I’ll hold him down,” Dylan says.

“Rafe?”

“No, Theo.”

“Dyl,” you scold, pushing his arm. “Stay out of trouble this weekend, will you?”

“I will be on my absolute worst behavior,” he says. “You know this. You’ve always known this.”

“Please, I’m already gonna be wrangling Rafe—”

“Okay, mom, chill the fuck out, will you?” he sighs. “Dad’s already at defcon one.”

“Oh no, really?”

“Really. But hey,” his voice drops in volume. “Theo’s engagement? Toast. I guess he didn’t get into law school and then he got a DUI or something, too. She called it off. I was told to tell you that we’re not supposed to bring it up in front of him or June and Jerry. But, I want you to know I’m absolutely going to. At least twice. I think three is overdoing it, no?”

You almost feel indifferent to Theo’s life update, you realize, looking at where Rafe is still playing with your dog by the car, the trunk now open but still not unloaded. You didn’t tell Rafe he was coming as a little surprise because you figured he’d be nervous to meet your family—you should’ve known he’d be calm and collected when you needed to lean on him. You’d be stupid to care about any past fling’s love life when this is what you have in your present. “Dylan, seriously. Reel it in for everyone’s sake tonight.”

“No promises.”

“Should we go inside?” Rafe says, out of breath and holding all of your luggage, your golden retriever circling him in excitement.

“You think you’re ready for that, Cameron?” Dylan teases. Rafe shoves the garment bag into his chest forcefully, causing him to scowl before leading the two of you inside. “Alright, you asked for it.”

“Is everyone else already here?” you inquire.

“Yeah, dinner’s in two hours,” he reminds you. “Greenhouse, don’t forget.”

You just laugh lightly and roll your eyes, which causes Rafe to look at you in confusion, his fingers encircling your wrist. “What happens at the greenhouse?”

Dylan laughs too, pushing the front door open. “You have so much to learn, my friend.”

“Dylan, leave him alone.”

—

Rafe is absolutely, positively shitting it.

One second, the two of you are upstairs freshening up for dinner together. The next, you’re nowhere in sight—although, it’s a big house and there’s probably at least ten more rooms he could’ve checked. And then he’s intercepted by your dad who has a look in his eye that Rafe has never seen (not even the first time he saw him after the break-up), who’s introducing him to your cousin EJ (who you like) and your uncles Zach and Charles (who you… don’t, Rafe thinks) and he maybe feels a little weird that he already knows all of their names, and knows that the baby strapped to EJ’s chest is called Kendra but everyone calls her Kenny and she has recently picked up a strawberry allergy.

“My daughter is in the kitchen with the rest of the ladies,” your dad says, catching Rafe looking around. “Come sit with us.”

“Oh, I should—”

“Wasn’t asking, son,” your dad whispers. “My father wants to talk to you.”

“Oh, cool,” Rafe says. “Cool.”

“You’re fine, kid.”

“Rafe,” Ellis says, looking at him appraisingly from across the table in his study. Rafe takes a seat immediately. “Is that short for something?”

“Uh, no, sir,” Rafe says. “It’s just Rafe.”

“And what did you say your last name was?”

“Cameron.”

“Ah, Cameron,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “Yes. That’s right, I remember your father from years and years ago. Ward? Good man.”

“Uh… yeah,” Rafe says, nodding slowly. That was definitely a new one. “Yeah, uh, thank you. That’s my dad.”

“Development, right? Is that good money?” Ellis asks. Dylan laughs into his whiskey glass, your cousin EJ just shakes his head, reaching down and giving Kenny a finger to grab onto. Rafe looks to your dad for help, who just stares straight ahead at his own glass, circling the rim with a pointer finger.

“We do fine,” Rafe finally says, hoping that will suffice. Ellis looks at him in determination.

“Now, don’t be modest, Rafe,” he demands. “It’s just a question. Simple, but important.”

“Alright, grandpa. Give it a rest,” EJ says, eyes cutting over to Rafe. Rafe nods in his general direction, not taking his eyes off of Ellis, who doesn’t seem to be done.

“If you intend to marry my granddaughter—”

“Dad.”

“It’s a serious question, William. I’m sure you haven’t even bothered to ask this of him yet—when they’ve been running around together for what, two years now?”

“Uh, well—year and a half,” Rafe mutters. “But, Y/n—she’s. We’ve talked about this and everything, but she’s doing great all on her own, with the foundation and—she doesn’t need—”

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” a voice says from the entry to your grandfather’s study, Rafe’s words dying on his lips as he turns to see who it belongs to.

“Oh, thank god. This was starting to bore me,” Dylan murmurs, tossing the rest of his glass back. He leans over into Rafe’s side. “Money’s on you, dude.”

“Theodore, my boy,” Ellis says. The hair on the back of Rafe’s neck stands up as he watches Theodore Caldecott swagger into the sitting room, bypassing everyone to exchange greetings with Ellis first. My boy. “So nice to have you out here again.”

“Not every day the whole family is back in town anymore, is it?” Theo says brushing his hands down the front of his sweater vest. “My mother insisted I come up from the city when she heard.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches as Dylan snorts, the sound catching your grandfather’s attention. “You remember my grandson Dylan, don’t you?”

“Of course, it’s nice to see you, buddy,” Theo says, leaning over the table to shake his hand. Dylan rejects him with a fist bump.

“‘Sup. Sorry about the engagement.”

“Mr. Y/l/n,” Theo continues to your father, undeterred. His eyes flicker to Rafe briefly, but he doesn’t say anything and neither does Rafe. “It’s nice to see you again as well. I was actually wondering if your daughter was around? I heard she’d be here today, but I have yet to run into her.”

Rafe sits up straighter in his seat, now demanding Theo’s attention at the mere mention of you. “She’s off with her cousins.”

Theo looks slightly taken aback at being addressed by him, his hands slipping into the pockets of his khakis as he leans back on the heels of his gaudy loafers. “I see. And you are…?”

Rafe stands to shake his hand also, holding back a smile when he realizes he still has a few inches—at least three—on this guy. He remembered that much from the first time they met in Kildare, clocking the guy's height when he wasn’t inspecting every part where the two of you were touching or worrying about how much you’d had to drink.

“Nice to meet you man,” he lies. “I’m Rafe. Y/n’s boyfriend.”

Rafe can see the moment his statement throws the other boy completely off guard. He gives him a tight-lipped smile and a firm handshake, noticing Theo’s grip is limp in his hand. “Oh, I didn’t know Y/n had a boyfriend.”

“You know it’s funny, Rafe,” Ellis speaks from the head of the table again. “For a while there, we thought Theo and Y/n might make a go of it.”

They did. Or she did. And he broke her heart over it, Rafe wants to say.

“Really?” he muses, raising his eyebrows. “Well. Sorry, man.”

Rafe isn’t sorry, not at all. He knows that, and he knows Theo knows that from the way that he said it, but the kid just smiles with a glint in his eye that Rafe decides he despises.

“No apologies are in order,” Theo says, laughing haughtily. “Ancient history, Y/n and I are. But hey—better keep an eye on her.”

If Rafe was sixteen years old again and not currently in front of half of your family, including a baby, he might’ve lunged over the table and laid Theo out right then and there. He knows he could—one sweep of Theo’s physique tells him that it’d be no problem for him, not then and not now. But instead, he sits back down and sips on a little more of his whiskey, hardening his stare at the other guy. “I always do.”

Your uncles continue bickering with your dad over the business after that, Dylan’s messing around on his phone, and EJ’s preoccupied with his baby, leaving Rafe to do nothing but stare across the table at how Ellis and Theo are getting along. Rafe knows you don’t hold your father’s side of the family very high in your head but it bothers him on a physical level, the way that Theo is laughing along with whatever your grandfather is saying, getting shoulder pats when all Rafe got was a firm handshake and a gruff ‘pleased to meet you’ before his questioning started.

“Hey.” EJ’s looking at Rafe from beside him, tilting his head toward the door. “Wanna help me feed Kendra?”

Babies terrify Rafe but he thinks he probably would’ve taken an offer from a grizzly bear if it meant escaping these four walls and his own thoughts, so he nods and follows behind EJ without a second thought. He might’ve thought it through just a millisecond longer, he realizes, once your cousin unclips the baby from the wrap on his chest and makes to hand her over to Rafe.

“Wait—I, I don’t think I’ve ever held an actual baby before,” Rafe admits. The closest was Beckham, who was four by the time Rafe first met him. “Y/n and I had strawberries for breakfast and we washed our hands a billion times—I just don’t wanna hurt her.”

“You won’t hurt her, and I’ll be right here to kick your ass if you do,” EJ says. “Just support her head. She’s not very fussy right now, you’ll be fine.”

“U—uh, yeah. Okay,” Rafe nods, accepting Kenny willingly when she’s carefully laid into his arms. She wriggles slightly, making Rafe panic for a second, before she settles into his arms and promptly falls back asleep. Rafe stares at her for a second, her chubby cheeks and her long lashes. “She’s… she’s so cute.”

“Isn’t she?” EJ says proudly, reaching over and adjusting the cap on her head. “You’re a natural, Rafe. She’s snoozin’, probably won’t wake up for an hour if you sit still.”

Rafe looks at the small bundle of warmth in his arms, notices the way she lets out a small coo and wriggles again, and thinks he could probably do that if asked. “Don’t we have to wake her up, though? Y’know, so she can eat?”

“Oh, she’s not hungry,” EJ says. “She won’t need to eat again for another two hours.”

Rafe looks up at him in confusion, his grip tightening on Kendra when he’s not looking at her, just in case. “But you said…”

“I lied. Welcome to the family,” your cousin laughs, sinking back into the couch. The fire crackles in front of them in the sitting room EJ had chosen. “Figured you could use an out.”

Rafe clears his throat and looks back down at Kendra, remembering how you said EJ was your favorite cousin. “That obvious, huh?”

“Nah, you’re fine,” EJ says. “I just know how my grandfather can be. And I’m biased, but I think my baby makes way better company.”

“I’d have to agree,” Rafe says softly, still looking at her, completely transfixed by this point.

There’s a soft patter of feet in the distance coming from the direction of the kitchen, followed by quick footsteps and a flash of hair the same color as EJ’s. “Daddy!”

“Oof,” EJ suddenly grunts, pulling the little boy that had just mowed into his shins into his lap. “Noah, can you say ‘hi’ to your Uncle Rafe?”

“Hi, Uncle Rafe,” Noah says. “I’m Noah.”

“Uncle?” you murmur quietly, coming and settling into Rafe’s side on the couch. From where you followed Noah into the room behind them, you must not have seen Rafe’s precious cargo, because you gasp quietly when you do see Kendra in his lap, your hand falling to a light touch on her head. “Well, hi there, Kenny.”

Rafe readjusts his hold on the baby again before tearing his eyes away from her to look at you, his cheeks going hot as he watches you coo quietly, your arms pressed together as you lean over him. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hey,” you say softly, pressing your lips into his for only a moment, the two of you very aware that your cousin and nephew are only a foot away. Your eyes flicker down Rafe’s entire body, the way he’s sitting completely still, hunched over Kendra with steady arms encircling her. “Look at you.”

“Look at me.”

“Ellis Jr., I can’t believe you got him to hold her,” you marvel, looking at your cousin.

“Didn’t give him much of a choice, but he’s doing fine, right?” EJ says, smiling at the trio. “You guys look great.”

You duck your head into Rafe’s neck at the insinuation, and Rafe’s right there with you with a fluttery feeling in his stomach. He presses a kiss into your hair. “I can’t see us, but I know we do, too.”

“Don’t give me any ideas, I swear, Cameron,” you murmur.

“Rafe did great in there,” EJ says, nodding back to your grandfather’s study. “Should’ve seen him.”

“I’m sure he did,” you say quietly, still leaned into Rafe’s space as you fawn over the baby in his lap. Rafe would bottle this feeling if he could.

“Caldecott kid was looking for you,” EJ mentions off-handedly, straightening out Noah’s shirt collar.

Rafe feels your body lock up where you’re still pressed into him. “Me? Wait, is he here already?”

“He’s here,” Rafe mentions quietly, the bottle-worthy feeling now a memory.

—

You and Rafe trail the rest of your older cousins in the tall grass as you all make your way out to the greenhouse, a pre-family dinner tradition for every cousin ever since they hit the age you’d deemed worthy to be included, seventeen. Rafe still doesn’t understand why you’re all out here but you keep your lips sealed on the subject, far too preoccupied with the fact that he saw Theo than anything else.

“Proud of you,” you joke, your fingers roaming over all of his knuckles as if to look for evidence.

“Very funny,” Rafe muses, tucking you under his arm. “You make me sound like an attack dog.”

“No,” you say. “I’m just kidding, Rafe.”

“It bothers me that he was looking for you,” Rafe admits. You pull him to a stop and he sighs, one hand digging into his pockets and the other scratching the back of his neck. “It bothers me a lot. I thought you guys weren’t on good terms.”

“We’re not,” you say. “We’re not on any terms, Rafe. I haven’t spoken to Theo in years.”

“I know that. But I don’t think he does, Y/n/n, he was—”

“Rafe.”

“I just need to know what you want from me here, Y/n,” Rafe says in a rush. “You know I wouldn’t even let him come near you if that’s what you wanted. And that’s what I want, but…”

Your lips quirk up a little bit. “You’re not jealous, Rafe Cameron. Are you?”

He doesn’t rise to the bait, and your heart sinks as he sighs in frustration, stepping closer to him and tugging on his hand. “I’m not jealous. I just hate that guy and I’m really worried about you, but I’m always gonna follow your lead.”

“You didn’t have any reason to hate him before a few hours ago.”

Rafe furrows his eyebrows. “I did, actually. But I just hate him more now.”

You nod in realization that all those years ago, even though you didn’t feel like Rafe was in your life, he was right there on the periphery. And he’d had that same protective streak ever since you’d known him; your heart could hardly handle the way he worried about his sisters, or any of your friends, let alone when you were the focus of that trait of his. But this weekend was bigger than the two of you and your three-month-long fling with Theodore Caldecott. “Rafe.”

“What?”

“My parents are already stressed, I know Dylan’s gonna be on one, and I just don’t think it’d help if you—”

“Got it,” Rafe sighs. “Best behavior.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” he promises. “I solemnly swear I will not kick Sweater Vest’s ass in front of your Grandma DeeDee tonight.”

You giggle, leaning up to lock your arms around his shoulders and kiss him. “My hero.”

“Cut that out.”

“You were quite the topic in the kitchen, you know. Grandma and Aunt Mel said you were very handsome, and EJ’s wife said they didn’t make them like you when she was my age.”

“Please don’t tell EJ that. I like him. And his baby,” Rafe admits. “Can we finally find out what this greenhouse is about?”

Rafe goes to open the door but you stop him with a hand to his chest. “There’s a way to do this.”

You ignore his quirked eyebrow to knock on the door in the correct pattern. The door immediately cracks open and Dylan’s head pops out. “Password?”

“Dylan, come on.”

“Password,” he insists. “We’re keeping shit tight this year, Dale already tried to sneak in.”

You roll your eyes. “Grapefruit.”

“You may enter,” Dylan decides, opening the door wide enough for the two of you to step through.

Grandma DeeDee’s greenhouse was by far your favorite place on the entire property, ever since you were a child. You, EJ, and his sister Tiffany used to follow behind her like lost puppies, helping her tend to all of her plants. EJ eventually got pulled out of the rotation, your grandfather telling him it was time he started shadowing him instead, or playing a sport, or just something that wasn’t so… feminine. So it was just you, Tiffany, and your grandmother after that, and it was where your love for taking care of plants even came from in the first place. It was the one thing you missed the most about coming up here.

But part of why you missed it—you had to admit—was the pre-dinner tradition started by EJ and Tiffany, the two eldest cousins, years and years ago. It was the only place they could think of to sneak booze at family gatherings before being of age, slowly folding in the younger cousins as they grew up.

As of now, it was you Rafe, EJ, Tiffany, who brought her girlfriend, Penny, this time around, Dylan, and your Uncle Zach’s son, Michael. Dale and Ingrid were still too young.

You’d been slightly worried Theo might wander his way out here, like he had a few times before. You distinctly remember the year you were so excited to finally go to the greenhouse. Theo joined the festivities before Thanksgiving dinner your senior year of high school and he brought his new girlfriend. You took three shots in a row.

EJ took one look at you and told Tiffany to help you get upstairs undetected, not wanting to send you to dinner like that. He told everyone you weren’t feeling well before coming upstairs to find Tiffany holding you in her arms while you cried.

“Rafe, give me a boost,” you direct, shaking the memory from your head. “I think there should be something stowed at the back of the top shelf.”

“Uh, yeah,” Rafe says, hurrying to bend at the knee, hands outstretched for you. “What exactly are you looking for?”

“Get up, kid,” EJ laughs. “I figured it was time we upgraded from the bottle of gold-flecked vodka we’ve been sipping off of for years.”

He brandishes a new bottle of 1942 from under his coat, Dylan whooping and Tiffany humming in approval.

“Blegh,” Michael says.

“Shut up, Mike,” Dylan says. “You turned seventeen last week, you honestly shouldn’t even be—”

“And we have reason to celebrate tonight,” EJ continues, ignoring both of them. “Because Y/n and Dylan finally made it back and we have two new souls brave enough to face Grandpa Ellis and all of his charms. Rafe and Penny, good fucking luck.”

You and Tiffany both boo EJ for scaring your respective partners (even though he, as the sole married cousin, has the most expertise) but Rafe and Penny just take it all in stride, looping their arms before taking their tequila shots. You stand beside Tiffany, sharing in a feeling of fondness as you watch the two of them settle into the hectic dynamic. A full round is poured and passed around; Rafe cackles at your face as you down your shot, but he has your water bottle ready for you to get the taste out of your mouth as it pinches in disgust.

“Fuckin’ hate tequila,” you whine.

“I know, baby,” Rafe laughs.

“Grow up,” Dylan jeers, already pouring a second round.

Rafe cut himself off after his inaugural shot, but you take one more and are feeling a little buzz as you show him around the greenhouse, pointing at your favorite plants. Rafe nods along eagerly the entire time, a hand on your waist to steady you on the slippery floors. “It’s so humid at home, we should really look into getting some ferns or something.”

“Mm,” Rafe hums, fingers trailing over the plant in question, his touch gentle. “Don’t you think we have enough plants?”

“Absolutely no such thing, RC,” you say.

“Okay, you are cut off at dinner tonight,” Rafe laughs, yanking you right into his chest. “Haven’t even sat down to eat and you’re already calling me RC.”

“Boring,” you tease, struggling in his grip. His fingers dig into your waist, and you remain rooted to your spot. “If you’re gonna make me sober up, I have to tell you something before I lose my confidence.”

“Jesus Christ, what are we, sixteen? You had two shots,” Rafe teases, arms locked around your waist. “Out with it, lightweight. Are you gonna confess your undying love?”

“Haven’t I done that already?”

“Still like hearing it,” he shrugs.

“Alright. I’m in love with you,” you say, watching Rafe’s eyes glaze over in that way that they tend to do sometimes, when you can tell he’s all loved-up. It’s easy for you to tell because you’re usually right there with him. “You’re incredibly easy.”

“Only for you.”

“I really liked seeing you with Kendra,” you blurt. Rafe’s huge grin falls slightly, settling into something softer—a little embarrassed, the tips of his ears turning red and matching the blush blooming on his cheeks. “That’s all.”

“I liked—I liked being with you, and Kendra. A baby,” he admits softly. “So…”

“So.”

“Good. Same page,” Rafe nods. “C’mere. Let me mack on you before I have to sit at a table with your entire family like we didn’t just talk about babies.”

—

Rafe knew the bubble had to burst eventually—knew as much as he wanted to that the two of you couldn’t stay out in the greenhouse forever, soaking up the company of the family you did like. Knew that the two of you had to face the music eventually, knew that he couldn’t just wrap you up in his arms and take you upstairs and listen to more stories about your childhood spent here or tell you how many kids he wanted while he pets your hair and kisses your face and protects you from everything he possibly can.

And he knew Theodore Caldecott was the worst of the worst because anybody who can hurt you like he did has to be. But the absolute gall he possessed had come as a bit of a shock.

“Y/n, it’s wonderful to see you again,” Theo says. Rafe watches his eyes inspect your entire body like he isn’t standing right next to you, clutching your hand—like this isn’t a family affair. “You look… wow. It’s been a while.”

“It has,” you agree quickly. “You’ve met my boyfriend, Rafe, haven’t you?”

Rafe gives him a nod and Theo doesn’t return it, barely taking his eyes off of you for a second. “I have. Been looking all over for you tonight—I’m just dying to catch up.”

“Oh,” you say, your hand twitching in Rafe’s grasp. “Um…”

“We can all catch up at dinner,” Rafe says. His hand slips to the small of your back, nudging you toward the dining room and out of Theo’s line of sight.

But as fate would have it, Rafe takes the seat beside you just as Theo practically slithers into the one across from the two of you. Rafe sees to it that the end of the table with all of the real adults is fully occupied in whatever chatter before his hand grips the bottom of your chair, tugging you as close as possible before his lips drop to your ear. “We agree that the sweater vest is horrible, right?”

“Rafe, stop,” you admonish, still giggling despite yourself while pushing him away by his chest.

“What was that?” Theo asks, leaning over the table.

“Nothing,” Rafe says, scooting your chair a respectable distance away again, keeping his hand locked firmly on your knee, fingers nudged under the napkin covering your lap.

“Y/n,” the woman seated beside Theo says. Her eyes sweep to Rafe, the look in her eyes reminding Rafe a little too much of one he’d get from his father. “Who's this you have with you?”

Your fork clatters to your plate, your free hand slipping to Rafe’s shoulder. “Oh, June. I’m so sorry, this is—”

“That’s her friend, Rafe, mom,” Theo interrupts.

“Boyfriend,” Rafe corrects, narrowing his eyes slightly. Your hand tenses on his shoulder and he clears his throat. “It’s nice to meet you.”

June’s eyebrows raise, her confused stare matching the man’s next to her, who Rafe deduces must be Theo’s father. “Boyfriend? Y/n, your grandfather never mentioned that you were seeing someone.”

“Yes, um,” you start. “We’ve been together for a while now.”

“Hm. How did you two meet? Surely your mother set the two of you up,” she laughs lightly. Rafe looks down at you, his eyes searching.

“D’you wanna tell it?”

You nod, smiling small, just for him. “Yeah. So, we—”

“Must’ve met at school, right?” Theo asks. If he interrupts you one more time, Rafe might not be able to control any kicks under the table.

“No,” you continue, looking back to Rafe. “It’s funny, actually. We’ve been friends since we were kids, but we didn’t actually get together until last summer.”

“You’re from the Outer Banks?” June accuses.

“Uh, yes, ma’am,” Rafe answers. “Born and raised, just like Y/n/n.”

“Huh,” she nods. “Interesting. And what exactly is it that you do?”

Rafe covers a scoff with a sip of wine, looking to you for guidance. Theo and his mother continue to watch the pair of you like hawks, and you just shrug, as if to tell him go ahead. “My father has a real estate development company. I’m helping run finances.”

“Oh. Money guy,” June says, waving a perfectly manicured hand around, looking at you now. “Now I get it.”

“I’m sorry?” Rafe says in confusion. You don’t meet June’s gaze, staring at the table cloth instead. Your hand slips from Rafe’s shoulder and he watches you fiddle with your flatware set, half of your food uneaten.

“Well, it’s just—you know. Last I heard, Y/n was still babysitting for a living,” she chuckles, gesturing toward Rafe again. “So, I mean. Development, finance, it’s lucrative. That makes sense to me, for someone of her caliber.”

Rafe pauses mid-chew, nearly dropping his fork to his plate loud enough to interrupt the entire room. You’ve gone completely quiet beside him, the only point of contact he has with you his touch on your knee where it shakes under the table. Rafe looks to see if anyone around him heard how this woman, this woman he doesn’t even know, just spoke to you—to see if anyone will come to your defense. Everyone seems to be preoccupied but the two of you and the Caldecotts. “I—I don’t know what you mean…”

“What a charming southern gentleman you are, Rafe,” the woman smiles, her tone dripping in condescension. “It’s alright, I’m sure it’s nothing Y/n hasn’t heard before. We can dare to be realistic here.”

It’s not, Rafe thinks. It’s not alright and it’s not nothing you haven’t heard before. It’s something you’ve heard from everyone around you, for nearly your entire life. It’s the same sentiment planted in your head by your parents when you were a girl, tended to over time by guys like Theo and your other ex, Frederick, and apparently their horrible parents, too.

A soft nudge to his shin from under the table interrupts that line of thought, however, Dylan glaring at Rafe from across the table. He raises his eyebrows in expectation.

“Actually,” Rafe says a little loudly, his fork falling from his hand. He’s like a rope about to snap and he figures Dylan’s permission is all he needs at this moment. He drapes an arm over the back of your chair and you look at him in panic, shaking your head. Rafe will apologize to you later if he has to, but he can’t sit here and mind his Ps and Qs anymore. “Y/n’s kicking ass right now. She’s working in publishing and editorial, so she could go wherever she wants from here. Her boss said an acquisition editor at her publishing house is actually retiring soon, and the spot is practically Y/n’s as soon as she wants it.”

Rafe had been looking at you the entire time he was speaking, but he turns to look at Theo and his mother momentarily, feeling a small sense of satisfaction—alright, maybe not that small—at the dumbstruck look on both of their faces.

“Y/n works extremely hard. She’d be fine on her own, completely fine,” Rafe emphasizes, looking back down at you. He wants you to hear these words just as much as he wants them to, probably more. “But somehow, I got lucky enough to convince her I’m worth the time of day.”

Theo and his mother are silent after that but Rafe hardly cares, isn’t paying attention to anyone but you. The way your mouth gapes as you gaze up at him.

“Publishing?” Theo finally says. “That’s great, Y/n. You never… you never told me anything about that.”

“Very promising,” June agrees, visibly sizing you up with a gleam in her eye. “Congratulations.”

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I like it a lot, so.”

“Y/n/n,” EJ interrupts from the other end of the table, wiping Rafe’s encouragement for you to stop being so humble right off of his lips. He’d tell you later; he’ll never grow tired of praising you alone or in front of an audience. “You’re up. It’s your turn to go get more wine.”

“I can go,” Rafe immediately offers, but your cousin shuts him down.

“Rafe’s a guest. Y/n, go,” he says.

You sigh but nod, standing from the table. You start to make your way out of the room but stop mid-step, leaning over the back of Rafe’s chair, your hands on his shoulders and your lips pressed to his cheek in a quick peck. Your lips move to his ear and Rafe feels goosebumps bloom all the way down his arms, his shirt collar suddenly feeling unbearably tight. “My hero.”

Rafe’s sure nobody could hear it besides him but Dylan still gags at the display, and Rafe catches a Theo eye roll before craning his neck to watch you leave the room with a smile, shaking his head and hiding a grin as his chin tucks to his chest. The victorious feeling quickly leaves his body as June continues watching him curiously.

“Theodore,” she speaks, a smile spreading on her face. “We’re hardly guests here. Why don’t you go see if Y/n needs help in the wine cellar?”

—

Normally, you hate the walk down to the wine cellar in your grandparents’ house. The corridors are long, it’s usually pretty chilly down there—more often than not you forced Dylan to go in your place. He never brought back the right wine and it usually caused a headache but you didn’t mind, as long as you didn’t have to go yourself.

This time, however, you don’t particularly mind the trip. That dining room was beginning to suffocate you, and you might’ve jumped Rafe’s bones if you were in his vicinity any longer after that display. Thinking back to Rafe defending you to June brings an embarrassing heat to your cheeks, your hand covering your smile even though nobody is around to tease you for it. If you could tear your eyes away from your lover for even a second, you would’ve killed to see the look on Theo’s mom’s face.

Footsteps echo in the doorway of the cobblestone cellar, and your smile grows as you realize Rafe had followed you down.

“Was wondering if you’d find a way to sneak down here anyway,” you say, not turning around as you continue to survey your grandfather’s extensive collection.

“Not sure what the little boyfriend would think of that insinuation, Y/n.”

You turn around so fast you nearly make your neck ache, your eyes landing on Theo, not your boyfriend.

It’s strange—the few times you’d seen Theo since that summer had at their worst brought you to tears and at their best still stirred up a deep-rooted anxiety. But this time you felt next to nothing but a little annoyance. Theo was being Theo, but you weren’t bothered by it because your boyfriend was slotting in perfectly with your cousins, he was holding your niece with hands more careful than you’d ever seen, he was roughhousing with your brother and kneeling in the gravel to play with your dog. Rafe stood tall against the Caldecotts’ jabs toward him and even taller against the ones toward you.

A summer fling that broke your seventeen-year-old heart was nothing more than a slight irritation—a mosquito buzzing around you, Rafe readily batting it away.

“Theo, I’m sorry. Thought you were Rafe for a second. My mistake,” you apologize.

“Figured,” Theo smiles, that big toothy grin. “Could you use some help?”

“It’s just a bottle. I’m fine,” you tell him, returning to the rows of wine.

“Ah, come on, Y/n/n.” You flinch at the nickname only your loved ones call you—it feels wrong falling off of his lips. “You know this crew could put a vineyard out of business.”

“You’re free to grab one, too,” you compromise. “I’m gonna grab a white if you wanna pick out a red.”

“You were crazy for chardonnay back in the day, weren’t you?” Theo asks, sidling up to you. He’s a little close for comfort and you lean out of his space, pretending to look at a different row of wines.

“Chard’s too dry. S’fine, but not my favorite,” you conclude. “More into rieslings, always have been.”

“Ah, of course. A sweet wine for a sweet girl,” Theo says fondly. You remain silent at his compliment but that only emboldens him. “You know, I dropped everything in the city and drove right over when I heard you were coming up this weekend.”

Your hand falters where it was feeling over a label, and you turn to look at him slowly. He’s leaned up against a pillar with his arms crossed over his chest, and you realize he’s blocking your path to the doorway. “Why would you do that?”

“Don’t seem so surprised,” he laughs. "You don’t think I came all the way out here just to see Grandpa Ellis, did you?”

“No, it’s just… well. We haven’t spoken in, god—two, three years?” your mind races, trying to remember. Trying to piece together what your ex-boyfriend-who-never-called-himself-your-boyfriend is even getting at.

“Has it been that long?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed. He shakes his head after a second. “Well, nevertheless. I dunno, guess I missed you.”

“Well—hey, um. I heard about your engagement, Theo,” you say, going for a subject change and blurting the first thing that came to mind. He recoils visibly, gnawing on his bottom lip and raising his eyebrows at a spot on the floor. “I really am sorry. I’m sure that can’t be easy.”

“Thank you for saying that,” Theo says, his stare heavy when he returns his gaze to you. You almost feel bad for him; a part of you might always care for the boy you used to be friends with before he turned into the teenager that broke your heart and the man he is now. “Was for the best in the end, I think.”

You don’t like the way Theo’s looking at you, or the way his tone echos how he used to speak to you once so you turn back to the task at hand, settling on a random bottle. “I think this one’s fine. If you wanna pick a bottle we can head back up to dinner.”

“They won’t miss us,” Theo says, pushing off the pillar and walking to the side of the cellar lined with pinot noirs and cabernets. “So, didn’t think nouveau-riche was really your type, Y/n.”

“What?” you ask, your mouth going dry.

“Development, seriously? He’s practically blue-collar,” Theo muses, chuckling to himself even though nothing he just said was funny.

“Are you—do you mean Rafe?”

“Yes, I mean Rafe,” he parrots, saying his name like it tastes like acid in his mouth. “Sure your parents love this little rebellion streak you’ve got going. When do you think you’ll settle down with someone serious?”

“Respectfully, Theo, don’t talk about my boyfriend like that,” you bite out, gripping your selected bottle tightly and making a break for the door. “I’ll see you back up there.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he rushes, blocking your path again. “I didn’t—fuck, Y/n. I’ve never known how to talk when it comes to you.”

“What exactly is there to talk about?”

Theo lets out a laugh, hands shoved into his pockets. “After all this time, you still make me nervous.”

“Theo,” you speak slowly, confusion settling in for good. “What are you—”

“You know, I hated the way we left things all of those years ago,” Theo admits, stealing the air from your lungs as he actually goes there. Not once since that summer had he even acknowledged that the two of you were anything romantic, not in front of anyone else and not when you were alone. And here he was, five years and a failed engagement later. “I was a stupid kid, Y/n.”

You wince in realization. “You’re not serious, Theo… you mean when we—”

“When we were in love,” Theo interrupts, stepping slightly closer. “God. Saying it like it’s past tense makes it seem so sad, doesn’t it?”

“Theo, that’s… still past tense for me. I haven’t even—we were kids, like you just said,” you say.

“But I never apologized to you for that, Y/n,” he speaks softly. “You know, I can still picture that day I left the Outer Banks. You were wearing that pink sweater.”

You weren’t wearing a pink sweater. You weren’t wearing a sweater at all—it was summer in North Carolina, your daily uniform was a sundress or cut-off shorts. The dress you wore that night wasn’t pink either. It was white. You spent thirty minutes picking out what you thought would be the dress you wore when Theo asked you to make it official.

“Ancient history, Theo,” you say, voice wavering slightly against your will with the weight of the recalled memory.

“Is it, though? Don’t tell me that you’ve never thought about trying things again, now that we’re older,” Theo probes.

You nearly gawk at him, wondering if he hit his head on the way down the stairs. “No, considering my boyfriend is literally sitting down the hall right now. And we’re only here because we were taking a weekend trip together. From which, we’ll go home to our house, that we live in together.”

Theo laughs again, but it’s not friendly. He’s laughing at you. Five-year-old memories slowly unearth themselves in your mind, the way he’s talking down to you feeling uncomfortably familiar. Except for this time, he’s telling you the complete opposite of what he did then. And it’s still not what you want to hear. “You know you’re only wasting your time playing house with a guy like that. Now that I think about it, I remember seeing that kid around, always hanging with those two other idiots. God, what even were their names—”

“Those idiots are my friends,” you warn.

Theo raises his hands in surrender, still smiling fondly like he knows a secret you don’t.

“You’ve changed a lot since we were kids, Y/n,” he says.

“And you’re still an asshole,” you spit. “Who do you think you are, Theo? You walked out on us, not me.”

“I was a stupid kid, Y/n. Please,” he rolls his eyes.

“I was a kid, too, Theo. And you still ripped my heart out because you thought I wasn’t… good enough for you? You had this whole picture of me—”

“Was I wrong?” he gestures wildly. “Aren’t you right back in your hometown, with that arm candy you have sitting out there? Surprised he hasn’t tried to knock you up yet, and I don’t see a ring on that finger.”

“Stop fucking interrupting me. And stop talking about Rafe,” you warn, the hand not holding the wine bottle now poking a finger into his chest. He tries to grab your hand and you yank it away.

“You know you don’t have to settle for that guy, Y/n,” Theo says, almost sounding like he’s begging at this point. “We, on the other hand, would be great together.”

“This isn’t happening,” you say, hand clutching your forehead like you have to be crazy. “You’re not actually saying this to me right now.”

“You can’t honestly believe that your little high school sweetheart can give you everything you expect,” Theo says in exasperation. “This should be easy Y/n, I mean. He’s got you trapped in that podunk lagoon—where are the opportunities for you? I have so many connections I could—”

Everything slowly starts to slide into place and the end of his sentence tapers off in your ears. “Is that—so that’s what this is? I went and made something of myself, and after all this time I’m finally worthy of you? Literally fuck you, Theo.”

“You wound me, love,” Theo says. His cocky smile slips into one that’s a bit softer, but you can still see right through his brown eyes, even after all of these years. “You’re feistier now, what happened to my sweet girl?”

“You broke my heart,” you whisper. “You broke my heart, and then I grew up.”

“Y/n, don’t you see?” he whispers back, stepping closer to you. His hand reaches toward your face and you take a huge step back, your back bumping into the cold wall of the back of the wine cellar, holding the bottle in between the two of you like a barrier. “It’s always been you, love.”

“This is all I wanted to hear from you five years ago in that guest house, you know that?” you whisper, searching his face for any sign of sincerity. He could fool you back then but he can’t fool you now. You let Rafe into your heart a summer ago and you’d only known true love since then. It was deeper and it was more real than anything you ever thought Theo had made you feel. “But I’m glad I didn’t. Because giving you a chance would’ve been the worst mistake of my life. I’d be miserable, for one. And I wouldn’t have Rafe.”

“Dammit, Y/n,” he swears. “Your grandfather loves me, Y/n. He’d love us together.”

Theo’s not smart enough to get into law school but he shouldn’t be stupid enough to think your grandfather would love anything about you being a career woman any more than your mother would—some status symbol Theo and his family seemed to desperately cling too. Some mold that he and June thought you could finally fit into, seeing something in you tonight that they hadn’t before. Your dad had passed on the family business and Grandpa Ellis skipped right over Aunt Mel, letting Uncle Zach and Charles duke it out.

“Theo, I loved us together. Five years ago, and then you—you know what, I don’t have to explain myself to you. Get out of my way.”

You push Theo out of your way and he stumbles backward immediately, clearing your path to the doorway and causing you to sigh in relief. You’re almost home free but something inside you causes you to turn around, for that teenage girl inside you that would’ve died to hear these words years ago—who didn’t realize she had everything she could’ve wanted right in front of her already and was throwing her heart around to anything that would catch it so she didn’t have to face the truth. “And for the record, I’m not settling for Rafe. Rafe has always been it for me, Theo.”

“Don’t be dumb, Y/n—”

“Thought I wasn’t dumb. Remember?” you say coldly, throwing his words back at him. But of course nothing you say even registers; you were nothing but a blip on his radar and he was once a villain in your life story.

“What are you even talking about, Y/n?”

“I tried to play this nicely with you, I really did,” you say shakily, feeling the anger turning into hot tears behind your eyes because how dare he. How dare he act like he’s been harboring this grand love from you when he had a girlfriend three months after he let you go, while you spent months crying on Kelce and Margot and trying to work through what he put you through. When he was off getting engaged while you were fighting with Rafe because of feelings Theo was the first one to ever make you feel. When he was standing here lying to your face about how much you meant to him, that desperate to cling to something that would make him look good because he couldn’t do that for himself. “But you’re fucking pathetic. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

You turn to leave again but not even a second later an iron grip encircles your wrist and you’re pulled harshly back into the room. “Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you, Y/n. I just wanna—”

The tears break your waterline at the feeling, and they blur your vision where you look up at him, not recognizing the boy before you at all anymore as your arm struggles against his grip. He’s desperate, grasping at this past relationship that never really existed in the same way in his mind. But he knows how it existed in yours, and his life didn’t turn out how he thought it would and now he’s taking advantage of your heart then and trying to take advantage of your heart now. “Theo, get off, y-you’re hurting me.”

You think you begin to see some semblance of remorse flicker in his eyes, his grip loosening slightly, but it’s all a blur because another body is ripping his touch from your completely, a tall figure pushing Theo back and away from you until he’s not even breathing the same air, his back pressed into the wall like yours had been only minutes ago.

“I swear to god, I ever see you put your fucking hands on her again—”

“Oh, you’ll what, tough guy?”

Rafe practically growls, the arm he has shoved across Theo’s collarbones pressing in harder. “I will kick your ass back to the fucking city.”

“Aw, not in front of dear Grandma DeeDee, Rafe,” Theo taunts, right back to his usual snide self.

“I don’t care who’s around, you prick,” your boyfriend mutters. “You don’t. Fucking. Touch her.”

You realize then you need to spring into action before this escalates any further, testosterone absolutely raging in this room. Your feet move you forward and you grab onto Rafe’s shirt sleeve, tugging on his free hand. “Rafe, don’t—”

Theo shifts his focus back to you, smirking again, that lost and vulnerable boy completely gone. “Let the men talk, sweet—”

“No. You don’t talk to her like that, you don’t talk to her ever,” Rafe protests, leaving no room for disagreement with the way he has Theo pinned. “Don’t call her anything. Don’t even look at her. I mean it, you fucking rat. You even breathe in her direction and I will make you so fucking sorry you ever stepped foot on my island in the first place, got it?”

Theo feigns amusement but you see the way he actively struggles against Rafe’s arm, your boyfriend’s tricep flexing where he’d rolled up the sleeve of the nice white shirt you’d picked for him tonight. “Oh, come on—”

“Got it?” Rafe repeats, leaning into him further. “Good.”

“You’re messing with years of history here, Rafe,” Theo goads. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“I do, actually,” Rafe says.

“Well then I’m sure Y/n here gave you the dramatic version of whatever happened between us,” he says, looking over at you once again. Rafe follows his eyes and steps to the side, blocking you from his line of sight. “I remember your neighborhood having an affinity for gossip.”

“My girlfriend doesn’t really tend to lie. Or speak badly of people who don’t deserve it, so,” Rafe says definitively.

“Right, my mistake.”

Your boyfriend scoffs in his face, laughing like he doesn’t even deserve the time of day. And he doesn’t—which reminds you that you should probably be trying to tug Rafe away, but you’re frozen to the spot watching the exchange, still clutching your bottle of wine. “You’re—yeah. You’re right, your mistake. Your mistake ever treating her like that, or ever letting her go.”

“Well that worked out for you, though, didn’t it?”

“This isn’t about me,” Rafe growls, pushing into him again. “I know I don’t deserve her, but it’s not because I think I’m better than her. It’s actually the opposite, and I’ll be damned if I ever pull something as stupid as you did because I’m too much of a fucking idiot to realize how lucky I am. She makes me better. And she would’ve made you better too. But you don’t get to try again just because she proved you wrong.”

Theo has the wherewithal to appear sheepish at that, and you turn away as their voices quiet. “Guess I was wrong about her, huh?”

“Dead wrong,” Rafe agrees. “Dead fucking wrong. If you somehow don’t end up alone for the rest of your sorry life, I’m seriously praying for whoever has to put up with you. But it won’t be my girlfriend.”

Theo’s last wise-crack is lost on you because suddenly Rafe is letting him off the wall and then he’s all-encompassing, arms around you guiding and pulling you out of the room, whisking you away with a soft but firm touch that your body still welcomes even in its state of shock after everything that just occurred. “Rafe, I—he—you—”

“I know, baby, hold on,” he says, leading you further and further away until he’s pushing open a side door and leading you outside. His tone had gone completely soft again.

“But, wait. The dinner, Rafe—”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Rafe,” you say, the panic returning to your body, picturing your parents awkwardly explaining where the three of you have gone, fielding accusations from Grandpa Ellis who will only turn it into some thing about how misbehaved your dad’s kids are. “We can’t just leave.”

“Everyone moved on to dessert in the parlor, Y/n,” he explains, finally facing you in the glow of a crackling outdoor fire pit on one of the side patios. “Nobody’s gonna notice we’re even gone, alright? You’re fine, sweetheart. I promise. Now, will you let me look at you?”

Rafe doesn’t await confirmation as he cups your face in his hands, turning you to-and-fro, eyes appraising. His hands fall to your shoulders, brushing along your neck and then sliding down your arms, where he goes for your right arm, gently holding your wrist. You realize a beat late that he’s checking you for injuries. “Rafe, he didn’t—he was just holding my arm.”

“God fucking dammit,” Rafe bites out, scrubbing a hand over his face, fingers carding through his hair and mussing up his once-gelled strands. “I knew I should’ve followed him down there. If I ever see that kid again, I swear to god I—”

You’ve nearly tuned out Rafe’s irateness, studying the wine bottle you’re somehow still holding in your hand instead. When you went to get it, you were so happy and now you were a mess, mind racing with thoughts you thought you’d quieted over the years. You fail to notice Rafe had cut his rant short, going quiet as he simply watched you. He slowly tugs the bottle out of your hand, resting it on the outdoor settee in front of the fire.

“Are you okay?”

You furrow your eyebrows, which forces more tears out of your eyes—you hadn’t stopped crying. “What? I just told you… I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me.”

“No,” he shakes his head. His thumb wipes away some tears but it’s useless because they’re practically relentless at this point, flowing rapidly of their own will. “I don’t mean just that, Y/n/n. You’re crying—you were down there for so long… what did he say to you, sweet girl?”

It’s the nickname that causes the first sob to break in your chest, hearing it right after Theo had asked where his sweet girl had gone. You weren’t his anymore, and you hardly even were to begin with, but somehow you still let him get to you after all of these years.

“Rafe, i-it, I—”

Rafe slowly pulls you into his chest as you go temporarily speechless with your cries, pressing his lips to your hair for a long moment. “Tell me everything.”

—

In front of the fire and wrapped up in his arms, Rafe finally coaxes the entire Theo story out of you. Start to finish, summer to fall. It’s long-winded because he has to drag admissions out of you and simply wait you out when things get hard, but Rafe’s grateful because if he has even a millisecond to let his mind wander, he’d find himself busy scouring the entire property for the boy that thinks he gets to throw your heart away and then go looking for it again. Thinks he can put his hands on you, on any girl, when he thinks nobody is around to see. Like Rafe hadn’t been anxiously and impatiently waiting at the table until EJ finally caught on and then threw him a bone, announcing to the table he’d send Rafe to check on you so he wasn’t causing any eyebrows to raise at his untimely exit. The scene he saw in the wine cellar haunts him even though he swears he blacked out as soon as he heard ‘you’re hurting me’ from just down the hall. Rafe could kill him.

“I could kill him.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t,” you say, and Rafe loves that after everything he got a smile out of you without even trying. You could smile if you thought it was a joke but Rafe meant every word. “Your island, huh?”

Rafe blushes at words hurled in the heat of the moment. “As long as you’re on it.”

“Hey, thank—”

“Y/n Y/m/n,” he interrupts. “I know you’re not about to thank me for that.”

You purse your lips and shrug, Rafe admiring the now dry skin on your cheeks where they glow in the fire. “Whatever.”

“Whatever,” he mocks. “But I’m sorry you had to see all that.”

“It was fine, honestly,” you say. “You don’t scare me, you know?”

“I used to though, didn’t I?” he asks quietly.

You tilt your head in confusion. “What—when you used to get in those little fights in high school?”

Rafe winces, nodding nonetheless. “Yeah. Thought you didn’t like that.”

“I didn’t. I was scared you’d get hurt or something. But you’ve never scared me, ever,” you emphasize. “Not like that anyway.”

“Like what then?” he presses.

“Rafe,” you groan. “We’ve been heart-to-hearting all day, give me a break. I beg.”

“Humor me. I deserve a reward for not punching that guy.”

“You know what I’m talking about,” you accuse, tucking your face into his shirt. “I don’t think I would’ve let a guy like Theo have a hold on me like that if I didn’t see him as a one-way ticket out of my feelings for you.”

Regret overwhelms Rafe, even though he knows in his bones he was never ready to love you back then. He doubts himself from time to time these days, but he knows he’s come a long way from the stupid seventeen-year-old kid who was still kind of a jerk, who had absolutely no business handling a heart like yours.

“Should’ve just told you I liked you when I knew,” he confesses anyway. “Maybe I could’ve saved you from all this bullshit.”

“When did you know?” you wonder softly, your eyes searching in a way that makes Rafe feel like you’re inspecting his soul.

“Uh…” he trails off. “Well, I really missed you that summer, Y/n/n. A lot, and I don’t think I knew it then but it wasn’t just like, a friend thing. But then you weren’t you anymore, at least for a bit.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “I get it. I don’t think I would’ve liked me either back then.”

“No,” Rafe blurts, because you’re misunderstanding him completely. “No, I mean. I missed you still. Because you were back but you weren’t. And then the shirt thing happened and I was just a complete fucking goner. Knew I loved you at prom, though.”

“Shirt thing?”

“You wore my shirt to my state game, and you had my number painted on your cheek,” Rafe recalls, his forefinger brushing over where the blue and white paint had been five years ago. “And then I thought, ‘well. maybe…’ But you were still sad and I felt weird just because you were you, and then you told me you got into school in California, and… well. Yeah.”

Your silent but your eyes dance with mirth and Rafe recoils, sitting up a little straighter.

“What?”

“Then I beat you,” you tease.

“What do you mean you beat me?”

“I’ve liked you since you started dating Chloe. I win,” you declare.

“Now hold on. No, I—no, that doesn’t—do you not remember Midsummers sophomore year? Or the frog in eighth grade? Or fuck, Y/n/n, when I let you borrow my entire Harry Potter collection in fourth grade? You know I didn’t even own them yet, I’ve told you this, haven’t I? You asked Topper for his and he said no so I begged my dad to buy me them as an early birthday gift and I binged them in a week just so we could talk—you’re the fucking worst, you know that?”

You erupt into full-on laughter after stifling giggles for his entire speech, tumbling forward into his chest. “Oh my god, y-you—you’re so fucking cute.”

“Fuck you, Y/l/n. Seriously,” Rafe grumbles, his fingers digging into your ribs. “I was first.”

“So competitive,” you laugh. “And yet you still couldn’t even give me a hint that you liked me first.”

“I thought I was pretty obvious,” Rafe protests. “Not my fault you were so oblivious—we could’ve been dating for half a decade by this point.”

You settle down back into his chest, hands intertwining with his where it rests around your shoulders. You tug his rings off and start slipping them onto your own fingers, making Rafe’s heart skip a beat when you slip the one he’d inherited from his late grandfather onto your ring finger. “I don’t know if I was ready for you in high school, Rafe. I still had so much to learn—clearly, because I still thought you just wanted to hook up with me when you asked me out.”

“Stroked your ego a bit though, didn’t it?” Rafe says, his hand closing over yours so you can’t take the ring off yet. You turn and look back up at him, beaming.

“Maybe a little.”

“I don’t know how we would’ve done four entire years long distance,” Rafe says. “A year nearly killed me.”

“You visited like every other weekend. And we went home all the time.”

“Nearly killed me,” he repeats.

“Y’know—I hate it when you say you don’t deserve me or that you’re not good enough for me.”

Rafe’s smile falls slowly, the rush of your flirtations evaporating. “What?”

“In front of me or in front of anyone else. Hate it,” you whisper, burrowing further into his chest.

“I’m sorry, but I mean…”

“You’re about to do it again,” you chide, raising your eyebrows. Rafe doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything, leaning into your touch when you run a hand through his hair. “You rented my car, and you brought my grandmother her favorite flowers. You tore me open when I was acting cagey ‘cause you knew I needed the push, and then you just listened to me. You let me cry about some stupid guy who I hardly even think about anymore, and you protected me but you didn’t cause a scene because I asked you not to.”

Rafe still doesn’t think he’ll ever see himself through your eyes, but this is one of those moments where he’s really trying. It’s hard for him because he can’t imagine ever not doing those things for you because they’re not easy things but they’re easy for him because he loves you. But there’s this work involved, and he knows you work to love him but that’s different because Rafe knows he’s harder to love. And you shouldn’t ever feel like anyone is good enough for you but he’s realizing it isn’t that simple, and it’s neither of your faults but that’s just how it is.

You put it simply, anyway. “You’re my guy, Rafe. I choose you. Always.”

“How have the two of you not frozen to death yet?”

Rafe turns his head to see the cousins bundled up and heading your way, Tiffany holding a blanket that she drapes over the two of you before she settles with Penny on one of the couches across from you two. You immediately tuck your left hand under the blanket and out of sight, but you don’t remove Rafe’s ring.

“You guys missed dessert,” EJ announces, his wife Beth under his arm. “But someone brought you some anyway, right bud?”

“Here you go,” Noah says, placing a brownie directly in Rafe’s lap, the napkin he lays on top mostly likely meant to go under. You giggle into his chest and Rafe can’t help but smile.

“Thanks, Noah,” he says, sending Noah to sit in his dad’s lap next to Penny. Dylan eventually joins the party too, bringing Wilbur in tow, who prances right up to Rafe and immediately begs for crumbs. “Is Kendra asleep?”

“Yeah,” Beth sighs. “Ingrid’s watching her.”

“Caldecotts just left,” Dylan says softly, only loud enough for you and Rafe to hear over the crackle of the fire. “I watched them go.”

“Thanks, Dyl,” you say quietly, and your brother rolls his eyes. Rafe can see right through the feigned arrogance of a nineteen-year-old boy who still pretended he didn’t outwardly love his older sister. But his eyes flicker to Rafe then and he just nods in recognition before sitting on your other side, and Rafe will let him get away with it.

Because you’re finally, completely relaxed against him now, surrounded by your family and their loved ones while Theo is long gone, your hands still intertwined underneath the blanket Tiffany brought you two.

And neither of you can stop fiddling with the ring on your left hand.

—

Rafe triple checks that you’re soundly sleeping before leaving the guest room you’d been given for the night, tip-toeing down the stairs and to the kitchen, far enough away from where everyone’s asleep as not to disturb anyone.

He’d taken you up to bed after catching your third stifled yawn, and you’d been practically boneless by the time Rafe had finished brushing his teeth and came to join you under the covers. “You know it’s not him right? I don’t love him, and I don’t even like him.”

“I know.”

“It’s just hard being back here, being around all of this,” you clarified, your eyes drooping heavily. “But it’s easier with you here, I think.”

And then you’d rolled over and gone to sleep. He’d laid with you for probably fifteen minutes just doing the thing he does when you can sleep and he can’t yet—holding you and trying not to spend too much time just thinking about how lucky he is—before he finally extricated himself and made the trek downstairs that he’d been dreading all day.

The phone rings three times before his dad picks up, muttering a gruff greeting. “Rafe, it’s late.”

“I know, dad,” he cringes, reading the time on the oven’s clock display. “I’m sorry for getting back to you so late—it’s just been busy over here.”

They discuss the business-related things that Ward had been emailing him about all day, which really were things that could’ve gone through Rafe’s other boss or literally anyone else in his department, but such is Rafe’s life.

“I need that Monday, Rafe.”

Rafe lets out a sigh, already picturing you pouting when he was to log some hours on the last day of your trip. But he saw you slip your own work computer into your carry-on when you thought he wasn’t looking, so it looks like neither of you could fully make good on your promise to unplug this weekend. After everything that happened today though, Rafe craves the normalcy, the sheer mundanity of the two of you across a table from each other tapping away at your respective keyboards. Refilled cups of coffee and kicks in his shins when you get bored—it sounds like a dream. “Yeah, you got it.”

“Good,” Ward says. “You said you’re busy up there?”

“Uh, yeah,” Rafe says. “Just meeting the family and all that.”

“How’d it go?” his father asks, taking Rafe completely by surprise.

“It was hard,” Rafe admits, taking himself even more by surprise. “It’s a lot, dad. They’re… yeah. It’s intense up here, but I think I did alright.”

You’d told him that he did. You told him he was your guy. And that you choose him. Always.

“Well, bud,” Ward says, heaving his own sigh. “Can’t say I’m surprised. I mean, I told you it’d be this way with her, didn’t I?”

How silly of Rafe to even dare get to a vulnerable place with his dad, like he’d comfort him or something. “Yeah. You did.”

“Hm,” Ward hums. “Well, see you when you get back. And don’t forget to get that in Monday, alright?”

“Yeah, dad,” Rafe whispers. “Bye.”

The line clicks and Rafe stays leaned up against the kitchen counter for a second, honestly just feeling sorry for himself. Not even kicking himself for being stupid, but letting himself feel sad that this is how things were for him, because you’d always told him that it was okay if he did that.

Not even a hang in there or a cheer up, bud. Just a goodbye and one last reminder about work.

“Everything alright in here, son?”

He stands up straight again when your father enters the kitchen in his pajamas, heading straight for the fridge. “Um, yeah. I was just—”

“Do you want a sandwich, Rafe? I saw you skip out on dinner early tonight,” William says, already pulling ingredients out.

“You don’t have to—sure,” Rafe decides, dare his rumbling stomach give him away.

“PB&J?”

“Perfect.”

Your dad makes small talk while he makes two sandwiches, sliding the first one over to Rafe on a paper towel. “I’d tell you to bring one up to Y/n, but I’m willing to bet she’s asleep if she let you out of her sight.”

Rafe blushes as he polishes off his first half, nodding guiltily. “Yeah, she’s down for the count. Had to come make a phone call.”

“Everything alright?” William asks, setting both knives in the sink before taking a seat across from Rafe at the kitchen island.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just work stuff,” Rafe explains, not putting much thought into it.

“How are things with the old man?”

“Fine,” Rafe says immediately. “Yeah. Fine. Same old.”

“So not fine?”

“Mr. Y/l/n, look. You don’t—”

“Rafe, I think after today there should be no doubt in your mind that I’m familiar with what you go through,” William points out, looking up from his own PB&J. “Very familiar. It’s okay.”

Rafe’s cheek falls into his fist where his arm props him up against the counter, and he’s really starting to feel the travel day wearing on him, now that he thinks about it. “Right. I’m sorry again for bringing this on. I didn’t know Y/n’s mom would go to all this trouble when I mentioned it.”

William rolls his eyes much the same way you do when Rafe finds himself unable to stop apologizing, waving the hand holding his sandwich in dismissal. “It’s fine. Gotta do it every now and then. Come suffer through a visit with the family, and then go back to your perfect little life. And Kendra’s about cute as hell, isn’t she?”

“She is,” Rafe agrees, feeling himself smile. “Can I ask you something, though?”

“Rafe,” your dad warns. “My daughter is only twenty-two. I know you’re not letting my dad get in your head about marriage this early.”

“No, god—no. I—Mr. Y/l/n, it’s not that.” Not yet.

“Then I’m all ears,” William says, seemingly giddy at Rafe’s panic. God, you were so much like him. That familiarity is what finally pushes Rafe’s thoughts out of his head and into the air between them.

“How’d you do it?”

William narrows his eyes. “What?”

Rafe clears his throat, setting the second half of his sandwich back down on the paper towel. His fingers tap on the marble for a second before he gestures to the kitchen around him, and the house in general. “How’d you get out of all of this? The business, your family—you got away from it all, didn’t you?”

Your dad hums in recognition, shrugging his shoulders.

“Huh. Well, easy one,” he says, dropping his uneaten crust to his own paper towel, brushing his hands together so any residual crumbs fall onto the paper towel. “I fell in love.”

“Wait, what?”

“Not what you expected to hear from your girlfriend’s mean old dad, huh?” William quips.

“Honestly? No,” Rafe admits. “And you’re not mean, by the way.”

“The Y/l/ns have been vacationing in the OBX for years, Rafe. It’s how I met Shan in the first place. Back when I was a lowly touron,” William says. A fond grin graces his features, and Rafe realizes that he really isn’t kidding.

“And…?”

“And that was her home, it’s where she wanted to be,” your dad explains. “I loved her and I wanted her home to be mine, too. The business part was easy—I never liked it. And Shannon was the perfect reason to just say fuck everything else, excuse my language.”

“Wow,” Rafe breathes. “Wow—no, yeah. Excused.”

“And I did all of that,” William continues. “And it wasn’t easy and things are still hard sometimes, but now you get to date my daughter because of it. ‘Cause I chose my wife.”

“Wasn’t there a fallout? Y’know, with your folks and everything?” Rafe asks.

“Oh yeah. Nuclear.”

“Shit—sorry, fuck. Sorry,” Rafe repeats, mouth gaping at his own actions.

“But we moved on,” your dad continues, paying Rafe’s outburst no mind. “I know you’ve seen a different side of me this weekend, Rafe. But I love my life. I love my wife and my kids are awesome—I don’t regret the choice I made one bit and I never will. Because as much as it was for them, it was for me, too.”

Rafe nods in stunned silence, picking up his sandwich to eat again. “Thanks for telling me that.”

“Anytime,” William says, patting Rafe’s shoulder on the way to the fridge for a bottle of water. “How is my daughter, by the way?”

“She’s good,” Rafe says, and he feels like he isn’t lying, not at all. Because he knows you’re good, because he made you good.

Your father turns on his way out of the kitchen to address Rafe one last time. “Alright. And you?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You, Rafe. How are you?”

“I’m good, too.”

—

You just about keel over in adoration watching Rafe bid your entire family goodbye the next morning, from the way he flinches at your grandpa’s shoulder pat, to the blush that consumes his entire neck when your grandma kisses his cheek and makes him promise to give her the name of the florist he used for her arrangement. Noah’s in the running with Wilbur for who seems most upset to see him go, although you can’t say you feel the least bit guilty when you finally get him back to yourself in the car.

He’d offered to drive this time around, rolling down his window and waving goodbye one last time, committing to EJ that he won’t be a stranger anymore and shooting Penny a thumbs-up in solidarity. What had really caught your eye was the way your dad had hugged him, giving him a look you’d only ever seen for Dylan. This entire weekend was a lot, but Rafe was perfect—of course they all loved him.

“Ah,” you sigh as soon as Rafe drives off of the property. “We did it. Nobody died.”

“Drama,” Rafe sings, smacking your thigh lightly.

“Oh, the family meeting expert has returned, has he?” you jest, thinking back to Rafe’s cockiness the first time he met your parents and could tell they were head over heels for him.

“Never left,” Rafe says, still adjusting his seat and mirrors from your much shorter view as a driver. “But yeah, we did do it. You did it.”

“And now we have forty-three hours left of our first ever weekend away together,” you say, trying not to sound defeated. “Yay.”

“Oh no, this one doesn’t count either,” Rafe laughs. “We’re getting a do-over ASAP.”

“Are we?”

“I was thinking like, Wyoming. Unless there’s some oil heir out there I don’t know about that can’t seem to get over you.”

“No, he’s in Montana. We’re good,” you joke, leaning over the center console to kiss your boyfriend’s cheek. You slink down into your seat as he pulls onto the highway and sets the cruise control, his hand slipping to your knee when he can steady the wheel. You grab his hand, thumb stroking over his knuckles, wearing all of their proper rings once again. “I know it was a little much, and we had to deal with Theo, but. Thank you for coming with me, seriously. We can plan that do-over when we get back, yeah?”

“I’d go anywhere with you.”

“Well, I’d hope so. Seeing as it’s supposed to be a weekend away together,” you muse, flicking through your Spotify library for an upbeat album this time around.

“No, listen to me, though,” Rafe says. “I mean anywhere. I’d follow you wherever.”

You turn to look at him, a little confused at his tone of voice. “Rafe, we can pick the place together—it’s not a big deal.”

“Do you think it’s time to start talking about California?”

“Um,” you wrack your brain for your last visit with Delilah and Wren. It’d only been two months ago. “Well, sure. We could go in March, maybe? I’ll talk to them, we can probably stay for another week. But I thought you wanted to go somewhere new?”

“Y/n/n, I… I was thinking something a little more permanent, if you’re ready for that.”

You put your phone in the center console, no longer worried about if the music is matching the vibe of the still-rising sun or the beating in your heart. “You mean for my job?”

“For your career,” he corrects. “I know Agnes isn’t back until the summer, but it’s never too early to look, right? Just to see what we think?”

“But Rafe, what… would you still be able to work for your dad?” you question immediately, because it’s the first and biggest thought currently on your mind.

“Oh,” Rafe says, like it’s an afterthought. “Unlikely. But I wasn’t really counting on that.”

The wheels in your mind are slow but at least they’re turning now, picking up on what exactly he’s offering. “So, you—Rafe, you wanna quit?”

“Take a break,” he amends, shrugging one shoulder so the wheel keeps the car steady. “Like we talked about when we moved in together, remember? We’ll be back one day if it’s where we’re meant to be.”

“But… Ward’s not gonna like that, is he?”

“Doesn’t matter what my dad likes, Y/n,” Rafe reminds you, looking completely resolved. “What matters is you.”

“Rafe,” you say dumbly, all the other thoughts stolen from your brain as you just watch your boyfriend drive you through your grandparents’ town with ease, acting like he isn’t offering you the world. “Why are you saying this right now?”

He turns to look at you for as long as he can before his eyes have to go back to the road, bringing the hand intertwined on your leg to his lips, pressing a soft kiss right on your ring finger.

“Because you’re my girl and I love you, Y/n/n. And I’ll always choose you, too.”

[btsqualityy]

The Kims come over for Joon’s bday! They come baring gift and a Ryan cake. “Grandpa! Look!” Each kid also has a plant for him. “Thank you guys!! Let’s add them to our indoor garden!” He goes to his study and each kid places their potted plants in their new designated area. Brooklyn being nosey looks the prized planes on the windowsill. “Grandpa, why can’t we touch these?” Joon picks her her even though she’s so big now. “Well love, these are my most prized possessions. I bought these mini bonsai tress when you guys were born. See? Here is juniors which is 17 years old. Ken’s which is 14. Your which is 11 and baby Aiden’s which is 5 and his flower just bloomed the other day! I take good care of them and when you guys aren’t with me, I can look at them and feel at peace because they represent you guy.” Brooklyn kisses Joon’s cheek before shimming down and running after Aiden. Mason hugs his dad and wishes him a happy birthday once again. “I thought Me, Maia and Miles were your prized possessions.” Namjoon laughs. “You guys still are and look” Mason follows his dads pointed finger to the backyard and sees the trees he planted for his three kids years ago all strong and tall! His children are playing under it as Junior, kinsley and his mom talk under another. Mason just smiles. 🪴

I actually love this 🥺🥺

[ashtheshortstack]

grass kissed drabble

Hey guys! I found this in my WIPs since I'm finally writing again. It's from Nov 2020. I'm assuming I was writing it for some type of prompt and never finished it. Also, it was clearly supposed to be smutty LOL.

Enjoy this little Kristanna drabble! Rated T for saucy making out.

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

The grass was soft under her skin, sun warming her in its rays. It wasn’t often she got time to herself like this between her job and college. Her boyfriend often did what he could to help her relax, but Kristoff could only do so much for her on a day to day basis with his own job.

It was a rarity that she really got to enjoy the large, grassy plain behind her home. It was a nice contrast to the prestigious gated house she lived in. Not that she complained about the mansion she lived in--she never wanted for anything. But sometimes… taking a moment with nature was better than having things. She couldn’t take that big house with her when left the earth, but she could take the memories and appreciation of her surroundings.

“Hey, you.”

Anna jumped at the voice. Tilting her head back in the grass, she looked up at the shadow blocking her sun. “Hey, Kris! What’re you doing here?”

Smiling, he shrugged and took a seat next to her. “Elsa told me you were out here. Took me a while to find you.”

She sat up next to him, thrilled to see him. “What’re you doing here? I thought you had work today.”

“Pabbie let me off early,” he replied with an amused grin as he plucked a blade of grass from her hair.

Humming, Anna picked at the grass. “That was nice of him.”

“Yeah. Said I’ve been working too hard. Gave me tomorrow off too.”

Anna gaped. “Wait, really? I don’t have work tomorrow either. So… Maybe we could go do something?”

He nodded, smirking at her. “Sounds good to me.”

Anna was giddy at the news. It’d been so long since she and Kristoff had had a date night. That was wonderful! She couldn’t contain her excitement.

She hugged his arm, leaning her head onto his shoulder, beaming like a fool knowing that she got to spend the next day with him. And however long they had today. It wasn’t often they got to really see one another two days in a row. She loved him so much. Every moment with him was a blessing.

“It’s really beautiful out here,” she mused.

He hummed in agreement, pressing his cheek to her crown. “Even more so since you’re out here.”

Anna couldn’t stop the smile from spreading along with lips as she giggled. “That was cheesy, and you know it.”

“Doesn’t make it wrong.”

Snorting, she moved quickly. She hitched a leg around his hips, sitting in his lap before shoving him back into the grass. “You better be careful flirting like that. I may have to do something drastic.”

“Shoving me into the grass is drastic?”

“Making out in my backyard where my sister could easily catch us is a bit adventurous, right?”

Kristoff barked a laugh. “This is the saddest attempt of exhibitionism ever.”

She smacked his chest. “Shut up,” she pouted.

That smirk was still etched on his lips. The one that drove her insane. The one that made her want him so much.

“You could make me.”

And she did.

Anna met his lips in a kiss. His hands immediately found purchase on her: one buried in her auburn tresses and the other on her hip. He squeezed her gently, the pressure sending shivers down her spine at his touch.

Their little escapade didn’t progress past heavy, heated smooching and a bit of rubbing against one another. Anna was far too timid to try to get her boyfriend naked outside in the broad daylight. Her heart swelled when she was with him. Kristoff made her excited. Made her want to spend every single day by his side. It was exciting to be with him like this. Not because of the possible thrill of being caught--she’d hate that. Not because they were outside and the weather was perfect and the foliage surrounding them was beautiful… but because it was Kristoff. Because he was there.

And she didn’t regret a moment with him.

Well… except for maybe when they returned inside… and Elsa questioned the green stains, swollen lips, and blades of grass in their hair.

[leonhardt-simp]

Since we’re talking abt animals, I live in Florida so the norm is alligators 💀 alligators in the backyard (there a lake), turtles in the pool, iguanas in the tress (big as hell too), and snakes on our front porch 💀💀😬😔 reptile central basically 💀 THEN THE GECKOS THAT SNEAK INTO YOUR HOUSE 😐 it’s crazy

HAHAHAHA

Florida built different, I’m glad I don’t live there anymore.

The turtles that we used to come across on streets.

Not to mention the geckos. The weather there sucked ass as well. Bipolar weather.

Hurricane city. Literally had a tree be uprooted next to my house, was insane.

[authenticcadence18]

“A Thank-You Speech”

“Phineas and Ferb have just been awarded the Nobel Prize in Physics! After giving the audience at the award ceremony a few words of inspiration, they start thanking the friends and family who helped them along the way...and Phineas has a very special thank you to give to a certain someone he loves.”

(So I wrote the first version of this in 2015! Earlier today, I got the idea to polish and post some of my old Phinabella one-shots since idk when Chapter 8 of "Can't Help Falling in Love" will be finished, and is the first piece I'm posting! I hope you enjoy!) 

AO3

...

"Esteemed guests, it is my GREAT pleasure to introduce our next Nobel prize winners! These two step-brothers have wowed the world with both their countless advanced achievements in physics and the creative ways in which they accomplish them! At just 21, they are the youngest to ever receive this award! So, without further ado, the winners of this year's Nobel Prize in Physics: Phineas Flynn and Ferb Fletcher!"

The tuxedoed presenter stepped aside to let the recipients of the award step onstage. Applause thundered deeply throughout the hall as Phineas and Ferb entered and waved. The presenter handed Phineas the medal and Ferb the microphone. The two brothers exchanged a wary glance before chuckling and swapping items.

"Hi, everyone!!” Phineas proclaimed as the applause died down. “First off...wow, this is amazing! Ten years ago, Ferb and I were just building inventions in our backyard for fun, and now we've become the youngest people to ever win the Nobel Prize for Physics for them??? How awesome is that?”

Ferb nodded at his side.

“We couldn't have won this award if we didn't follow our dreams and express ourselves,” Phineas continued, “so Ferb and I want to encourage everyone out there to get creative!!” He smiled as memories of summers gone by flashed through his mind. “If you wanna build a rollercoaster, go for it! Write a catchy song and become a one-hit-wonder, give it a shot! We believe EVERYONE is capable of greatness!! Some people just need a bit more help to realize it...and that’s what Ferb and I are here for!”

The brothers exchanged a glance and grinned as some of the audience members applauded.

“We couldn’t have made it this far without our friends and family!” Phineas stated when the applause died down. “First, we'd like to thank our parents for nurturing us and giving us a good home growing up--and for falling in love and bringing us together!!! We'd also like to thank our big sister Candace, who ALWAYS motivated us to keep moving and inventing when we were kids!!! Love ya, big sis!"

Ferb grabbed the microphone and added, "We'd also like to thank the friends who were there for every wild adventure and invention. Buford, Baljeet, the former Fireside Girls of troop 46231, Irving…”

Someone in the audience let out a high pitched squeal. "HE SAID MY NAME!!!!!"

Phineas and Ferb exchanged an amused glance. (They should’ve known Irving would be in the audience.)

Ferb finished off his speech with a sincere, “Without your encouragement and inspiration, Phineas and I probably wouldn’t be standing here tonight. So thank you!!”

The audience cheered as Ferb took a step back.

It seemed as if the acceptance speech was over...but Phineas wasn’t quite finished. He took the microphone back from Ferb before the presenter could usher them out and move on with the next award. "Before we go, there's one more person I need to say thank you to," he explained to the audience. “But it won’t take long, I promise.”

He took a deep breath and rubbed his ear...and then spoke.

"...when we were kids...there was this girl who lived across the street from Ferb and I."

Someone in the auditorium gasped.

"She was the leader of the local Fireside Girl troop and was certainly popular enough to hang out with anyone she wanted, but she just kept coming back to our backyard, every day, no matter what. I never really grasped the real reason why she kept coming back summer after summer, it was just how things always were. I always enjoyed spending time with her, but I’ll admit I might have taken her for granted… Frankly, I didn't realize just how much I loved having her around until one summer when she started coming over less and less.”

Phineas paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. (Revisiting this particular time in his life was more painful than he realized it would be.)

"I missed you...." he confessed to the special someone, "...and I finally understood I'd been falling in love with you all that time without realizing it. I didn’t think you’d ever feel anything for me, but, eventually I learned you loved me too...I just hadn't noticed. When I found out, I thought it was too late for us, but...well.....you still hadn't given up on me, despite everything....”

He smiled softly.

"The past few years have been some of the best of my life! And not because of success or the inventions or even this award, but because we were together every step of the way. I know I couldn’t have gotten to this point without you, and I can’t wait to see what life has in store for us next. Thank you so much for being there for me.

"...I love you, Isabella.”

His words of sincere affection faded into the auditorium of people. They were too stunned to applaud: how were they supposed to react to such a personal expression of gratitude?

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to tell you this in person,” Phineas continued, “but, as soon as I get home…”

His voice trailed off.

In the middle of the auditorium, a woman with long dark tresses stood from her seat on the aisle.

She bashfully lifted a hand to her cheek to wipe away a tear before waving and smiling shyly up at the stage.

Phineas's heart skipped a beat.

“Is...ISABELLA!!!"

Carelessly, he thrust the microphone back into the presenter's hands and flung himself down the stairs and through the aisles with reckless abandon.

Isabella barely had time to step out of the row before she was in his arms and they were embracing tightly. "Oh, Phineas....." she sighed into his shoulder.

“Isabella, what are you doing here??" Phineas asked excitedly, pulling away from the hug so he could gaze at her. “I thought you were watching the livestream of the ceremony from Danville!!”

Isabella grinned. "I couldn't let you win a Nobel Prize without me in the audience!" She shrugged and admitted, "I wanted to surprise you when it was over, but…” A happy tear trickled down her face. “...naturally, you surprised me instead.”

Phineas gingerly took his girlfriend's face in his hands as she sniffled, and he smiled sweetly, caressing the tear from her cheek. "Don’t worry, you DEFINITELY surprised me," he insisted warmly before drawing her into a gentle kiss.

For a few moments, there was no auditorium or award ceremony or crowd of people.

Isabella and Phineas were just that. Isabella and Phineas.

When they parted, they gazed at one another adoringly...and suddenly remembered the auditorium and award ceremony and crowd of people.

They both paled.

No one else was speaking...and they could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on them.

"....we just kissed....in front of thousands of people.....at one of the most prestigious award ceremonies in the world......" Isabella voiced, eyes wide.

“Yes.....yes we did....." a flustered Phineas confirmed.

From onstage, Ferb snickered silently before taking the microphone and breaking the silence by gesturing towards the couple and announcing,

“My brother and future sister-in-law, everyone!!!!”

His bit of teasing did the trick.

Gone were the stares and awkward silence. Now, the audience members were clapping and cheering on Isabella and Phineas’s behalf...and Isabella and Phineas were blushing and smiling from ear to ear.

They glanced around for a bit before turning back to each other.

“...Ferb’s future sister-in-law, huh?” Isabella mused. She looked up at Phineas with a wry grin. “I kinda like the sound of that.”

Phineas returned the smile as he took Isabella’s left hand in his and examined it thoughtfully. “It does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Isabella’s eyes widened. “.....was that a pun? A PROPOSAL pun??”

“Mmmmmaybe….” Phineas replied with a wink. “But! I don’t have a ring to propose to you with just yet, don’t get your hopes up…” he elaborated quickly. “...you don’t mind being my future-fiance for now, right?”

Isabella giggled as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I don’t mind at all,” she replied before leaning in to kiss him again.

(This time, the audience cheered when their lips met.)

“...Ferb’s never going to let us live this down, is he?" Phineas mused when the kiss ended.

"No...he probably isn’t...." Isabella agreed with a sheepish grin.

“Ah, well....." Phineas pulled her a little closer and assured her, "It was worth it. ...I love you.”

Isabella giggled cutely and replied, "I gitchee gitchee goo you too.”

...

THANKS FOR READING!!!!! I hope you enjoyed! I have no idea if this is actually how Nobel Prize ceremonies work but it's fine, LOL. Perhaps they work differently in Phineas and Ferb's universe anyway!

Let me know if you'd be interested in reading more of these! Revisiting this one today was a ton of fun.

[selenas-cc-stuff]

Maxis Match Hair CC for Black Sims - A Masterlist

Salaamaalekum! 

Since I like to play with a lot of diversity and I often found myself getting desperate at the lack of curly/coily hair and dreads for my black sims I decided to make a masterlist, for a more diverse gameplay! (If you find your content on this list and wish to have it removed, please DM me!) Black Lives Matter!

Curls

- Tropicurls by LeeLeeSims1 - Pina Front Curls by LeeLeeSims1 - Brace-Let-For-It by LeeLeeSims1 - Ocean Swell by LeeLeeSims1 - Cornrows and Curls by LeeLeeSims1 - Slick It Back Ponytail by LeeLeeSims1 - Headband Over Heels by LeeLeeSims1 - Totally Twisted by LeeLeeSims1 - Up And Out Curls (Short) by LeeLeeSims1 - Up And Out Curls (Long) by LeeLeeSims1 - Fringe Benefits by LeeLeeSims1 - Puffs N Stuff by LeeLeeSims1 - Au Naturale by LeeLeeSims1 - Bonnie Hair by Grimcookies - Lila Hair by Grimcookies - Sebastian Hair by Grimcookies - Trista Tresses Hair by SAVYSWEET - Cleo Curls by SAVYSWEET - Sulani Hairs by Saurussims - Curls Up Collection by Saurussims - Simblreen Treats by SheSpeaksSimlish - Rosie Hair by SheSpeaksSimlish - Bella Taper by SheSpeaksSimlish - Curly Puff Ver. 3 by SheSpeaksSimlish - Loose Twist Out by SheSpeaksSimlish - Tee Tee and Lala by SheSpeaksSimlish - Hair Set by SheSpeaksSimlish - Lil Darlin’ by SheSpeaksSimlish - Bobble Twists by SheSpeaksSimlish - Curly Bun by SheSpeaksSimlish - Maxine Hair by SheSpeaksSimlish - Honey Bouffant by SheSpeaksSimlish - Donna Curls by Birksche - Pile Up Small by Birksche - Low Pile F by Birksche - Long Tight Curls by Birksche - Gina Curls by Birksche - Marcy’s Curls by Birksche - Mid Wave Knot F by Birksche - Masha’s Long Curls by Birksche - Adult More Tight Curls by Birksche - Left Side Twist F by Birksche - High Heels Hair by Birksche

Afros

- Puffed Up by LeeLeeSims1 - Undefined by LeeLeeSims1 - Lovey Dovey Fro by LeeLeeSims1 - ‘Ring’ Let Down Your Hair by LeeLeeSims1 - Preschool Puffs by LeeLeeSims1 - Marie Hair by Grimcookies - Zazie Hair by Grimcookies - Damien Hairs by Saurussims - Bibbidy-Bobbidy-Bebe by Saurussims - Okurrrt by SheSpeaksSimlish - Shanai by SheSpeaksSimlish - Curly Fro Ver. 1 by SheSpeaksSimlish - Curly Fro Ver. 2 by SheSpeaksSimlish - Kink N Curly Puff by SheSpeaksSimlish - Big Time Fro by SheSpeaksSimlish - Under Wraps by SheSpeaksSimlish - Toddler Puff Series by SheSpeaksSimlish - Kids Puff Series by SheSpeaksSimlish - The Puff Series by SheSpeaksSimlish - Missandei Curls by Birksche - Pretty Woman Curls by Birksche - Malus Afro Bun by Birksche - Contest Wave Hair by Birksche

Dreads

- On Loc Ponytail by LeeLeeSims1 - Low Loc Bun by Grimcookies - Drake Dreads by SAVYSWEET - 10K Follower Gift by SAVYSWEET - Ezekiel Hairs by Saurussims - Marley Hair by Saurussims - Yvette Dreads by Nolan-Sims - Imani Hair by Nolan-Sims - Goddess Dreads by Nolan-Sims - Freeform Locs by SheSpeaksSimlish - Shaw by SheSpeaksSimlish - Omari Bun by SheSpeaksSimlish - Messy Bun by SheSpeaksSimlish - Adaora by SheSpeaksSimlish - Twisted Bun by SheSpeaksSimlish - High Class Bun by SheSpeaksSimlish - Box Braids and Dreadlocks - Jessie Dreads by Birksche - Halfup Dreads by Birksche - Backyard Dreads by Birksche - Lauries Shorter Dreads by Birksche - Anschi’s Dreads by Birksche - Strings Dreads by Birksche

Braids

- Crew Braids by LeeLeeSims1 - Crew Braids Ver. 2 by LeeLeeSims1 - 90S Babe Braids by LeeLeeSims1 - Side Swept Braids by LeeLeeSims1 - At Last by LeeLeeSims1 - Accomplished Hair (Adult Version) by LeeLeeSims1 - Accomplished Hair (Child Version) by LeeLeeSims1 - Bangin’ Ponytail by LeeLeeSims1 - Hon Bun by LeeLeeSims1 - Bad Gal Braids by SAVYSWEET - Galaxy Hair by Saurussims - Nebula Hair by Saurussims - Goddess Braids by Nolan-Sims - Dutch Chanel Braids by SheSpeaksSimlish - Twisted Bun Ver. 2 by SheSpeaksSimlish - Jumbo Braid by SheSpeaksSimlish - Chief by SheSpeaksSimlish - Adanna by SheSpeaksSimlish - Asym by SheSpeaksSimlish - Badu by SheSpeaksSimlish - Cereus by SheSpeaksSimlish - Bun On Top by SheSpeaksSimlish - Poetic Justice by SheSpeaksSimlish - Freedom Bun by SheSpeaksSimlish - Braid Series 2 by SheSpeaksSimlish - Under Wraps 2 by SheSpeaksSimlish - Braid Series by SheSpeaksSimlish - Calie Hair by Birksche - Twisted Knot by Birksche - Pull Back Braid Bun by Birksche - Pull Back Braids by Birksche - Pull Back Ponytails by Birksche - Mahalia Hair by Birksche - Braid Knot On Top by Birksche

Jàmm ak jàmm! <3

[lonely-teddy-bear]

The King’s Mate ➳ h.s. au

(no changes made)

word count: 3.7k

This is the longest i’ve written and I really liked it and I hope you all like it too.

--------------------------------------

Chapter Five

I grew up in a home of two parents, they were good parents. I was the only child they had so the attention was always on me. I had everything I always wanted and all the love from them. That's probably all that a child could ever want, have parents that love each other and give their attention to their child and no one else. Seven year old me thought that, she thought that nothing would ruin what her parents had and what she had but she was wrong. At the age of ten she got home to a drunk dad, in tears, with holes in the walls and glass on the floor of an unknown object. She looked around for her mom, going into the kitchen, the bed rooms, the bathrooms and even the backyard but she was no where to be found. Running back to her dad to ask him what was wrong and cried along with her dad. Her dad couldn't say many words has he was super drunk and hurt with a broken heart but ten year old Valentina didn't know that, she just knew her dad needed help.

Having her grandma on speed dial on the hime phone, Valentina called her and soon her grandmother arrived and saw the mess in the house. While Valentina was told to go to her room her grandmother attended her broken son. After hours of being locked in her room and haven't eaten she was called out by her grandmother to the kitchen table.

She didn't understand much about what had happened to her mother or where she was but as older she got the more she understood. She understood why her dad was on the floor crying with a bootle of who knows what and with blood in his hands and holes in the walls. She understood why her mother disappeared that day and wasn't there to greet her when arriving from school. She understood why her dad fell into a deep depression and didn't want to talk to anyone and understood why her grandmother tool care of them both after that day. As older she grew, she started to understand why she hated werewolves with all her heart, she knew why she didn't want to find the one, she didn't want to belong to someone that she wouldn't love. She figured out so many things after that night because after years of connecting dots and connecting the words his father would mumble, she was able to understand that her mom didn't just get up and leave. No, she didn't get up and leave, she had gone to the grocery store and never came back because somehow she found the one at the store and didn't even bother calling or stopping by the house to say something. What she started to think was that maybe a high rank wolf was her soulmate and was possessive of her, or maybe she was kidnapped after finding out that she was married with a kid. Everyone came to the conclusion that she had found the one, or the one found her but no one ever knew who took her or where she went with the wolf.

The only thing that Valentina knew was that she didn't want to be near a wolf, especially be with a wolf, not until she found her mom and find out what happened that day that ruined her family.

*****

I had walked out of the house after the argument with Harry, especially after he almost choked me to death. I had gone out through the same way we came in and started walking towards the trail of the woods. It had started to get dark, you part of the sunset but with the tall tress you could barely see anything. I had taken out my phone to try and send a text message to Kayla, or my dad but couldn't get signal so I decided to try to walk around and find at least one bar of signal. With my phone up high I walked in the pathway that we came in through but I had seen a bar pop up before the gravel trail started so I walked backwards and stop when I saw a bar pop up and took my chance of it. I tried sending a texted which would probably be easier but instead it failed to send. I grunted and stumped my foot down on the ground a bit too hard for my liking. I tried walking around again and was headed towards the woods that I walked through earlier but was stopped by a voice far behind me.

"You won't be able to find signal out here, luv." I might have been spooked by his voice, especially when it was getting dark out and the woods being extremely quiet. I turned around to look at him and he was leaning on the doorframe of the house entrance. He looked so calm, so casual as if we didn't just have a fight.

I looked away from him and continued walking deeper into the woods. I heard a chuckle from Harry and then heard footsteps and then gravel being walked on. I didn't bother to turn to see if it was Harry because really who else could it be.

"Come on luv let's go back home, it's getting dark soon. Like really soon." I ignored him and continued walking with my phone up high not looking away from it. There's got to be at least one bar, one that will let me send a text or even call. While I looked down to see where I was stepping and see if I was still in the trail I felt my phone being snatched away from me, making me gasp and then turn around to see Harry with my phone in his high which was up high, where I wouldn't be able to get it.

"I told you there won't be any signal up here."

I looked at Harry and then at my phone. I walked closer to Harry and got on my tippy toes, trying to be as tall as I could and squinted my eyes to see my phone.

"Oh well, thank you for holding it higher for me because my message just send," I looked at Harry and gave him a smile. He looked to be thrown off and looked at my phone to see that I in fact did not lie to him. He looked back at me and glared at me.

"Did you do this on purpose?"

I looked at him with a confused face, "no, I just wanted to get someone to come and get me away from you but my message wouldn't send and thanks to you I got to send a message to Kayla, and as you can see it was a long message." Harry looked down at the phone and with the look of his face I knew he was reading it.

He quickly looked up and stared at me, "you told her that I was about to kill you? Really? You couldn't maybe say how stubborn you were being and put my wolf on edge?"

"It's not my fault that your wolf is so sensitive and insecure." His eyes darkened and growled at me. That somehow made me laugh and walked around him to go back inside the house because there was suddenly mosquitoes biting me. I heard him walk behind me and heard him grunt which was probably his wolf that wanted to come out.

Walking inside the house I made my way to where I believe was the kitchen to grab a snack.

I could still feel Harry walking behind me but I didn't bother looking behind me just so I could get him on edge with me ignoring him. I walked into the kitchen looking around to admired how big and beautiful it was, too bad that I didn't like spending my time in the kitchen. That was actually a lie because I spend my time in the kitchen cooking or eating or both at the same time.

"Are you just going to ignore me?" I just nodded my head and made my way to the refrigerator to see it packed with food and drinks.

"Geez what made you buy all this food? What if you didn't find your mate?" I turned to look at Harry after grabbing a bottle of sweet tea.

He just shrugged. "I don't know. I just woke up today and told my servants to grab me groceries. I could feel my wolf excited as if he knew he was going to find his mate, our mate." He leaned on the doorframe and just stared at me while I took a sip of my tea.

"Wait you have servants?" He gave me a nod.

"Wow, that's fancy." He shrugged, "It's nothing, I grew up with them and besides I'm the king I think I deserve to have servants don't you think?" I continued drinking my tea and stared at him.

"I guess. I don't know. I grew up doing everything on my own. There was no one to help me besides my abuelita."

He raised an eyebrow with questioning, "You talk Spanish?"

I gave him a small smile and shook my head in disbelief, "my name is Valentina and I have dark skin and probably have an accent, I thought you would have already guessed it by now."

He shook his head and moved away from the doorway and instead leaned over the counter that was in the middle of the kitchen. "You don't have dark skin. Your skin is golden, you look beautiful under the sun and well I didn't really try to figure out your ethnicity since I was too focused with the fact that I was looking at my mate. Also, you have an accent but not to hard ya know."

I gave him a nod of approval and leaned over the counter as well. "So what about you? What's up with the accent that you only seem to have." He gave me a smile and looked down at the counter for a moment and then looked up at me, "What's a king without him having an accent? Apparently every king had an accent and maybe I have one because i'm from England."

I was taken aback for a minute.

"Wait how are you the king of the North American pack?"

"Honey? We leave closer to Canada, which is closer to England, my mother had me in England when my parents were there for a meeting and decided to leave me there to grow up and have an accent."

"Wait who would leave their kid in another country and another pack?"

"I didn't stay with a pack. I actually stayed with an aunt who actually is human. She raised me and thought me the manners a king should have." His eyes didn't look away from me, making me a little uncomfortable.

"Did she show you how to dress too?" I raised my eyebrows at him with a teasing smile on my face. He looked down at his outfit and chuckled.

"I actually started dressing like this after becoming king when I turned 20. I always dressed in black clothes because I thought it was easier since I shifted a lot and ripped my clothes most of the time. Dressing like this made me control my shifting and I seem to look like a king don't you think?" He stood up straight and turned around giving me a full look of his body. I will admit he was good looking, but I would never tell him that.

"Hey eyes up here darling. You have a lot of time to see my body." I looked up at him and felt my face heat up.

"You should probably clean the little drool you have on your face." I went to wipe my chin but glared at him when I caught his joke. He just gave me a smile, looking all innocent.

"Well don't even think about me looking at you like that because trust me I've probably seen better." I went ahead and moved away from the counter and made my way towards the door way and go explore the second floor to see where my room was going to be but was instead pulled back by my arm causing me to almost drop my bottle of tea.

I turned to look at Harry who still had his hand around my arm and saw his eyes had turned black. Oh my I will one day die because of my stupid mouth.

He pulled me close to him, too close for my liking and softly growled at me, "you should watch what that pretty little mouth says next time luv or you won't like the consequences." I swallowed the saliva that created in my mouth and tried to pull away from his hold but couldn't because he was holding me too tight.

"Harry let me go." I said while I pulled my arm but he just held it tighter making me wince and let out a small noise.

"Ow! Harry let go!" I screamed and pulled my arm until he finally let go. I looked at him with question look but I probably looked scared.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I held my arm to my chest and looked at it to see his hand marked around the area of the elbow and then I looked up at Harry to see that he was back to normal. He looked worried and looked like he was about to cry.

"I- I'm so so sorry. I- I," he swallowed and sniffed before stepping closer to me but I stepped away from him and shook my head at him.

"No Harry, you hurt me, physically two times already today. Today! I'm not stupid but this will not work out if you can't take a little teasing or joke. You better control your wolf or I'll figure a way to get the hell out of here." I somehow regret saying anything because a tear fell down his cheek and looked so broken.

"I'm sorry. I'll try to control him, he just doesn't know the difference of a human and a wolf, he doesn't know that you don't understand us but please don't leave us. Don't leave me. I need you."

"You don't need me, you need me just so you can keep your title of a king. You can pick any girl in this pack of yours but you want to just stay with a human? I don't know about you but none of this makes sense to me." I looked at him for a couple of seconds before I turned around and headed over to the stair case to go look for my room. I didn't have any of my clothes because I didn't get to grab my bag.

When I got to the second floor I stopped before I went anywhere because I saw too many doors. I didn't know which one was which, I let out a huge sigh and continued walking and try and open all the doors to see which one looks like its mine. Before I could open the first door I heard Harry's voice, causing me to jump from him suddenly appearing. How the hell does he do that?

"You were supposed to sleep with me tonight but I guess you wouldn't want that." I just stared at him, not saying anything because he was right. There was no way I was going to sleep in his bed, next to him.

"Uh, you can stay in the room across from our room. It's almost the same to the one we will share, it has everything you need." I still didn't say anything and kept staring at him. He wasn't looking at me in the eyes, his cheeks were red and so were his ears, he somehow looked cute but I know I was the reason he looked like he had cried before he came up here to find me.

He walked past me, his arm almost touching mine, and heading towards the end of the hall. I followed him and stopped when he stopped in front of a door.

"Here's your room, if you need anything I'll be just across. You can either knock or just open the door and call my name." I opened the door to the room and turned the lights on to see a big room, bigger than my room at home and my dorm. The bed was maybe a queen? I wouldn't know but it wasn't a twin thats for sure.

"Okay, well goodnight." I turned around to find Harry opening his bedroom door but called out his name before he could close it.

"Yeah?" He looked me in the eyes with a questioning look.

"Do you have anything I could sleep in? I didn't get to grab my bag from the bus." He seemed taken back at my request but nodded.

"I'll go grab you something," he pointed to his room with his thumb and then turned around and went inside, leaving the door open. He didn't take long and came back with a black shirt in his hand and some grey sweatpants.

"I hope they aren't too big." He gave me a small smile and before I could thank him he went into his room and closed the door.

"Thank you," I whispered.

I headed over to the room I would be sleeping in and closed the door sighing, my shoulders dropping from how tired I felt. I just couldn't wait to go to sleep and hope that tomorrow is better than today.

*****

The moon shining above me was the only light I could see. The trees around me looked like giants and the wind made the leaves sound like there was people walking around. I felt my bare feet touching the ground that was full of dirt and leaves along with some rocks. I didn't care about being bare foot but what I wanted to know was, why I was in the woods in the middle of the night. I looked around but I couldn't see much but what I could see was shadows running around, as if in circles, surrounding me.

I tried to yell out but no sound came out of my mouth make me close my mouth quickly.  I turned around looking for the shadow that was surrounding me but it would be running faster than I could see or move. I tried to yell again but nothing.

Then I saw a woman, not much older from me but I could tell she wasn't from this century by the way she was dressed. I would ask her who she was but I knew no sound would come out of my mouth.

A horse size black wolf appeared next to her, making me step back but it felt like I didn't move at all.

I just stared at the woman and the wolf until she finally said something.

"You're destined to be with him and he shall mark you and make you his by the next full moon. If not marked by the next full moon you will suffer great consequences."

Those were the last words I heard from her before she disappeared and I heard another voice. A familiar one.

"Valentina!"

"Valentina wake up!"

"Valentina," I felt my body shake and I opened my eyes and look up to see Harry hovering over me. I got scared and tried to back away but stopped. I looked around and saw I was still in the same room but it was hot.

"What's going on?" I asked Harry, looking at him. He looked concern and seemed to relax when he heard me talk.

"You were yelling and I came to check on you but you wouldn't wake up. You seem to be in pre heat or something." I looked at him confused.

"Pre heat? Geez why is it so hot in here?" I pushed Harry away by placing my hand in his bare chest which somehow cooled my hand down. I pulled my hand away from his chest and looked back at him. As if knowing my question he spoke.

"You seem to have started heat way too early. Mates always sleep in the same bed when they first meet in order to prevent this." I still didn't know what he was talking about and before I could say anything else he crawled over me and got in bed with me.

"What are you doing?" I turned around to look at him and saw him facing me, placing an arm around my waist and pulling me to his body.

"You touching my body will cool you down. You just need to touch my skin and connect with my wolf. That's all." I just stared at him but cuddled to his chest when he jesters with his eyes to move closer to him. I didn't fight him because when my cheek touched his chest and my arm touched his torso my body cooled down and I was no longer sweating. I let out a sigh of relief and made myself comfortable in his hold. I felt his body calm down and a small purr come out of his chest.

"Did you just purr?" I glanced up at him but he had his eye closed and gave me a shush. "My wolf is enjoying this. Go to sleep we still have a couple hours to go." I didn't ask any more questions and places my head in his chest and closed my eyes to get some rest for the rest of the night.

---------------------------------------

Oh sweet oh my.  This is the longest I've written. Not gonna lie I liked this chapter. Let's see where this goes. Give me your thoughts.... what do you think about her dream? Or about Harry acting up? His wolf?

Anyways hope you enjoy this and remember to stay inside and be safe. Read some books or write down your thoughts or imaginations.

xx

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@iam-a-painted-whore @heautifulharry @kaepm981 @narcistyles

if you want to be added to the tag list just let me know :)

[ablogcalledrevenge]

Never Really Over

(a Gabriel O’Malley x Reader Insert Multichapter Fic, Rated M)

Chapter Two

You love weddings, love everything about them. You love watching families come together and celebrate the joy of a new union. You love the dancing and the food and dressing up. You love the extravagance of it all. And the Italians knew how to throw an extravagant wedding. Even if it usually ended up looking more ungapatchka than classy.

You’d asked Simone to do something new with your hair for the wedding and the breeze through the shorter tresses felt amazing. You’d still teased and feathered it out but you felt a little better, with your cool style and pretty new dress. You didn’t want anything too crazy, no matter how many times Simone begged to give you bangs. Maybe once the 80s rolled around, you’d take her up on her offer.

The purple maxi dress is light and airy as you walk among the guests at the reception, saying hello to the dozens of family and friends. It had been a while since such a big wedding happened and when your cousin marries the daughter of the Don, it’s gonna be a big affair. Everyone who’s anyone was already here and hoping to be seen. Everyone wanted to give the best gift, make the best impression to the new couple. Speaking of…

“Lisa, oh my god! You look so stunning, you look like a dream.” You say to the bride, kissing her on both cheeks. The veil and long train she sported during the ceremony were gone and she had the telltale flush of happy inebriation. You’d known Lisa since you were both kids, playing together in her father’s backyard and walking around in her mother’s heels. She was known as Little Lisa back then and it makes your throat tight with happiness to see her not so little.

“Thanks (Y/N). I’m just happy to be here, I felt like that ceremony would never end.” She says, both of you laughing in your joy. Your cousin Benji is talking to his groomsmen and when he glances over at you two, his eyes grow impossibly fond. Fuck, what you would give for someone to look at you like that.

“By the way, I heard Gabe’s back. How’s that going?” Lisa asks, raising her dark eyebrow. You scowl and roll your eyes. You haven’t seen him in a week and you’d be happy if that continued.

“Nowhere, that’s where it’s fucking going.” You shoot back, taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. Then Lisa looks over your shoulder and her face turns mischievous. You follow her gaze and groan in realization.

“Really? ‘Cause it looks like he’s here to see you. Seems like it might be going somewhere.” She teases while you down your drink. Handing the glass to her, you square your shoulders and walk towards him.

He’s leaning casually against a tree, smoking a cigarette and looking like a goddamn model. You desperately want to stomp on his foot.

“What the hell are you doing here? You weren’t invited!” You question, feeling more tired than anything else. Gabe opens his mouth, probably to make a smart remark, and then wisely changes tactics.

“I came with Tony. I wanted to see you. I also needed to see the Godfather and I knew he’d be here.” He says quietly, his eyes squinting in the sun.

“Yeah well, you’ve seen me, so scram. I don’t know why you think you can just…” You trail off, his words and their implications sinking into your brain. You stare at him in disbelief.

“Are you fucking mental? You’re gonna ask the Don for a favor? You can’t do that! You can’t give him that power over you.” You whisper angrily. Only desperate men asked the Don for a favor, it was a dangerous thing to do. Sure you got a favor, but so did he. And you couldn’t question it when it came. Gabriel knew this, he saw what happened when favors were called in.

“Nah, it’s just something I have to do. You were right. I can’t get any fucking work out here unless I get in good with the family and this is the way to do it. Trust me, it’s worth it.” He says, pushing off the tree and reaching over to touch your cheek briefly. There’s an air of sadness to the gesture and you swallow down your emotions.

You watch him walk away with Tony and the sudden wave of fear that settles under your skin only slightly overpowers the rush of desire you feel watching him strut across the lawn. 

You walk back to the party in search of another drink. You need it.

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

It’s cool inside the house, family streaming in and out. Gabriel was proud that his hands weren’t sweaty, that they didn’t shake, as he ascended the stairs to the Don’s office. It also helped that Tony was right behind him, providing quiet support like he always did. As simple as this was, it was good to be working together again.

Back before he left, Gabe and Tony were the guys you called when you wanted to take care of things. If someone wasn’t paying, you sent them to get the money and leave a message. If someone was causing trouble, you sent them to make sure they stopped. They made an interesting pair, he had been told. Tony was shorter than him by a few inches but he was thick and broad. He’d been a linebacker in high school and it showed. He could take a beating like no one else and on occasion, his punch could knock a guy’s lights out in one go. But most people would’ve preferred that to having to deal with Gabe.

Gabe may not have been much to contend with physically, other than his height, but he was quick and he was ruthless. The war had changed something in him and it left him detached when it came to violence. He could gut a guy 10 ways to Sunday without batting an eye and if anyone tried to interfere, he’d shoot them too. Most people would rather meet Tony in a dark alley than Gabe. He did his job and it did it well; hopefully that would be enough to help him now.

He enters the dark and smoky office, Tony staying outside. Everyone knew he was coming but he still needed to make a good impression. This was his one chance.

“Hello Godfather, it’s good to see you. You’re looking well.” Gabe says, shaking the older man’s hand. He hasn’t changed at all, still heavyset with salt and pepper hair cut short and slicked back. Same simple but well made suit, nothing fancy but the rings on his fingers. But before Gabe sits down in the offered chair, he turns to the consigliere. If anything, he’s more worried about Jacob Levine than anyone else in the room.

“Hello Zayde, it’s good to see you too. You haven’t changed a bit.” He says, shaking the old man’s hand. He doesn’t get anything back from either men and he sits in the chair. Someone hands him a small glass of cordial.

There is silence for a moment as the men settle and the Don fixes his eyes on Gabe.

“Gabriel O’Malley, I must say it’s a surprise to see you here. It’s been awhile since you left us for New York. And, from what we hear, you didn’t return to us of your own volition. I don’t know whether to call you brave or stupid for coming back here after what you did.” He says, his deep voice steady and clear.

“You know, you got a lot of fucking nerve coming back here after the shit you pulled! You didn’t see the way-” Zayde starts, pointing an angry finger in Gabe’s direction. The Godfather holds up a hand and he shuts up, glaring daggers at Gabe.

“I’m sure Gabriel is aware of the risk he took in coming back. But now that he is here, I’d like to know what he wants.” The Don continues, sitting back in his chair. Gabe takes a fortifying breath.

“I came here to ask for a job. I know it’s been a while and I know everyone is mad at me, but I have nothing. I have two suitcases and a gun and not much else. I need to get back on my feet. I always did good work for you, I was quick and clean wasn’t I? I could do that again. I’ll start at the bottom if you want me too, taking the rough jobs and teaching the newbies. I’m asking for a job and I’m asking for protection.” Gabe says, keeping his emotions in check while the Don listens, stone faced.

“That’s quite a request Gabriel. You’re not wrong, you did good work for me. I remember things like that. But you also left us with no warning or preparation. We let you into our operation Gabriel, and you broke our hearts when you left. Then we hear about New York and Gabriel; that wasn’t a good look for you. Now I consider myself a progressive man, I believe women can do anything they want to. God knows most of them are smarter than us. But women don’t belong in this world Gabriel, you know that. It’s messy and dark and dangerous, I don’t like the women getting involved. So when I hear you’re helping a bunch of women take control of their business, well I have to tell you, I don’t really like that.” The Don lectures with a sigh.

“But, from what I hear, maybe the women should’ve been in charge this whole time. Having you there to protect them was smart and I can respect a man who protects women. But Gabriel, you let them take the Hasidim from the Italians; you let one of them die on the steps outside his store, payis covered in blood. You know we don’t like that, we’re all a family here. So before we continue, I need the truth Gabriel. Did you kill that man?” Don Rossi asks, gaze turning fierce and getting up from his desk.

Gabriel shakes his head. “No Godfather, I would never.” It’s technically the truth and no one would be saying otherwise. Zayde seemed to relax a little from his spot on a couch.

“So,” The Don continues, looking out his office window at his daughter’s wedding, “why should I let you back in?”

“I left for New York because they were in trouble and they were my flesh and blood. I had to go and help them. You taught me how important family was and it seemed like the right thing to do. I know I disrespected everyone with the way I left but I had to rush to Midtown to help Cathy and the girls. But while I was there, I noticed some things and I remembered some things. When I left New York the first time, it was because I ran into some trouble with the cops. I got in trouble with the cops because the guys out there didn’t protect me. They treated me like a machine. They treated me like I was expendable, which maybe I was, but it’s not a good way to feel about yourself. Instead of helping me after the war, they kept me in that mindset. I was mindlessly killing and going insane. I was going insane Godfather. Then I came out here and I was terrified. You would’ve had every right to ignore me or kill me just for being Irish, but instead you took me in. You gave me a place to stay and good food in my belly. You taught me what family really meant. I knew I was safe with you. I felt like I was an important part of the business, like I was needed.” Gabe says, drinking his sweet cordial with a soft smile. 

“I guess I could’ve gone anywhere after Cathy kicked me out. I could’ve gone upstate or to Boston. I could’ve gone to Iowa and become a peanut farmer. But I didn’t feel safe; I was afraid. I needed my family again. I know I’m going to have to work really hard to prove to you that I’m here to stay, but I’ll do whatever you need me to. I was stupid for leaving the way I did, I was stupid for leaving at all. I thought I was doing the right thing. Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t. But all I know is that the whole time I was out there, I wanted to come home. Home to this family and this place.” Gabe finishes, praying to God he doesn’t start crying.

The Don nods his head in understanding, tapping his chin with a finger. He glances over at Zayde who gets up from the couch and approaches Gabriel.

“What about (Y/N)?” The consigliere asks, lips going tight.

“That’s the other reason. I know I messed things up with her and I want to apologize. I want to make things right. Even if she never wants to have anything to do with me again, I want to at least show her how sorry I am. She never deserved a lousy guy like me but I figured that the least I could do was try to make things better. I know I hurt her badly Zayde, and I regret everything I did to make her feel that way.” Gabe offers focusing on the man in front of him, your grandfather. The Don leaves the window and comes around his desk.

“You’re a good boy Gabriel, I always thought that. So I’m going to give you a job. There’s this Hollywood bigshot who’s causing trouble with the unions, I’ll send you to deal with him. Zayde will give you the details.” The Don says, extending his hand.

Gabriel kisses the gold ring with gratitude and respect, the older man’s hand turning in his grip to rest on his cheek.

“Thank you Godfather, I won’t let you down. Whatever you need, I’ll do it. I won’t disappoint you again.” Gabe says, full of relief and something approaching joy. The Don smiles down at him.

“I know you won’t Gabriel, I’m glad you’re back. We all are.” He says, slapping Gabe’s face once before pulling him up off the chair.

Laughing wetly, Gabe nods and pulls out an envelope of cash and offers it to Don Rossi.

“Here, for your daughter. It’s a beautiful wedding, and I wish them every happiness.”

The Don gives a rueful grin and takes the envelope, shooing Gabe out of the room. Before he crosses the threshold, he hears his name from the older man.

“Just promise me that you’ll work things out with (Y/N). She’s a nice girl Gabriel, make things right.” Is what he says, but the warning is implicitly clear. Zayde’s raised eyebrow guarantees it.

“If she’ll have me Godfather, I’ll spend the rest of my life making her feel like a queen.” Gabe shoots back with a grin.

“Get outta here you beanstalk, go get some food and dance.” The Don chides, waving an affectionate hand in Gabe’s direction and kicking him out for good. The door closes and he lets out a huge breath, the tension leaving him.

He needs a drink and he needs a dance, preferably with you.

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

You’ve been pacing the small stone patio that led into the house the whole time Gabe and Tony were up there. To be honest it wasn’t even the Godfather’s reaction that you were most worried about, it was your grandpa’s. When they finally come back outside, you attempt to screw your face into something calmer but your bitten lip and clasped hands probably reveal your worry. Gabe sees you and breaks out into a big grin.

Letting out a whoop of happiness, you rush into his arms and he spins you around in glee.

“I’m back baby, they took me back!” He cheers, taking your face in his hands and kissing your forehead. You laugh and hug him tightly before remembering everything and pushing him away with a scoff. Tony smirks as he walks past you towards the party.

There’s a brief moment where you and Gabe just stare at each other in the bright sunshine. It seems like all you do nowadays is look at each other. A lot of the stress he seemed to be carrying was gone and he looked relaxed; that was good. The sun makes his hair shine like copper and his suit fits beautifully on his lean frame. It’s a great suit, dark blue linen with a light blue tie and-

“Is that the suit I bought you?” You ask, stepping closer to him to inspect the suit. You run your fingers down the lapel and across his shoulders. Gabriel flushes and looks at your hands.

“Yeah it is. Best suit I’ve ever worn, fits like nothing else. But you’ve always had a good eye for that sort of thing. I was afraid it wouldn’t fit but it looks good, right? First time I’ve ever worn it.” He says incredulously. You look up at him, which is a mistake. Those green-blue eyes arrest you and you forget how to breathe for a moment.

“You didn’t wear it in…?” You ask, refusing to finish the sentence. He shakes his head.

“Nah, didn’t feel right too. The first time you wear a suit shouldn’t be to a funeral and I wanted to save it for something special. You got it for me, it deserved a grand reveal. Now come on, let’s dance.” He says quietly, pulling you towards the large open dance floor. Elvis Presley’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love” is being sung by the Italian bandleader and you give Gabriel a withering look. But you still join him because you’re weak.

Gabe’s hand settles on your lower back as you sway with all the other couples. You forgot how nice it was to dance with someone. You haven’t danced in a long time. His cheek rests against your forehead and you hear him hum along to the words.

“You look beautiful (Y/N), that’s a great dress. You always look so good, you know that? Fuck I’m glad I’m back.” He mumbles into your skin, breath warm and smelling like the sweet cordial the Don liked. You step closer to him and close your eyes, letting yourself be a little pathetic.

“I guess, I guess I’m glad you’re back too. I’m glad they gave you a job. But don’t think just because we’re dancing, that everything’s fine. You’re a pain in my ass and I still hate your stupid face. But I’m glad you’re back. I missed you Gabe.” You whisper into his neck and his arm wraps tighter around you. The song has changed, it’s something faster and lighter but neither of you stop dancing.

You just stay in your corner enjoying the sunshine, the good music, and each other.

Chapter Three Coming Soon...

Tagging: @babbushka​, @theold-ultraviolence, @stylelovechild​, @niniita-ah

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters.

[ashtheshortstack]

On the Other Side

Kristanna Week 2020 @kristannaweek​ Rating: T Ship: Kristoff/Anna Day 4: Green

Tags: Modern AU, Heated Smooching & Cheesy Fluff

Read on AO3

The grass was soft under her skin, sun warming her in its rays. It wasn’t often she got time to herself like this between her job and college. Her boyfriend often did what he could to help her relax, but Kristoff could only do so much for her on a day to day basis with his own job. 

It was a rarity that she really got to enjoy the large, grassy plain behind her home. It was a nice contrast to the prestigious gated house she lived in. Not that she complained about the mansion she lived in--she never wanted for anything. But sometimes… taking a moment with nature was better than having things. She couldn’t take that big house with her when left the earth, but she could take the memories and appreciation of her surroundings. 

“Hey, you.” 

Anna jumped at the voice. Tilting her head back in the grass, she looked up at the shadow blocking her sun. “Hey, Kris! What’re you doing here?” 

Smiling, he shrugged and took a seat next to her. “Elsa told me you were out here. Took me a while to find you.” 

She sat up next to him, thrilled to see him. “What’re you doing here? I thought you had work today.” 

“Pabbie let me off early,” he replied with an amused grin as he plucked a blade of grass from her hair. 

Humming, Anna picked at the grass. “That was nice of him.” 

“Yeah. Said I’ve been working too hard. Gave me tomorrow off too.” 

Anna gaped. “Wait, really? I don’t have work tomorrow either. So… Maybe we could go do something?” 

He nodded, smirking at her. “Sounds good to me.” 

Anna was giddy at the news. It’d been so long since she and Kristoff had had a date night. That was wonderful! She couldn’t contain her excitement. 

She hugged his arm, leaning her head onto his shoulder, beaming like a fool knowing that she got to spend the next day with him. And however long they had today. It wasn’t often they got to really see one another two days in a row. She loved him so much. Every moment with him was a blessing. 

“It’s really beautiful out here,” she mused. 

He hummed in agreement, pressing his cheek to her crown. “Even more so since you’re out here.” 

Anna couldn’t stop the smile from spreading along with lips as she giggled. “That was cheesy, and you know it.” 

“Doesn’t make it wrong.” 

Snorting, she moved quickly. She hitched a leg around his hips, sitting in his lap before shoving him back into the grass. “You better be careful flirting like that. I may have to do something drastic.” 

“Shoving me into the grass is drastic?” 

“Making out in my backyard where my sister could easily catch us is a bit adventurous, right?” 

Kristoff barked a laugh. “This is the saddest attempt of exhibitionism ever.” 

She smacked his chest. “Shut up,” she pouted. 

That smirk was still etched on his lips. The one that drove her insane. The one that made her want him so much.   

“You could make me.” 

And she did. 

Anna met his lips in a kiss. His hands immediately found purchase on her: one buried in her auburn tresses and the other on her hip. He squeezed her gently, the pressure sending shivers down her spine at his touch. 

Their little escapade didn’t progress past heavy, heated smooching and a bit of rubbing against one another. Anna was far too timid to try to get her boyfriend naked outside in the broad daylight. Her heart swelled when she was with him. Kristoff made her excited. Made her want to spend every single day by his side. It was exciting to be with him like this. Not because of the possible thrill of being caught--she’d hate that. Not because they were outside and the weather was perfect and the foliage surrounding them was beautiful… but because it was Kristoff. Because he was there. 

And she didn’t regret a moment with him. 

Well… except for maybe when they returned inside… and Elsa questioned the green stains, swollen lips, and blades of grass in their hair.

[ngame989]

“Change” - TGG SVTFOE Fanfic Collection Ch. 3

Writing: @ngame989​​

Art: @toxicpsychox​​ (make sure to follow him for bonus pics from the story!)

Editing: @bmc-nightfury​​, @seddm​​

Alternate fic links - FFnet, AO3

Summary: Star, Marco, Tom, and Janna celebrate Earthni's first Halloween and get a taste of what life's like for the rest of its inhabitants.

Comic Page

Masterpost

See below for the text, hope you enjoy! Sorry for the delay, we’ll be back in a few days with the comic page!

Flying was one of the most exhilarating feelings for Marco Diaz. He flung his arms out to the side, letting the wind ripple around and through his hair, his face, and the open front of his hoodie. With a world this beautiful and vast, who even needs the hoodie, anyway? It’s just weighing him down, preventing him from truly feeling as free as he knows he can be. He shifted positions, dramatically discarding the hoodie and feeling the crisp autumn air on his upper body through only the thin grey t-shirt. Suddenly it struck him: how exactly was he flying without Nach-

“Pfffthbtbt, Marco, what the heck?!? You got hoodie stuck in my teeth!”

Marco tried to glance at the familiar voice that interrupted his thoughts, but he was blinded by the sun gleaming in the purple sky. His arms instinctively were brought up to shield his vision. Wait, Marco realized, hadn’t he been holding on to something? Panic set in, both at the feeling of losing something important and at not even being able to recall what it was. It was uncanny, the moments he’d just experienced felt as vague and distant as anything he’d experienced in the Neverzone...

The view of the stunning Earthni landscape beneath him was obscured by a massive dangling ribbon in front of him, disrupting his contemplation. It was utterly tantalizing, almost demanding his attention. He shifted positions, reaching forward as far as he could to catch it, tugging the ribbon to his body and wrapping himself up in it, nestling deeper into his fabric cocoon and feeling briefly at ease. Wait, where exactly was he again? Something felt off, but the unnerving thought dissipated entirely once more at the soft touch on his head. Two large fingers tousled his hair to and fro, giving him a sense of contentment he didn’t know was possible. A glance skyward revealed the face of a giant Star Butterfly towering over him with a soft smile as she pet his head in the safety of a pocket sewn into her narwhal dress. Did that dress even have a pocket? And how was he here? Why was Star so big? As his mind sluggishly tried to work out what wasn’t gelling about the whole situation, his gaze followed their ribbon higher and higher until it finally reached the red balloon guiding them through the sky.

“OK, Marco, payback time!” she shouted with glee, flicking her head and whipping a tuft of flowing golden hair directly into his face.

“Bleh, Star, your hair… ptooey, Star, your hair is in my mouth… Get it out… Star? Star! Star!”

…

His eyes snapped open, senses on high alert, rapidly regaining his full cognitive faculties. He felt a light sheet draped on top of him; he was in bed, in his pajamas, with no hoodie or jeans in sight. Something large was still wrapped in his arms, but this time there was a warmth and softness that invited him to snuggle in deeper. The last thing he noticed is that his face was still completely buried in blonde tresses, and it all clicked.

“Thanks Roy, these goblin dogs zzz are absolutely zzz deliiiiiicioooouuus zzzzzzzzz”

“Star...”

“Why yes, I would like to try strawberry-flavored zzzzzzz”

“Staaaaaaar… wake up. It’s almost...” He tried and failed to peek around the veritable curtain in his face. “I don’t actually know what time it is, but we should still get up, today’s the day!”

“Totally, totally, totally, just 5 more minutes, Marco… 5 more hours…”

Marco sighed and lifted his head, freeing his face from the hairific onslaught and sighing into the crook of her neck. The leftover hint of strawberry shampoo danced through his nose, infatuating him as he pulled Star closer and felt the silky fabric of her gown softly graze his hands. She laughed and cast aside her favorite teal pillow with a heart she had been holding, gripping his arms instead, both enjoying each other’s company and affection - a fairly common occurrence these days.

Three months of this kind of paradise. Well, close to it, anyway; that first night on Earthni had been a one-off incident at the time, but it still hadn’t been long until unintentional movie marathon naps became slightly less unintentional and eventually moved to the comfort of one of their beds altogether, allowing them to spend nights in each other’s arms and sleep in at their leisure. And why not? They had all the time in the world. Marco was technically done with high school, and Star certainly wasn’t that upset that there wasn’t a fully integrated school system for Earthni quite yet. Besides, formalized education wasn’t much of a thing on Mewni anyway, and she wasn’t a “foreign exchange student” bound by Echo Creek’s norms anymore in this new world of theirs. They’d answered a few questions to the public about the Cleaving and spent a bit of time in the limelight, of course, but otherwise they were finally free of the burdens that had been on their shoulders for most of the time they’d known each other. It was the summer vacation they’d longed for, even though the season had passed them by long ago.

Suddenly, a knock at his door interrupted their bliss. “Star, Marco! Lunch is almost ready!” Angie sing-songed through his door. That woke both of them up - not because his mother had caught them innocently canoodling the night away, as that boat had sailed a while ago with a fairly predictable acceptance (though not without some teasing), but because lunch? How long had they slept in? Star bumped into Marco’s forehead when she bolted upright, startling him so much that he backed up off the bed into a heap on the floor.

“Marco! Gosh, Marco, I’m sorry-”

“M’okay,” he groaned, letting her help him uncrumple his body and stand up straight. They scrambled around the room to gather the discarded boxes of Sugar Seeds from the night before and shared their usual quick good morning kiss before splitting off to get ready for the big day ahead of them. Ten minutes later, Star emerged from her room with one of her older dresses, sky blue with two belts minus the fuzzy leg warmers, and skipped over to the stairs to slide down the railing into the dining room where Marco was already seated. Angie brought turkey sandwiches on the table.

“Good morning, you two. Sleep well?”

“We were up waaaay too late marathoning the new season of Fiesta de la Noche. I think it was the Sugar Seeds, please never buy the ‘Oops! All Corn Syrup!’ flavor again.” Marco winced at the lingering stomach pain.

“It’s sugar made from corn, why would you ever think I wouldn’t buy it?” Star scolded, adding some table sugar from the shaker the Diazes had repurposed for Star (leading to a few accidentally ruined dinners in the first week) to the fruit salad on the plate.

He playfully rolled his eyes and dug into his meal. “So, mom, where’s dad?” he mumbled out between bites.

“BOO!” No one even flinched at Rafael’s entrance from the back door.

Marco groaned. “Dad, are you trying to scare everyone again this year?”

“Haha, no, Marco. Last year I thought, ‘Why go for scary when nothing could ever top a hungering spirit almost devouring your loved ones, sending you into a manic frenzy?’ But then a lightbulb struck me on the head: I can simply bring joy and happiness instead of reopening the wounds of the most traumatic night of my life, haha!” Marco vacantly boggled at his father for a few silent moments, trying and failing to find any possible words in response, but there was no need as Rafael spoke up again. “Oh, and River is helping too!”

As if on cue, Star’s dad barreled through the back door dripping sweat. “I’m a riot with the youngsters, this will be a blast! Rafael, my good man, thank you so much for inviting me to participate in your culture’s festivities. Now how far would you like the catapult to fire the children?”

Rafael nervously chuckled as he lead River out the back door; the families got along swimmingly, but it was clear that neither had fully adjusted to every idiosyncrasy of the other. Marco and Star, having just finished the last of their lunches, followed out the back door and gaped at the spectacle. A giant corn maze occupied at least half of the massive property the Diazes now occupied, catapults of varying sizes had been built with landing pads, a few carnival-looking booths stocked with buckets of candy were set up with games Marco didn’t even recognize, and it was all topped off with decorative ghouls and skeletons scattered all around. The teens’ eyes bugged out of their heads as they processed the scene. How the heck did they sleep through the assembly of all of this? An instantly recognizable revving sound approached from the side; Marco’s eyes lit up as he ran over and gave his favorite dragon-cycle a big hug.

“Oh, Boo-Boo, good to see you!” he cooed, affectionately stroking her scaly head while she purred. A few weeks ago, she spotted him by chance in Monstertown while they were helping Eclipsa finish up some new housing, and after a tearful reunion the Diazes (who were a bit apprehensive upon finally learning what a dragon-cycle actually was) had built a stable in their backyard for her. She came and went as she pleased, but was more than happy to ride with Marco like they always had, occasionally with Star in tow.

Rafael approached and tentatively patted her on the head once, which caused her to defensively nuzzle into Marco. “By the way, Nachos asked if she could help us tonight with the Halloween chicanery and maybe give the kids some little joyrides… if that is OK with you.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet of you, girl!” Marco cooed. River hollered excitedly at Star and Rafael to show them his latest contraption, leaving Marco alone with his companion. His warm gaze turned steely in an instant as he knelt to the ground, looking directly into pink reptilian pupils of his dearest dragon-cycle.

“Thanks for doing this for me, Nachos, I owe you one. Remember the plan, OK? Keep an eye on them and keep everyone in one piece. You have my number if anything goes wrong, right?” She matched his serious demeanor and nodded sternly, at which he softened and kissed her on the forehead before scratching that spot on her neck that she always enjoyed. “I can always count on you, girl.” He stood up quickly to prevent any suspicion when he heard Star chatting to their dads as they approached the house once more.

“OK, dad, try not to have too much fun tonight. Last Halloween I was here, everyone almost got eaten.”

“No promises, sweetie!”

Star waved goodbye with a cheery grin before turning to Marco, eyes widening while maintaining the grin for an exaggeratedly concerned effect. Marco snickered and took her hand, heading back inside the house for their next mission. With all the shenanigans going on tonight, everyone decided it was best for Mariposa to not be in the house, so Star had volunteered to take her with them tonight, which meant she’d need a costume. The pair split apart to gather their supplies for the task. Star took a quick peek into the nursery and found Marco’s angel of a baby sister fast asleep in her crib, fortunately not disturbed by all the happenings around the house. Star went into Marco’s room and cleared off the floor for them to work, mere seconds before a big ball of purple fluff barged through the door.

“Can you believe that girl at the fabric store?” the bundle scoffed, revealing itself to be Marco after unceremoniously dumping piles of fabric and sewing supplies on the ground. “How can you not tell the difference between lavender and heliotrope? It’s so obvious! Even with the swatches from Turdina I’m still not sure if these are the right colors, and I will not settle for anything less than perfection for my little Turdinita-”

“OK, Marco,” Star huffed out. Like everything he did, it was still cute when he entered diva mode, but it was still near the top of the annoyance list. She rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him downwards and pecking him on the lips - mostly to shut him up - before putting a finger on his chest and pushing him onto his bottom in front of her. “Let’s get this done, OK? I know that you and Tom are gonna take, like, an hour on the makeup for your costumes.”

“Our trial run clocked in at 44 minutes sharp,” he retorted with a smirk, laying the sewing pattern out to start arranging the fabric. Minutes turned to hours as they toiled away, carefully picking out the colors and textures from the vast selection of cloth Marco had procured. Star was no slouch at the craft - she had decorated Marco’s cape by hand, after all - but every time she glanced over at Marco pouring his entire self into every thread and sequin, she couldn’t help but smile.

Marco carefully balanced a pin between his teeth, holding it up to make sure the design was coming together, then put it down to see Star dreamily staring at him. “Uh, Star? Is something up?”

“N-nothing,” she stammered in response, preparing the accessories for the finishing touches.

“Hey, I just realized… you still haven’t even told me what your costume is yet!” He handed the fabric over to her to begin cleaning up the massive mess of scrap around his person.

“I did tell you it’s a surprise, and I’m sticking to that! You and Tom went all gung-ho on the whole ‘bullfighting’ thing from the beginning. A girl’s gotta have her secrets, Diaz!”

“OK, OK,” he held up his hands in surrender, “I’m sure it will be amazing. Anyway, how does the dress look?”

Star scooted over beside him and held up the frilly purple outfit in front of them, flipping it over and around to get the full view. “Looks like a job well done to me!”

Marco’s eyes glistened at the sight. This whole thing had been his idea, wanting to make his baby sister’s first Halloween something special even if she wouldn’t remember it (there would be ample photographic evidence, his parents would make sure of that). But in some way it was also his way of commemorating his old life and what they’d left behind. Although Star had perhaps been the most dramatically affected by the Cleaving, losing the magic she’d known all her life, he had his own friends and adventures across the multiverse too. Earthni was special in its own unique way, and he certainly wouldn’t trade it for anything, but he didn’t want to forget the parts of his life he’d left behind. Shutting his eyelids and taking a deep breath and feeling a bit of moisture squeeze out, he wrapped an arm around Star, pulling her into his side. “Thanks for helping me with this, you didn’t have to-”

“Marco, you know I’d do anything for Mariposa. And it’s fun just spending time making stuff together!”

“We are pretty good at this, aren’t we?”

“Eh, I’d give it a passing grade.” Marco and Star jumped to their feet striking a tag team battle pose in the direction of the unforeseen intruder... and found Janna sitting on Marco’s bed, surfing something on her phone which was rested on Star’s pillow without so much as looking at them in acknowledgment.

“Janna!?” Marco asked incredulously. “Wait, shouldn’t you be in school?”

“I told them I was half-demon after the whole Severing Stone thing and they ate that riiiight up, so I’m exempt from human school now.” He could do nothing but blink in disbelief. “Anyway, on my way over I saw your dads with both their shirts off for some reason and I really didn’t feel like dealing with that so I just snuck in through the window. Oh, and I brought Meteora, too.”

“Wait, what? Where is she then?”

“On your head.”

Marco looked up and saw Meteora clinging to the ceiling before staring directly down at him and dive bombing, taking them both to the floor and giggling at his expense. Star helped him up and took the baby from him, calming her relatively easily by virtue of not being Marco Diaz.

“OK, but Eclipsa didn’t tell us about this! Why do you even have her?”

“Look, guys, it’s not a huge deal. She needed some help this morning and your parents told her you two were ‘busy’,” she said, holding up the pillow in one hand with the air quotes, “so she called me instead. Some monsters were, I dunno, worried about Halloween a bit or something and Eclipsa was dealing with that but still wanted Meteora to go trick or treating.”

“So you’re saying that Eclipsa wants Mariposa to bring her back a lot of chocolate.”

“Bingo.”

Star pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. “OK, fine, whatever. What’s this about being worried about Halloween?”

Janna shrugged her shoulders impassionately. “The whole schtick of Halloween is using the idea of monsters to try and scare people, and they’re a bunch of monsters who don’t want to be seen as scary.” She stood up and tossed her phone up and down a few times before slotting it into her pocket and finally addressing Star and Marco directly. “Whole thing’s a load of crud if you ask me, I’m totally down with monstery quirks. Plus you wouldn’t have to worry about costumes! Like, look at the munchkin there, she’s got pointed ears and a tail. It’s already better than anything I ever went trick-or-treating in.”

Meteora briefly stirred, as if picking up on the talk about her, and Star motioned everyone to the door with her head. The trio moved into the nursery quietly to put Meteora in the guest crib they kept around for her frequent visits, then went downstairs to continue their conversation.

“I mean… it can’t be that big of a deal, right? Costume parties were a thing on Mewni, too, and not everyone who showed up was a Mewman. I doubt it will be perfect, but everyone’s been getting along pretty well so far!” Star said with some emphatic hand-waving.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Marco responded. Admittedly, Marco wasn’t entirely sure. The residents of Echo Creek were generally pretty accepting, in his own experience, but it was never a certainty. Tensions could linger for a while unseen, and one could never know exactly when they’d boil over. But being with Star had taught him a lot about trying to see the best in the world, and he found himself able to share the overall feeling of optimism.

“Plus, I don’t think any kids are gonna climb all the stairs to the Temple,” Janna chimed in from the couch.

“That too,” Marco replied without looking away from Star. “It’s our first big holiday together, and- and I just want this night to be about us having a blast with all our friends and getting a whole truckload of candy!” he yelled triumphantly, taking Star’s hand. Her shining ocean pools focused entirely on him and blazed with the same determination he had.

“I’d tell you two to get a room, but...”

Marco’s eyes went wide as he blushed, causing Star to finally end their moment of emotional vulnerability with a contagious laugh (and light blush of her own) that Marco quickly joined. Once it subsided, Star took Marco’s other hand in hers. “Yeah, you’re right. Hopefully nothing too unexpected hap-”

The front door violent opened with a burst of flame and smoke entering through. Marco shrieked and leapt in fright, being caught and cradled by Star. What could possibly have done such a thing?

“Hey guys, how’s it hanging?”

Oh. That’s what. “Hey Tom,” Marco sighed out, hopping down from Star’s arms as the smoke cleared from his dramatic entrance and Tom closed the door behind him.

“Am I, uh, interrupting something?”

“Marco got freaked out when you burst open the door,” Janna ever-so-helpfully provided.

Tom raised an eyebrow at Marco judgmentally. “You’ve lived with Star for years, come on, dude.”

“I’m not on guard for it when she’s directly next to me!” he cried defensively with his voice cracking, extending his arms in her direction to punctuate his statement. “Anyway, Tom, you ready for the big night?”

“You know I am,” the half-demon responded, meeting Marco in the center of the room for a high-five. “Alright, we should get costumes ready. We’ll be in Marco’s room if you need us.” As they ascended the stairs, Marco caught Janna making some sort of comment about to Star about “stealing your man” - he shouldn’t have expected much different. As soon as they got into his room, he went into his closet to gather all their costume pieces as Tom shut the door. “I can’t believe you humans basically have a giant costume party once a year where everyone gets candy. I could probably, like, just walk around like normal and it would still count. That’s too cool.”

Marco sat them both down on his bed and began to wipe his face off. “Eh, it’s pretty tame usually. Two years ago, Star and Janna summoned a ghost that ate everyone and my dad had to wrestle it to get everyone back. The inside of his belly smelled like licorice, it was awful. But it was an interesting Halloween.”

“Hungry Larry?” Marco assented while beginning the first layer of foundation. Tom laughed and held Marco’s arms at bay while he regained his composure. “Not a demon curse, but I’m familiar. Of course it was those two. OK, man, you can’t tell me funny stories like that, we’ve gotta get this done and we don’t need any distractions.” Marco nodded, always happy to see someone share his dedication to the craft. Foundation, then outlines, then filling in with white… the process stretched on for minutes as the basic design became evident. He sat back to observe it from multiple angles. While Marco switched brushes to begin the detailing, Tom spoke up once more. “I’ll be honest, man, I was kinda surprised about this. Figured you and Star would do a couple costume or something.”

“This idea was too good to pass up, though. Plus, I thought it’d be cool to do something like this with you! I mean, you are one of my best friends,” Marco rubbed the back of his neck, realizing too late that he had had a bit of white face paint on his hand.

“Well, it’s super cool, so thanks.”

Once Marco put the finishing touches on, he held up a mirror for Tom. The reflection showed his face transformed into a skull with ornate patterns everywhere. When Marco had come up with the idea for bullfighting costumes, Tom had been pretty disturbed by the fact that the bulls were killed. Marco had to admit it was pretty cruel, but after learning about Día de los Muertos, Tom suggested an Underworld-themed bullfight (where the bulls were already dead). Tom offered a fist-bump which Marco proudly accepted, and then the two switched places to begin the process all over again.

As Tom reached over to grab the makeup, his eyes lingered on the pillow with a heart at the head of Marco’s bed. His eyes darted back and forth between the pillow, all three eyes widening. Marco followed his train of thought and- oh no. “Tom, it’s not what you think-”

Tom raised his hands defensively. “Dude, I won’t judge.”

Marco sighed. What did he do to deserve this all in one day? “It’s not like that- OK, it’s not like that that, just… yeah.”

Minutes ticked on in silence while the steps were redone on Marco’s own face. Foundation, white paint, highlights… It was only when Tom got to the final ornate decals that Tom spoke back up again after sketching the outline on Marco’s face. “For the record, I know we haven’t really talked about it much but when I told you I was cool with you two getting together, I wasn’t just bottling stuff up or anything, OK? Yeah, breakups suck, but I’m pretty sure after a day or so my mom was taking it harder than me,” he chuckled with a toothy grin. “I know we haven’t, like, talked about it much since then, but you two are perfect for each other. I’m happy that you’re happy, dude, and more importantly I’m happy with myself too.” Words stopped once more as Tom focused to finish the pattern, showing Marco his own face in the mirror much to his delight. Everything came together flawlessly, and even faster than they’d anticipated. Marco breathed a sigh of relief at still managing to accomplish everything they needed to before trick-or-treating officially began. Part of that relief, he had to admit, was due to Tom’s words as well. Of course he didn’t think Tom resented him or anything, but knowing that they weren’t just “cool” but completely free of any potential past baggage felt like a weight off his shoulders. Marco leaned in and gave Tom a one-armed hug, clapping him on the back. “I take it you’re happy with the makeup job?” Tom joked.

“Well, your contouring is flawless. But it was mostly for the other stuff.”

“Anytime, man,” Tom responded, punching his shoulder lightly with a smile.

“Alright, costume time.”

***

“Star, seriously, do I have to do this?”

“Trick-or-treating starts in a few minutes, so too late nooo-oow!” Star sing-songed, bouncing over to the top of the stairs. “Are you boys down there?”

“Yeah,” she heard both Tom and Marco reply from the living room downstairs.

“Alright, Janna, it’s showtime!” Star grabbed her hesitant friend by the wrist and practically dragged her down the stairs. “Introduciiiiiiiing… Starberry!” She twirled in place once for effect, showing off her full body strawberry suit complete with themed headband and boots, then pulled Janna out from behind her, who had her hand on her forehead. “And Janna Banana!” She’d begrudgingly put on the main banana costume but had vehemently declined to wear the rest of the ensemble Star had picked out for her, sticking with her normal outfit instead, which Star was willing to accept.

Marco and Tom stared wide-eyed for a moment, turning to each other, then the girls, then to each other again, then back to the girls, mouths agape.

“How… what… wuh…” they both stammered incoherently, before bursting into raucous laughter, holding onto each other just to stay standing.

“God this is stupid,” Janna grumbled under her breath.

Star waited until they were done before explaining herself. “OK, so remember that night at D&D where Janna bet me I couldn’t beat the cyclops horde and I did?”

“You were only able to do that because you, and I quote, ‘rolled for cuteness check’ so they’d adopt you instead and Ferguson allowed it for some reason.”

“Well, maybe it’s because my character is incredibly cute!”

“Your character is just an elvish Marco.”

“Exactly. Anyway, since you guys were already doing your own thing for Halloween, I thought Janna and I would, too! Fruit Friends!” Star shrilled, hugging Janna and wiggling her back and forth.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Well, you both look great,” Marco giggled, walking over and flicking the strawberries on Star’s headband. “Where did you get this?”

“Dad helped me make it. He’s surprisingly good at arts and crafts. You two look pretty nice yourself.”

“Thanks. Tom wouldn’t wear the rest of the costume, though, but it’s still OK.”

“I’m not wearing a full body fursuit, Marco. But I can definitely do that thing bulls do in cartoons,” he coolly smirked, before blowing a puff of smoke with a bit of flame from his nostrils. Tom had a large nose ring and a bushy tip on top of his tail, but otherwise was wearing a pretty standard dark jacket on top of a maroon button-up shirt with dark slacks.

Star turned back to her boyfriend, looking his flashy getup up and down. “You look pretty nice yourself, Diaz,” she crooned playfully. “Although you missed out on the opportunity to be Mango Diaz for the night, bub.” The skull-themed makeup was absolutely divine, as she expected from the boys - they were frankly better at it than her. The ornate gold decorations all over the jacket and high-waisted pants looked sharp on top of the red base, and she was never one to complain about a nice white dress shirt and black tie, either. “Heh, I don’t want to mess up the makeup but-”

Marco cut her off with a brief kiss, taking her by pleasant surprise, and when her eyes fluttered back open he gave her a half-lidded stare and a smug grin. “Don’t worry, we used sealer.”

Janna moaned at the couple and slumped onto the couch. “Let’s just go get candy already.”

“Are you kids leaving soon?” Rafael poked him head out from the kitchen, making a comical “oh” face upon seeing all the costumes. “Darling, come look at how wonderful these costumes are!”

Angie quickly joined with the babies in tow, oohing and aahing over all the outfits. “Let’s get a quick picture before you leave, shall we?” The babies crawled over to the teens as they struck a pose for the camera. Her best friends - well, besides Ponyhead, who had blown them off for a special edition of her show tonight - all together having fun on holidays? It was exactly the life she’d been wanting for herself for a while. Stump Day was the last time they’d done anything like that, and even then it was riddled with strife and tension, but it filled her with a genuine warmth to know this would be the norm now. Or maybe that was just the not-that-breathable costume. Tom let out a yelp when Mariposa tugged on his tail, clapping in glee at the response.

“Guess that’s our signal to go,” he said in a strained voice, scooping up Mariposa and handing her to Marco who had just put on his baby carrier before she could pull at the nose ring. Meteora, meanwhile, seemed content to nest in the leaves of her strawberry outfit. They all grabbed their bags and headed out the door.

The night started off fairly uneventful; they collected candy going door to door, and most of the Echo Creek residents were quite impressed by the costumes and especially by Tom’s pyrotechnics. They passed a few monster families wandering around - her favorite was a centipede-looking monster that had an elaborate assembly of dolls mounted onto her body to make it look like a bunch of humans in a conga line. Once they had stopped at every house in the immediate neighborhood, their bags were fairly full already, so they decided to take some time and go explore looking for decorations for a while before stuffing their bags to capacity too early. The group headed towards some of the more blended areas of the merged town (still colloquially referred to as Echo Creek by most of the population) to see how all the different groups were celebrating the spooky festivities. Star and Marco were walking hand-in-hand with the babies in their care, just taking in the sights and enjoying the company, while Tom and Janna were chatting beside Marco.

“Janna, I’m telling you, that isn’t a real thing!”

“C’mon now Tom, I have three different necronomicons that reference it.”

“Grandpa Relicor goes on for hours about curses at every single family dinner and he’s never mentioned anything that could turn a human inside out.”

“Maybe he’s keeping it for himself. Did you ever think of that?”

“I’m sorry that I don’t think about turning humans inside out all that often! Look, we can just head to his library sometime and- wait, hold on. Star, isn’t this where we got kidnapped that one time?”

Star snapped out of her daze and looked around; they were in the old monster village! Star had been so busy during the last stretch of her time on Mewni that she hadn’t even gotten to visit it once some of the monster families came back, and Buff Frog had come over to visit them a few times on Earthni but she hadn’t been sure exactly where his home was. She motioned for the group to follow her while she looked for the right hut… There! They walked up to the door and knocked.

“Go away! We do not want any!”

“Buff Frog, it’s me!”

The door flung open and Star was immediately swept up into a giant bear hug. “Star Butterfly, my little sweet potato! It has been so long! Come in, all of you. What brings you to my home, and why are dressed like weird red plant with many eyes?”

“It’s Halloween, we’re trick-or-treating!”

“What is this ‘Halloween’ of which you speak?”

This caught Star off-guard. It had been posted all over town and in the newspapers, hadn’t it? After all, there were plenty of monsters she’d seen celebrating tonight already.

“Um, well, it’s an Earth holiday where people put on costumes and walk around to other people’s houses, and those other people give them candy!”

“Ah, so that explains mysterious children at door all night. I hide in home. Many not seem happy when I am not giving them things. This also why tadpoles go with friends wearing peculiar clothing. I understand all now.”

“Out of curiosity, Buff Frog, why didn’t you know?”

“I am needing help to read fancy Earth papers, text too small for eyes. Children try to show me this ‘internal net’ of yours for video, but I do not like. They teenagers now, do not talk to old man about life,” he sighed mournfully. “Is OK. We begin Halloween now. Who want swamp grass? Is favorite treat, but I happily give to my good friends.”

“Thanks Buff Frog, but uh, I think we’re good,” Marco said, making a quick face of disgust.

“Whatwuzzat?” Tom mumbled through a mouthful of swamp grass while eagerly taking more from Buff Frog into his bag.

Another knock came to Buff Frog’s door. His face lit up in joy. “This must be trick-or-treat! I try your custom now.” He went over to the door and opened it, arms spread wide with a gigantic smile on his face. “Happy Halloween! I am so glad to have fresh-faced child at door and be part of holiday cheer. What your costume supposed to-”

“Ugh, whatever. You have any candy or what?” Star sharply turned her attention in that direction at the familiar voice.

“Jeremy?” Marco cried out, his voice cracking.

Star and Marco poked their heads around the side of Buff Frog at the familiar voice. Jeremy Birnbaum, in the shrill, diminutive flesh. Of the many people Star had met during her time on Earth, he was one of the few that she would’ve been perfectly fine with never seeing again, and she knew Marco hated him far more than she did. He was wearing a karate outfit with his name embroidered in multiple places on the fabric.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Marco Diaz. What are you doing out in a dump like this? Oh, wait, that makes perfect sense!” he cackled.

“Don’t listen to him, Buff Frog,” Marco shouted, still fixing his angry gaze on the child. “He’s just a sad, mean little turd.”

“Look, Marco, I get it. You did one big thing and had your 15 minutes of fame and you think you’re hot stuff. But all you really did was make this town even lamer and bring a bunch of weirdo losers here. Whatever, I’m out of here. By the way, those wing things on your head are wimpy, old man. Anyway, later, nerds.”

As he was walking away, he antagonized a few groups of monster teenagers that were wandering around. Star’s face felt like it was on fire. She started charging out the door to give the twerp a piece of her mind, but a large hand gripped her shoulders and held her back.

“Star… is not worth it.”

“Yeah,” Tom added, hands in his pockets. “For the record, I’ve seen a lot of demons with wings way wimpier than yours.” Buff Frog laughed sadly.

Star clenched her fists in and out, knowing they were right. After taking a deep breath, she plopped down onto the floor, resting her cheeks on her hands and sighing. Since the Cleaving, it seemed like everyone had been getting along so well, and problems had been out of sight for so long that she’d gotten complacent. Even after the subject came up earlier today, she really hadn’t believed that anything bad would happen. Had she just been delusional for assuming that things were really better? Could more of this happen? Would more of this happen? She’d done everything in her power, including giving up that very power, to fix the problems and prejudices she saw in society. On some level, she knew she shouldn’t be too bothered by this - it was just Jeremy, after all - but it was just sinking in how far away they still were from the world she wanted to see.

After another minute stewing in her negative emotions, two large hands hefted her back to her feet, and she found herself staring directly into big yellow eyes at a distance where she could see every individual wrinkle under them. “Star, is OK. Those like mean boy exist, but it not so bad. I am used to it. Is better than Mewni. No one try to shove us off cliff yet,” he laughed. “Besides, mean boy not wrong. This place is dump. Children not do chores. Teenagers. Now go, I am not needing you being sad. Get candy with friends and adorable babies,” he said sternly.

“OK. Well, tell Katrina and all the others that we said hi,” Star hesitantly spoke. He was right, she supposed, but something about it still wasn’t sitting right with her. Marco took her hand with the smile he always gave her when trying to ease her worries and the group headed for the door.

“Star, karate boy, take good care of each other. Friends and babies too. You are both like tadpole to me. All will work out, da.”

The group said their goodbyes and headed out. “You feeling alright?” Marco inquired after they’d made their way out of the monster village, .

“I- yeah, I’m fine. Just stinks to see something like that after a while of things being really good.”

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I know a house that gives out homemade candy bars made from Sugar Seeds. Ferguson ate four of them one year and was sick for two weeks. Wanna go?”

Star was grateful for the change in subject, and turned to see his soothing chocolate gaze roving her face. He was always right at her side knowing how to lift her spirits, whether it be out of the deepest depths or from the mountaintops into the clouds. Maybe it was just best to push the issue out of her mind for n-

“I hate to interrupt the moment,” Tom stuck his head between them, forcing them to split apart to not get smacked by his horns, “but you might want to check this out.” He pointed a block in front of them to a group of kids frantically scrambling away from something with purpose, looking back over their shoulders every few seconds. Star and Marco locked eyes briefly once more and ran over towards them with the others just behind. Interestingly, Star noted, there were humans, Mewmans, and monsters alike in the group. The moment they drew near, one of the kids just pointed around a large building nearby without a word before continuing their mad dash.

Even Janna seemed interested now, raising an eyebrow along with the others before jogging towards the source of the commotion. They rounded the corner and were greeted with…

“Ludo’s castle?” Star and Marco said simultaneously. “Ludo’s here?”

“They’re still doing that thing?” Tom mouthed to Janna in the periphery of Star’s vision.

Now that she thought about it, there was a dim recollection of Ludo’s voice in her mind from the fateful day of the Cleaving, but her entire being had been so focused on the portal that it had barely registered at the time. How they hadn’t stumbled upon it in the past few months, though, was beyond her. OK, maybe it had something to do with them spending their first few dragon-cycle joyrides focused more on each other than what was below them, but in her defense, how was she supposed to focus on anything else with Marco in his adorkably handsome rough-and-tumble rider outfit? A non-heart-shaped spot of pink tinged her cheeks, and she shook off the thought by striding towards the castle, with Marco jerking forward as a result.

Janna’s eyes lit up at the eerie glow of the torches and the medieval trellises all along the walls. “Finally, my kind of Halloween.” She leaped forward to ring the doorbell.

Before anyone could react, a large net descended on them, capturing them and hoisting them up into the air. They all instinctively tried to break it, and found it impossibly strong. The door opened and they were hoisted into the and carried inside. Star tried to get her bearings but struggled to adjust her position given the bulky fruit costume. Eventually they were set back down in a large room. Star was finally able to crane her head enough to see the back of a large stone throne with two giant horns.

A shrill, familiar cackle erupted from the occupant of the throne. Suspicions confirmed, at least. “Hello, children. You have been trapped in my clutches! By the power invested in me on this Hallow’s Ween, I declare you… trick-and-treated!” Everyone remained still for a second, holding their breath to see what Ludo would do next. “Trick-and-treated!” he called out again. His voice dropped to a whisper, but Ludo was bad at whispering. “Dennis, that’s when you turn the chair!”

“Oh, right, sorry big brother!”

The stone throne swiveled around to reveal Ludo in the same clown costume Star remembered from the seance years ago. Spider and Bird, who Star now realized had been the ones to trap and carry them, emerged from the shadows to flank the sides of the throne. Right as the net dropped, Star felt her costume get pelted with something light. She picked up a small bag that had landed next to her face; it was labeled “Gold’N Crispz”.

“Ludo, what are you doing?” she finally called out.

“Wait, Star Butterfly? Is that really you? Help them up, help them up quickly now!” Spider, Bird, and a tall Kappa Star didn’t recognize helped Marco and Tom up first, who in turn assisted with Star and Janna. Ludo ran over and leaped up into a confused Marco’s arms, giving him a big hug and doing the same to Star a moment later. “I’ve missed you both so much!”

“We, um, missed you too, Ludo?” Marco unsurely stammered out.

“Oh, Marco, you’re alive! I thought you were actually a skeleton for a moment there!”

Star cleared her throat to get his attention once more. “So, uh, Ludo… we saw some kids running away screaming from here before.”

“Trick-and-treating hasn’t been going so well, they all call me ‘ugly hairy clown’ and flee. Ah well, more chips for me! But help yourselves, you two!”

“Uh, Star?” Tom spoke up. “Where’s Meteora?” Wait, what? She was gone? Star had felt her pulling on the leaves just a few minutes ago. She glanced over to Mariposa, who was still strapped into Marco’s carrier comfortably, seemingly unaffected by recent events. She groaned in frustration; the night had already had enough problems, why did this have to happen?

“There!” Marco shouted, pointing to the half-monster baby who had started crawling all along the gloomy walls of the castle. She rounded a corner out of sight.

“I got this,” Janna said. “This is my kind of place.” She jogged as fast as her costume would let her into the corridor Meteora disappeared into.

“I have zero clue who any of you are,” Tom added, pointing finger guns at Ludo and his friends, “but you guys seem like you have some catching up to do, so I’m just gonna go too.” He followed after Janna, tailed by the taller Kappa who Star presumed was Dennis who was breathlessly shouting warnings about various things in the castle.

“Well, your friends seem fun!” Ludo spouted out, bouncing on his feet. He led them into a room decorated like a lounge and jumped up onto one of the armchairs, motioning Star and Marco to do the same. “Come, sit! Would you care for another game of cha-rahds?” He gasped suddenly, pointing at Marco’s chest with a comically excited grin. “You two had a baby! That’s so nice! What’s her naaaaaame?”

Star and Marco’s faces both flushed. “She’s not ours, she’s my sister!”

“Potato, tomato,” he waved his hand at them dismissively. “I’m so happy for you both!”

“Anyyyyway,” Star drawled, eager to change the subject, “You rebuilt your castle, huh? It looks…” She spotted some sludge dripping down one of the walls nearby. “...nice!”

“Yes, it’s been quite an emotional journey this past year. I floated through space for a while - I think I hallucinated you with six arms at one point!” Star raised a finger and began to open her mouth, but Marco quickly grabbed pushed it back down. He probably had the right idea. “Then I lived a dreadful life with mother and father for a while, and then my wonderful little brother who I love so very much helped me see that I didn’t need them anymore by dunking a basketball, and we ended back up here! I guess that’s about it.”

“That’s… uh, glad to hear you’re doing well?” Star asked hesitantly. It was nice to see him not constantly attacking them or plotting to steal from them, but he was still an incredibly strange creature that Star could never quite get a read on. “How’s Earthni been treating you?”

“What’s an Earthni?” He blinked a few times, still innocently grinning.

“Earth and Mewni fused a few months ago,” Star dumbfoundedly responded.

“So that’s why the sky went all pretty and purpley, and why that milkshake stand I always went to right after I failed at getting your wand appeared right next to us. Speaking of which, how is that wand of yours?” He leaned forward in his seat expectantly.

“It’s, um, gone,” Marco said.

Ludo’s brow furrowed. “Well why don’t you go find it?”

“He means gone gone.” Star added. “We destroyed its source.”

“Whaaaaaaat? So no more magic at all? No more wand?” His beady pupils suddenly contracted to tiny dots in the center of his bulbous yellow eyeballs, voice dropping to a whisper. “...no more wand. No more wand. No more wand! I’m free, I’m- I’m free!” He stood up on the chair, jumping up and down and spinning around looking the happiest they’d ever seen him. “My brain, it doesn’t stop scheming and plotting for ways to steal the wand. It’s been lingering in the back of my mind for so long, but I don’t want it there. This is such a relief!”

Star felt a pang of sympathy for her ex-enemy. His mind was largely still an enigma, but he was struggling to put a past he wasn’t proud of behind him in his own way - something she was quite familiar with. She popped open a bag of chips and inspected them carefully, still a bit concerned about whatever food Ludo might deem worthy of giving out. Much to her surprise, they were actually just standard potato chips - fairly good ones, at that, and she was pretty hungry, having been too preoccupied to even dig in to her candy haul so far. Ludo remained in his happy reverie, babbling to himself while she munched and crunched down all the chips. Was that really all there were in it? Stupid packaging. She rustled the bag a bit, hearing it echo through the room. How could a bag be so loud? When the noise persisted, she realized it was actually footsteps. The three stood up and found Tom, Janna, and Dennis, all with scratches and scrapes and scuffs on their skin and clothing, panting heavily with Meteora fast asleep sucking her thumb in Tom’s arms.

“That baby is a nightmare!” Dennis squeaked out, his nasally voice only accentuated by his breathlessness. “She fought off Spider and Bird-”

“Yes, yes, we’ve all had a lovely evening, Dennis. But get this: the wand is gone! I’m free! Star, Marco, it’s been wonderful to see you again, we must catch up more some other time! Quickly, we must go tell Fudo and Tudo and Kudo and Zudo and Menudo and-”

Star, Marco, and the others had managed to make it the whole way off the castle property and out of earshot before Ludo was done with his list of names.

“Sooooo… what happened to-”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Janna tersely stated, as if the experience had made her a changed person. “Let’s just go take Meteora back home.” She took a step forward and winced

Tom snapped his fingers and a pillar of flame erupted in the street behind them, fading away seconds later to reveal his souped up Underworld carriage. “I can’t portal everywhere anymore but I can at least do that. Hop in.”

“What a gentleman,” Janna grumbled, tossing herself face-first onto the long plush seats within.

Star looked at the carriage, then looked up to Marco and knew they were on the same page as usual. They weren’t quite ready for Halloween to end yet. “We’ll make our own way back.”

“Suit yourself,” Tom shrugged, following Janna into the carriage before taking off for the night.

Marco’s hand found Star’s once more as they started to meander back in the general direction of home. “Well, that was an unexpected visit.”

“Yeah… glad to see Ludo’s doing well, though. It kinda gives me hope for Earthni, y’know?”

“Hmm?”

Star gazed up at the last vestiges of the sun in the sky. The sunsets on Earthni were becoming a constant positive in her life, always reminding her of the best the world had to offer. Of Marco, of peace, of the promise of a happy life ahead of them. “If Ludo, the guy who spent basically every waking second of his life for my entire first year here trying to steal my wand, can dig deep down and learn and grow from it… maybe we don’t just have to accept that some people are going to be mean idiots. It’s never gonna be perfect, but maybe there’s at least some hope that anyone can change.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Except Jeremy. He might be one of the hopeless ones,” she joked, jabbing an elbow into Marco’s side causing them both to giggle profusely. “Weeeeeell, we should probably get home soon. This little angel is on a one-way trip to Snoozeville.” She gave a feather-light boop to Mariposa’s nose.

“...should we still stop for those Sugar Seed bars?”

She sighed in contentment and leaned against his arm. “You know me too well, Diaz.”

[thecleverdame]

Sam x Reader

Summary: Sam meets Y/N at her brother's funeral and finds a life he didn't know he could fit into.

Warnings: Death of a sibling, death of a child, smut, fluff

Beta:  @ilikaicalie

-

They roll into town just as fall is turning the forest bronze on the east coast. It’s a picturesque New England town, charming stores along the main street and townsfolk preparing for the last tourist invasion of the year. All while the trees fight to keep their tresses in the nippy autumn sky.

171 W. Bluebell Lane

The Kingston house looks like a brick castle that should be made of gingerbread and gumdrops. It’s a three-story colonial house, framed by a white picket fence and moated by way of a well-manicured lawn.

“Places like this always freak me out.” Dean laments, pulling at the knot of his tie.

Sam just chuckles.

Sam dreamed of growing up in a home like this. As a boy he imagined stable, safe families eating well-balanced meals together in ghoul-free dining rooms across America. Those dreams faded quickly as his dad tossed him a box of hostess cupcakes into the back seat of the Impala.

They have to park a couple blocks away. There’s a steady stream of black-clad mourners making their way up the front walk. Sam’s glad they wore the suits, Dean fought for something more casual but this seems more appropriate.

Sam wishes they would have brought a casserole or flowers. Anything to help him feel more reverent. They’ve been to plenty of wakes before, but the ones for children are always the worst - they make his gut ache.

There’s a larger-than-life picture of the kid set up in the living room. A cheerful five-year-old boy smiling wide and full of life.

He doesn’t want to be there. It’s been months of close quarters and hard motel mattresses. He and Dean are brothers, nothing will break that bond, but they both need to get the fuck away from each other. Sam’s had a dull headache for a week now, a tender throb in his temple he thinks he might be able to sooth if he could just get a moment to himself, just an elusive moment of silence.

Dean wanders off into the sea of somber faces and Sam makes his way into the backyard to check things out. It’s a cold blustery day, the wind is rattling the chains on the empty swing set, making a metal on metal clank that strikes a chord, like a tolling bell for mortality.

Sam shakes off the chill and sits down on the picnic table, taking a moment for himself. It’s a delicious second of peace he typically doesn’t snag, that is until she bursts out the back door. She almost trips down the steps, sniffling and dabbing at her nose with a kleenex as she steadies herself on the iron railing.

She’s wearing a frilly little dress, something that a younger girl might wear for a birthday party, except this one is all black.

By the time she notices Sam, she’s already barreling in his direction. She looks hesitant but sits down beside him anyway. He thinks she’s probably a knock out when her nose isn’t leaking like a sieve and red-raw from crying. She rubs bloodshot eyes with her thumb and index finger before wiping at her nose.

“Hey,” she whispers, giving him a good once-over as she tugs at the hem of her dress. The skirt is too short, doing a less than adequate job of covering her legs. She’s tall and her long legs are bare and he can see the tiny goosebumps on her thighs. He forces himself to look her in the face.

“I’m Sam.” He offers gingerly.

“Y/N.” She forces a smile that quickly breaks as she bursts into tears.

“Are you okay?” Sam frowns, instantly regretting the question. He’s nervous, that hasn’t happened in a while.

“No, I’m not okay. I’m a fucking mess.” She stops to wipe tears off her rosy cheeks. It hits Sam like a ton of bricks; she’s the older sister, the person they came to talk to.

She’s the one who was there when the kid, her brother, died.

Dean showed him a photo of her yesterday but it must have been old because he wasn’t prepared for this breathtaking woman who’s falling apart in front of him.

“I don’t want to go back in there,” she hiccups, looking at the house. Shaking her head, rogue tears slide from the corner of her eye.

“I wouldn’t either,” he confides.

“It’s so damn cold out here, move a little closer.” She commands and Sam doesn’t know what to make of her when she raises his arm up and wriggles against his side, laughing through tears. “I’m usually not this confident, you must think I’m a nut job.”

“It’s fine, it is cold out…you’re dealing with a lot. I think you get a free pass for this one.” He shrugs, letting his armrest gently on her shoulders.

“I’m gonna miss him so much.” She wrings her hands, her face crumpling in that nasty way when there’s too much pain as her cheeks blush even rosier. “This hurts so bad,” she whispers as if it stings to talk and then sobs into her hands so relentlessly that eventually, she doubles over.

One of her legs is pressed against his thigh, a naked soft leg that he wants to reach out to touch.

She sniffles.

He feels like a tactless pervert.

Sam stays with her until the tips of his ears go numb. He thinks about how much it hurt when he lost Dean. That raw throbbing in his chest he was convinced would kill him (for a while he wished it had). He wants to help her but it’s better to not get involved. They won't be around that long.

Sam tells her he’s a private investigator. She nods but he can see she doesn’t give two shits about anything other than her own nauseating grief.

The wind picks up and Sam’s so cold he shakes, teeth chattering his skull. She pulls away and he assumes she’s about to apologize for keeping him outside. Instead her eyes narrow and she groans. “I’m gonna puke.”

Jogging towards the house she offers one final glance back at him as she opens the back door. “Thanks, Sam!”

--

She’s not at the funeral. Dean stays there and Sam goes to find her.

Sam wanders on the front lawn of her parent's house for a half hour, stomping dead leaves and trying to determine exactly what’s wrong with him that he can’t bring himself to knock on the door like a normal person.

He’s done this a thousand times before.

After watching him pace back and forth through fallen leaves like a lumbering giant Y/N opens up the front door and calls out to him. “What are you doing?”

He tells her the truth. Tells her he came back to check on her, that he can’t stop thinking about her pain. She looks significantly better than the day before, but her eyes are still red and lips chapped. And she’s still holding onto a box of  Kleenex like it might save her life.

--

Sam sits next to her on jack-o-lantern sheets in Wes’ bedroom. She explains that he loved Halloween. He watches her as she traces one of the pumpkins on his child size pillow. Dragging the pillow into her lap she presses her face into it.

“It still smells like him,” she whispers.

“Y/N...what exactly happened?”

She doesn’t hesitate.

“He wanted me to read to him in the pile of leaves we raked in the front yard. Wes was nuts about this one book, The House of Boo, his favorite. So he sat in my lap and we read and then he just kinda, slumped back into me. I thought he was cuddling at first or maybe he fell asleep. They told me his heart just…stopped”

“Oh, God.” Sam murmurs. “I’m so sorry.”

“I never thought I’d have a little brother, no one did. I mean, I’m almost twenty years older…”

Sam could tell her, but it’s better than she never knows what actually happened to Wes. There’s no reason to tear her world apart.

When he leaves that day he’s prepared to say his goodbyes and walk away for good. But she calls to him down the driveway.

“Can I see you again?”

-

Sam sees Y/N more or less every night for a month. After a couple of days she starts crying less and talking more. They go to dinner, to the movies, to the bookstore. It’s boring and normal and Sam loves every second of it.

She’s charming and delicate and witty. She makes him laugh. She’s holding his hand while she dances and sings in the isle at the midnight viewing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

She’s a terrible choice for his life, she’s afraid of everything; spiders, big dogs, horror movies, meteorites hitting the earth. He can’t help but feel a thrill run up his spine when she walks closer to him at night, finding a warm, safe place at his side, under his arm.

--

When she works up the nerve to sleep in her own house for the first time since her brother died, Sam stays with her. They spend most of the night in the kitchen talking about tv shows from their childhood and where they’d travel if they could go anywhere in the world.

“My grandmother left me this house,” she smiles softly sitting next to him at the dining room table. “When I first moved in it felt like coming home.”

“It doesn’t anymore?”

Sam’s ears perk up when she tells him she thinks it’s haunted.

“It’s strange, Wes loved it here, he’d spend every Friday night with me. Sam...I still see him sometimes, I know it sounds crazy but when I was here yesterday it’s like I could feel him. And I have these dreams, vivid fucking dreams that I swear are real. “You probably think I’m nuts, huh?”

“You never know.” He nods. “But I don’t think you’re nuts.”

She’s got this happy, tired grin on her face when Sam kisses her for the first time. Just the press of his lips, unobtrusive and sweet.

She laughs against his mouth, pulls away and laughs out loud.

“I’m sorry,” shaking her head she reaches for his hand. “You just make me really happy Sam, that’s all. I haven’t felt like it was ok to be happy for a long time.”

“I know what you mean.” He leans in to kiss her again and this time he laughs too.

--

It’s late, they’d been to a movie and had a few drinks and end up making out on her front porch like teenagers. Sam unceremoniously dry humps her, the two of them fully clothed as he grinds the bulge in his pants between her legs.

“Take me inside.” She pants, his mouth sealing over hers before she can even finish.

“You sure you want me to stay?” He double checks, big, warm thumbs rubbing over both her cheeks.

“I’m sure.”

They make it as far as the living room couch.

Sam paws at her jeans, yanking her panties off right along with them. She’s still standing when he drops to his knees and buries his head between her legs.  

She makes these little sounds, moaning his name with a fist full of his hair as he tongues her clit.

“Sam,” she tugs at his hair, bringing him back up to kiss her.

She’s breathless and the sound of his name coming from her mouth is something he’s imagined for a while. He slides his tongue into her mouth, swallowing whimpers as she tastes herself on his mouth.

Sitting him on the couch, she takes a condom and rolls it on his swollen erection before crawling into his lap. Sam just watches, making little grunts of approval when she reaches for his cock, wrapping her hand around the shaft as she presses the throbbing head of his cock against her hot, wet little pussy. She screws her eyes shut, soft hands grasping at his shoulders as she sinks down on him so slowly, inch by inch until her resolve falters and she sinks down, taking him all the way into her belly.

Her whole body moves up and down as she fucks herself on his cock, kissing him desperately.

“Oh God, Sam,” she moans as he pulls at her hips, holding her place. Sam can feel her stretched wide open, the most delicate part of her shivering on his cock. All he has to do is look down to get an eye full of her slick cunt stuffed full. They both start to move, Sam fucking up into her with the soft slap of their bodies coming together.

Between kisses, she says his name again and again, like a mantra while her curvy little hips work back and forth on his dick. Sam fucks her faster, watching her tits bounce, nipples grazing his chest as her pussy takes every inch.

Without a second of hesitation, he lifts her off his cock, ignoring her protest as he spreads her open underneath him and eases his cock back inside. His rhythm grows faster, skin smacking skin with every stroke. He doesn’t say a word that first time, just listens to his own grunts, her pants and the pornographic sounds of sex that seem obscenely loud. It takes everything in him to stay on task, every ounce of self-control not to come like a kid on prom night before she’s satisfied.

She comes around him, shaking like a one-woman earthquake under the weight of his body. Sam follows right behind her, coming with his face pressed into her neck, making embarrassing desperate sounds.

Sam holds her, soft nude thighs laying over his hips. He whispers things he knows he shouldn’t say, he tells her that he hasn’t wanted anyone as much as he wants her.

He almost tells her about Jess.

When he wakes up the next morning they’re still on the couch. The absurdly thin quilt he pulled off the armchair is barely covering her ass but her sleep-warm body is pressed into his side, calm in the lull of sleep.

Sam thinks he could be happy here in this house with her.

The time comes, as it always does, for he and Dean to move on. Sam is standing on her porch with a backpack slung over his shoulder, trying to find the right words for goodbye when she takes his hand between hers and says the magic word.

“Stay.”

--

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[easnuppa]

Secret feelings

Chapter 9

Daryl had tried to get some sleep during the night, but it was impossible. The night before was playing on repeat over and over again. He had never heard that type of bitterness in his boys voices before and he had never had that kind of explosive fight with Savannah before. Whenever they had disagreed on something in the past it usually ended with him leaving to cool off before they started raising their voices to one another, but yesterday he had forced himself to stay, to try to solve things, get things out in the open, find out what Savannah wanted. But when she had started talking about how he was allowed to come see his kids but that he had notify her first, he had started picturing her in all kinds of scenarios with other men and that thought had really fueled his anger. No one else was to touch either her or their kids. No prissy asshat from Alexandria was gonna prance around in that house playing daddy to his kids, and feel the soft skin his princess had. Annoyed and frustrated he had tossed the blankets aside and stormed out of Aaron's house with his crossbow in hand. He might as well get some use out of his restlessness and go hunting, he needed to fill up Savannahs and Aaron’s freezer with meat.

He returned back to Alexander with a string full of kritters. From the looks of the sun he would guess it was around eight or nine in the morning. Good he thought, his boys would be up and already eaten, ready for their first lesson in skinning an animal. He had his crossbow secured over his shoulder as he strolled in through the gate. His favorite weapon and extension of his arm had been returned to him right after they got to Alexandria, it looked like Carol had recognized the guards handling two very familiar bows and she had taken them back and brought them here before they all left the Haven. He felt more level headed then he did that morning when he rounded Savannahˋs house and into her backyard. The boys where already outside playing, Dean already with grime stuck to his face, his jean pants already ripped open on the knees, while little Caleb looked fresh out of the showers. He had to grin, at least something was how it used to be. He whistled to get his boys attention and Caleb came running towards him and he scooped him up in his arms with a growl.

They played around a bit before he sat the little boy down and walked over to Dean and ruffled his now too short hair a bit. Who the hell had cut his hair like that? He looked like one of those prissy kids down the street.

"Are yaˋll ready for yer first lesson?" he could spot a glimmer of excitement in Dean's eyes for a second before his boy joined sulkingly. He and his younger brother on the stairs. He knew Dean good enough to not force the boy to talk about why he was so bitter and sulking. Daryl already knew and he also knew he needed to give the boy time to adjust to the new situation. They rinsed all the kritters and his boys were starting to get the hang of it, but he needed to find them each some smaller knives. His buck knife was way too big and heavy for their small hands. They were all full of blood and goo when they were done, and he lifted up the small game before he walked inside tossing it in the sink to be rinsed off. Then he ushered both boys into the bathroom where they all cleaned up. He had not yet seen Savannah, but he guessed she was busy feeding Lela.

As he came outside and the boys were running out the backdoor again to play, he spotted Carol in the kitchen with his baby girl. She had spotted him too and smiled widely at him.

"Good morning, Daryl" she said with her usual chirpy voice, he grunted back.

"Where’s Savannah?" he said and looked around, but there was no trace of her.

"Oh, she said she needed some air and took her bow and walked outside," Daryl frowned, the woman wasn’t gonna do what he was thinking, right? He ran out the front door and over to the gates, and sure enough there was his glorious princess standing all geared up, ready to go out hunting. Fear ran through his veins like ice water. She was not well enough to roam around the woods alone. Only yesterday she came home from being stuck in a bed for a month. He hurried over so he could catch her before she went outside.

"What ya think ya doing, woman?" he growled from behind her. She turned slightly towards him.

"isn’t it pretty obvious Daryl? I’m going hunting!" her eyes where guarded and her voice had that sarcastic ring to it. He grabbed the quiver, pulling it off of her shoulder and tossed it aside.

"The hell ya ain’t." he growled to her, he did not notice how people had already started to gawk at them, and he didn’t notice how he had already started raising his voice. Savannah glared up at him and shoved him. Wow, every time he got surprised about the strength that she was hiding away in that little body of hers, and as usual he had to really bolt his legs to the ground to not lose balance.

"What the hell did you do that for? I'm gonna go hunting and you canˋt stop me," Daryl grabbed the bow over her shoulder and ripped at it.

"The hell I am, ya ain't goin’ out there, ya had one day up on yer feet, ya ain’t ready. Ya should be in the house, watchin’ the kids," Savannah yanked the bow back and growled up at him.

"Oh really?" she said and stopped, starting to walk towards him again. Her whole body vibrating with fury.

"So thatˋs the only thing I'm good for huh? Layin’ on my back and taking care of the kids that pop out every nine months, huh? While you, the mighty hunter, roams the woods all morning and then comes back and makes a mess of my whole back porch,. How typically caveman of ya Dixon!" she shoved the pointer into his chest with every word.

"Were you expecting me naked in bed when you where done Daryl?! Ready for you to put another kid in me?!" she was shouting up in his face now. He swatted her finger off of his chest and bumped her back with his chest, his face in hers.

"That’s what ya like to think of me, huh? Yer fucking delusional woman! Somethin’ in yer head clicked while comin’ over ˋere, ya been nothin’ more than a stone cold bitch since ya woke up!" he turned and was about to walk over and pick up the quiver when he heard her scream and suddenly he felt her jump on him from behind. He was taken by surprise and lost all balance and they both tumbled to the ground. She got in a couple of good kicks to his legs and he felt a stinging pain across his cheek. He was blindly fumbling to get a hold of her hands when someone held him back and dragged him up to his feet. A wild shriek rang through the air, the scream was so gutshrilling that his blood turned to ice, and when he looked up he saw that a young man had his arms around Savannah, lifting her kicking and screaming off the ground. She was acting like someone was about to kill her.

He pushed the hands aside that were holding him steady and bulldozed over to the man hurting his princess. He grabbed at Savannah and pulled her out of the mans tight grip.

"Ya don’t fuckin’ touch mah wife!" he yelled out without thinking and drew his fist back and delivered a rock hard punch to the mans jaw, he saw his head being slung back and felt a satisfaction like no other. Then he felt another set of hands grab at him and he turned around to see Savannah standing right behind him with a knife held in her hand, ready to attack. Her eyes furious and her stance was firm and he knew she was deadly when she looked like that.

"Iˋll gutt you before you lay one finger on him!" she snarled and Daryl saw the terror in the man’s face as he lifted his hands in the air and slowly stepped back.

"But he was gonna kill my brother," the man stammered. The red hot angry haze that had clouded his mind evaporated and he saw all the gawking spectators around them, then Rickˋs annoyed face came into his view and he went inbetween the man and Savannah.

"I thought I told you to get this whole shit under control, Daryl, now get her out of here!" he felt his heat flush from all the attention they were suddenly getting from the people of Alexandria. He pulled the knife out Savannah’s hard grip and placed his hand around her tiny waist and gripped the quiver and his crossbow as he led her out of the gates of Alexandria, they both needed time alone to cool off. They had been fucking acting like wild animals, what had happened to them? She willingly let him lead her away until they found a quiet spot in the woods, he pushed her gently to sit down on a log and he placed himself in front of her.

Sitting here with her so close in the quietness of the forest seemed suddenly so intimate, a bit awkward. He had never been a good conversationalist, but he knew that they needed to figure out stuff. In under twenty-four hours they had been at each other's throats, that had never happened before. He felt Savannahs fingers gingerly touch the sore skin on his cheek. He was a bit startled by the gentle touch, his nerves were still a bit on edge after the fight, but he realized that it was not the usual kind of fear of someone touching him. This gave him a more pleasant feeling. He lifted his own hand up and brushed his own fingers against hers, where they were tracing the scratches.

"I’m sorry," she whispered, he glanced up at her between his tresses of hair hanging down in his face.

"S’alright," he said, how many times had he brushed off an apology? But now he really meant it. She could do whatever to him and it did not matter, he would always take it, if it meant that only for a second he would be near her. He ducked his head and felt a bit bashful. The things they had screamed at each other only an hour ago, it was hanging between them like a dark foggy cloud. It felt like it was choking him. How had things turned so bad between them? For so long they had been so close, the only other person they could rely on, the one person they knew was always there. And now, now they could not be in the same room without screaming at eachother. He stared down at her knife laying in his hand.

"Whatˋs happenin’ to us?" he heard her draw a deep breath and then sigh heavily. He looked up at her again, now she looked so small and fragile, like all her fighting spirit had left her. It was like if he reached out and touched her, only the slightest touch would make her shatter into a thousand pieces.

"I guess we work better when we only have each other, now we are pulled in so many directions, so many people want a piece of us," he let his pointer run over the sharp blade and he remembered how he usually had dealt with pain when he was younger. The burn marks on his wrists and chest bare witness of it. It was weird, he had not thought about that in over five years, now he felt the urge again, it was overwhelming.

"Fuck the others," he growled lowly and he meant it. He wanted for them to go back to how it was, it was weird how the people who they had longed so badly to be reunited with were the reason that this wedge was drawn between them. He heard her snort out a sarcastic laugh at his comment.

"Daryl?" she then said, he peeked up at her, "why aren’t you home with us? Why did you move in with Aaron and Eric? The boys are asking, but I donˋt know what to tell them," he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, he took a deep breath and watched as the smoke he breathed out evaporated into the air above them.

"Thought it was for the best, for yer sake," he pulled his knee’s up and wrapped his arms around them, almost like he needed to comfort himself. Without even realizing what he was doing he pulled the glowing and burning end of the cigarette against the skin of his wrist, it was weird how numb he felt. It was like he could hardly feel it at all, while the inside of him was a turmoil of built up pain, panic and sorrow. He felt Savannahˋs cool fingers wrap themselves around the hand that held the cigarette.

"Daryl, please donˋt hurt yourself like this," he stared down at his wrist as she gently brushed over the burnmark, removing any traces of ash.

"We lived together as a family for five years, we did everything together, we even have three kids together. They love you and miss you so much, they need their dad, they need you, Daryl, you are such a wonderful daddy to them. Why can't we just at least be friends after all we’ve shared?" he swallowed hard. Yeah, he knew the kids missed him, he could see it in Deans change in behaviour, but he needed her to want him too. Why could she not see that? He was miserable without her.

"What about you?" his voice was raspy, even more than usual. It was the fucking lump in his throats fault. She squeezed his hand.

"I need you there too, Lela doesnˋt need her own room for a long time still, so there’s a spare room in the house you can use," and with that the little hope that had started blossoming in his chest was crushed in an instant. He stomped out the cigarette and got up from the log, the pain of being rejected by her was only intensified by her soft touch. He needed space. He lifted his crossbow off the ground and slung it over his shoulder.

"Alright," he said, at least it gave him the chance to see his kids as much as he wanted. He placed her knife in front of her, then he turned and started walking back. He could not let her see how devastated he was. He knew, no he had always known that his feelings for her were only a one way thing, it was unanswered. It did not take long until she had caught up with him and she easily fell in step with him.

"Oh the boys are going to be thrilled hearing this," she said beaming up at him, he ducked his head and nodded.

"Mhm," he murmured. She bumped his arm and he looked down at her.

"But I tell you one thing, Dixon, there will be no dragging dates home late at night, I don't wanna hear any moans or bed springs squeaking. Or walk in on a half naked skank in the kitchen early in the morning," he had to cough, had he just heard her right, had she just said what he thought she did?

"Yeah right," he mumbled, only woman he could ever picture being with like that was the woman walking next to him right now. She shoved his arm again.

"No I mean it Daryl, I don't wanna see or hear any of that," could this conversation be more awkward?

"Ain’t gonna happen," was all he could say to that, and it was the truth.

"Sure it will," she said confidently, " Alexandria is full of pretty women. I remember how some of the woman back at the prison were fawning over you. I’m sure it’s going to happen at Alexandria too," she said and he let out a snort, " and donˋt forget Daryl, I know you. I know your drive. Twice a day for nearly five years. It won't take long until you feel the need, if it hasn’t already happened," he flinched, it felt like she had slapped him, the only reason he had acted like a teenager with raging hormones the last five years, was because of her.

"I ain’t..." he inhaled sharply, "I mean I haven't", she looked up at him quizzically, like that fact surprised her. He started gnawing on his thumb, his head down so she could not see how hard he blushed.

"Goes for ya too," he mumbled, she snorted a laugh.

"Yeah, Iˋve seen some of the guys in Alexandria, not promising if you ask me, the good ones are already taken," she said and nudged his arm playfully again. He frowned and could not ignore how her words stung him. That sealed the deal for him, any thought that she might be at least slightly attracted to him just crashed and burned. She only thought of him as a friend, she was content with coparenting with him, she tolerated his presence because of the kids. How could he have fooled himself for so long? He had maybe thought that with time, playing house, she might learn to love him, but nah, she just accepted him because of them. He was nothing more than redneck trash, she wanted a real man, someone like Rick.

Music could be heard when they got inside of the gates. Savannah looked down the streets they were passing, but she could not localize where the sound was coming from. As they reached the house she saw Carol come outside with the kids and their baby girl in her arms. Savannah stepped up the stairs.

"Whereˋs the music coming from?" Carol gave her and Daryl a quick smile.

"Itˋs the fair, once a month, the ones who can play instruments do, those who sing and dance do, we bake cookies and some types of cake. Some cook and bring something, it is just really a little get together because of all the kids. I was gonna take the kids over there now, you guys should come." Savannah smiled and looked over to Daryl, he nodded.

"Yaˋll go ahead, just gonna get my stuff from Aaronˋs, I'll meet yaˋll there," Savannah gave him a smile and a wave while she took both Dean and Caleb's hands and walked over to where the fair was placed right outside the church. As they walked into the crowded area, Savannah was getting a bit uneasy, but Carol gave her a reassuring smile and she spotted Rosita and Abe with Matt, they made their way over. The boys were running off in no time to play and participate in the games that was arranged for the children of Alexandria, Carol handed Lela over to Savannah and excused herself that she needed to talk with Rick and Michonne. She soon had to return to the Kingdom and had to make sure that everything was in order for her to go. Savannah waved her off and turned towards Rosita, who was staring at her quizzically.

"Heard you and Daryl had a little argument at the gates this morning?" Savannah nodded.

"Yeah seems like we canˋt be in the same room without going off at each other," Rosita looked at her.

"Why is that? The only time I’ve seen you two act like that in the past was when you were pregnant with Dean," Savannah nodded and then Rosita gasped dramatically, "youˋre pregnant again!" she said but could not quite hold the humor back from her voice. Savannah deadpanned, and shook her head.

"Ha ha, very funny, no I have not slept with Daryl since I found out I was expecting Lela," Rosita lit up.

"And there's your problem, you are both sexually frustrated. Tell you what, me and Abe can watch the kids one night and you two can have a little date night," Savannahˋs eyes widened, there was nothing that she would want more than a date night with Daryl, but that would never happen now. They were not at the Haven where they had to be together.

"I doubt Daryl's new girlfriend would appreciate him having a date night with me," she murmured to Rosita so that no one else would hear what they were talking about. Rosita stared at her with furrowed brows.

"Daryl has a girlfriend?" Savannah nodded, and looked around, then she spotted Beth in the crowd, standing next to her sister Maggie and Glenn. She discreetly pointed in the blond’s direction.

"You see that blond girl over there, the pretty one?" Rosita turned her head and nodded.

"That's her," she then explained and Rosita stared at Beth. Abe noticed his wife's weird look and leaned down.

"What are we looking at?" and Rosita nodded over to the blond.

"Daryl's new girlfriend," she answered flatly and Abe looked over to the group that they had gotten to know as Maggie, Glenn and Beth.

"Bethˋs Daryl's new girlfriend?" he asked and it looked like he had taken a bite out of a sour lemon.

"Mhm, that what Savannah said," Rosita confirmed and Abe bursted out laughing.

"Pffft, please, that little girl, she could not hold Darylˋs attention for one second. She’s not his type at all," Savannah frowned and looked over to Abe.

"And how would you know what girl is Darylˋs type?" Abe ran his fingers over his gingerly beard.

"I would know because the man has been my buddy for five years, guys talk you know? And I know with certainty, Beth over there is not Darylˋs type," Savannahs frown grew deeper.

"Why not?" Abe let out a short laugh.

"Sheˋs not you," he said with a huge grin and a wink and Rosita laughed, it made Savannah scoff.

"Talkin ˋbout the devil," Abe said and walked over to meet Daryl where he had just entered the crowded fair. Her eyes were glued to him, she could not get enough of the man. How she longed to run her fingers over his chest, kiss the skin on his neck, bite his shoulder while he did his magic with her body, she was on fire just looking at him.

"Oooo someone’s mind went straight into the gutter," Rosita teased quietly next to her, "you know the offer still stands," Savannah shook her head and shoved at Rosita.

"Stop it," someone cleared their throat behind them and both girls twirled around. There were two young looking men standing there, one was a little taller than the other.

"Hey, you don’t know us, but I’m Spencer and this is my brother Aiden," the taller man said. Savannah cocked her brow, who the fuck where these guys and why was the guy called Aiden glaring at her? And his jaw looked badly beaten and bruised.

Savannah just nodded.

"Hey, I’m Savannah and this here is Rosita," Rosita gave the men a welcoming smile before she reached out for Lela.

"I’ll take this little Dixon princess for a while, I need my baby fix, see you later Savannah," Savannah looked after Rosita as she walked over to where Abe and Daryl was standing talking with Aaron and Eric. Eric really looked a bit misplaced next to Daryl and Abes buff frames, it was almost comical. Spencer clearing his throat again draw her attention back to them.

"Yes?" she said and blinked quizzically up at them.

"We wanted to apologize for this morning," Spencer then said and she felt her confusion grow, but then it dawned on her, looking over at Aiden, that was the guy who had grabbed a hold of her and Daryl had jumped, and his brother was the one who was to jump Daryl who she had pulled a knife on. She deadpanned herself.

"We shouldn’t have interrupted the argument you had with your husband," Spencer said and she nodded.

"We’re not really married, but thank you for apologizing. You’re right, no need to stick your nose in others business," she looked over to Aiden, "I am sorry about your jaw, I bet it hurt like a bitch. At least itˋs not broken though," Aiden scoffed and walked away and Spencer let out a little laugh.

"Have to apologize for my brothers bad manners, I think his self esteem is more bruised than his jaw," Savannah gave him a quick smile.

"He should really praise himself lucky, Daryl throws one mean punch," Spencer nodded.

"Yeah I saw, so he’s not really your husband? But he called you his wife and you guys have kids together?" he said a little unsure, Savannah hugged her arms around her torso, feeling a little uncomfortable discussing her and Daryl's situation to a stranger. She had not really clarified things to her old group either, only Rosita and Abe understood, but they had gone through the exact same thing.

"Yes well I’m sure you have heard we lived with some crazy people for some years, we had to pretend we were married, to protect each other, and now we are kind of adjusting to this new situation where we don't have to. I guess he just had a slip up," she tried to explain and the man nodded like he completely understood, though she doubted it. Then his face lit up and he smiled. This man was just the kind of guy she had always avoided back before the break out, everything about him was too perfect, not a hair on his head was misplaced. She could never picture herself being with a guy like that, she had no idea what to even talk about with a man like Spencer.

"I think I’m going to go find Rosita, my daughter needs a bottle soon," she tried to excuse herself, but the man grabbed her arm. It didn’t hurt, but she jumped a little still, he looked at where he grabbed her and pulled his arm back slowly.

"I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, I can see you’re a little jumpy, but I was just wondering, since you are single after all, would you want to have dinner with me some evening maybe?" Spencer flashed her a bright charming smile, that had probably landed him quite a few women already, but she had never felt an attraction to slick guys like Spencer. Only one man could make her heart beat faster and make her stomach flutter with just one look and that was Daryl. Her eyes flickered over to where Daryl was now standing glaring in her direction, she looked back at Spencer.

"Uhm, it is a little sudden, I think I need a little more time adjusting to living here, before I start to think about something like that," she said and hurried away.

"At least think about it," she heard Spencer shout after her and she wanted to run home and lock herself up in her house with her family.

"Stop glaring Daryl, you are starting to scare people," Rosita nudged him while she handed Lela over to him, he nodded towards Savannah.

"Who’s the asshat?" he noticed how the anger from this morning was flaring back up, he noticed the devious smirk on Rositaˋs lips.

"Jealous?" Daryl glared down at the little woman in front of him, but for some reason it had little to no effect on her, she brushed him off, "so how are things going for you, Daryl? Have you settled in at Aaronˋs? Heard you got yourself a new girlfriend?" he frowned quizzically.

"Who told ya that?" he ignored the other questions, he had never been good at smalltalk. Rosita shrugged.

"Well you know, word travels fast in such a tight community," Darylˋs mood worsened by the minute, he really could not stand crowded places. He hated all the cheerful talkative people and he hated to see how it seemed like all the single guys of Alexandria was drawn to Savannah like a moth to a flame.

"Ain't got no girl," he growled, he kept his voice low so he would not wake his sleeping daughter.

"So there's nothing going on between you and that Beth girl?" Rosita pushed on and Daryl felt his jaw drop.

"Beth?" he asked a little louder than he intended, why the hell would anyone think he had hooked up with Beth? He clenched his jaw "ain’t no fucking cradle snatcher," he said through gritted teeth.

"Pffft, sheˋs not that young Daryl, but I get your point," he still glared down at her and Abe leaned closer to his woman and smirked.

"Told you," Daryl had heard enough he nodded towards Savannah again.

"Tell ˋer I took Lela home," he told Rosita and Abe before he stomped off in the direction of their house.

He thought about what Rosita had said, were there really rumors going around Alexandra saying he had hooked up with Beth? What could have started such a stupid rumor? He hardly talked with the girl, she had always seemed a little skittish around him so he usually stayed clear of her. When he got back to the house he quickly changed and fed his little girl before he put his daughter to bed. Then he took a quick shower, cleanliness had not been his first priority when Savannah had decided to give him the cold shoulder. He didn’t care what he looked like or how pleasant he smelled as long as she kept her distance, but now since he was back in her house he had to go back to the old routines. He pulled on a pair of lose sweats and a tshirt. As he walked out of the room Savannah had said he could use, he saw the boys run in the front door, Caleb ran straight into him and hugged him as tightly as the small body could muster of strength.

"Daddy yer here?" he squealed happily, Savannah walked in right after them.

"I told you daddy was moving back in, now go wash up and play until dinnerˋs ready," the boys ran upstairs, and it sounded like a flock of wild animals had just entered the house. He turned towards the stairs.

"Keep it down will ya, yer baby sister is sleeping!" he called after them, but he reckoned it fell on deaf ears. He walked into the kitchen and leaned his hips against the counter as he crossed his arms over his chest, watching Savannah as she pulled out a pot from the cupboard.

"Need any help?" he murmured, she gave him a quick nervous smile but shook her head.

"Carol brought some rabbit stew over this morning, I'm only gonna reheat it," he nodded but continued to watch her, rubbing his thumb on his bottom lip and chin, lost in thoughts. Rositaˋs words popped up in his mind, if the rumors in fact had reached Savannahˋs ears already, which was very possible since he knew how tight Rosita and Savannah was, it might explain why Savannah was so cold towards him and so hostile against Beth. A pair of fingers snapped in front of him.

"Earth to Daryl!" he heard her say and he shot his eyes up and met her, "I said I need to set the table, and you’re sort of in the way, can't reach the plates," he stared at her lips for a moment before he turned slightly.

"I’ve got it,'' he said and pulled out four plates, glasses and forks before he set the table with the same seating arrangements like back in the cabin.

"What's up with you this evening? You looked so far away just now" he heard Savannah ask as he turned back towards her.

"Whoˋs the guy ya were talkin with?" Savannah stopped what she was doing for a second before she brushed him off a little too quickly for his taste.

"Who? Spencer? He was apologizing for this morning," Daryl frowned, what the hell was she talking about? Her voice was high pitched, and she was fidgety. This was a bit disturbing, she turned and met his quizzical stare.

"You know that fight this morning, you punched his brother in the face," he remembered very well, she had seemed frantic when the guy had pulled her off of him and it had felt really satisfying to plant his fist in the mans face. No one touched his princess. He crossed his arms over his chest again.

"That all he wanted?" now she was suddenly avoiding his eyes, she seemed nervous.

"He kinda asked me over for dinner," she answered honestly and chewed harshly on her bottom lip.

"What d’ya answer?" white hot jealousy was filling his insides and for some reason it did not look like she had rejected the man.

"Told Spencer I need more time to adjust to how life is now," Daryl could not believe his ears, what happened to the speech she had given him this morning?

"So that’s all it takes huh? One guy smiling his pearly whites at ya and ya get weak in the knees? Never pegged ya to be that desperate for attention," he said between gritted teeth. He saw the rage flare up in her silvery pools.

"Hah, youˋre the one to talk. Three days here and you were already gettin’ your dick wet!" Daryl pushed her small frame against the counter.

"And ya know that for a fact do ya?" she raised her chin stubbornly and stared into his eyes angrily.

"It was easy to see," Daryl scoffed.

"Yer delusional woman, and yer even more delusional if ya think ya can go to dinner with that asshole. Gonna wring his fucking neck clean off if he so much as talks to ya again," his face was only inches from hers, not in a million years would he accept that smug little prick running off with his woman from right under his nose. Savannah was his, she just needed to get it into her head. He turned and stormed out of the house.

@of-storms-and-sadness

@jodiereedus22