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loveharlow · 10 months ago

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SEVEN - 006

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[7.4k] based on 1x06.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mild violence, gun violence/graphic depictions of gun use, mentions of drowning, arguing, entrapment, references to mild bullying

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ Idk if y'all can tell but I be eatin the kie x sarah x reader drama up when i'm writing like it's too fun to write

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“SORRY, YOU’RE STAYING WHERE?” Kiara asked grabbing a tray of food as John B leaned against the counter and you trailed behind her with a pitcher of drinks. The Wreck had opened for the day not too long ago.

“Tannyhill.” He said shortly, eyes wide and unexpecting as he leaned his forearms on the counter.

“So, you’re living with Sarah Cameron.” Kie said with a tight-lipped grimace.

“Look, the only reason I’m living there is ‘cause her dad bailed me out, alright?” The Routledge boy reassured, following you both out to the table where JJ and Pope were lounging inside of The Wreck. “And it’s way better than foster care which, by the way, is where I was about to go.”

“So, do you have membership to the clubs now?” Pope perked up curiously, legs kicked up on the wooden surface. Kiara sat the tray of fries down while you poured the drinks into each respective cup before taking a stand behind JJ’s chair that was next to Pope’s, leaning your arms over it as you bent nonchalantly behind him, stealing a fry from his hand over his shoulder.

“I don’t know, Pope.”

“What about those golf carts they drive around? You get one of them?” He questioned again, amusement in his brown eyes. “Does it come with a sweater vest or do you have to buy one of your own?”

“Look, you promised.” Kiara cut in disappointedly, returning back to the original topic of conversation. “You said you weren’t with her…” John B just shrugged as if he wasn’t caught in a lie.

“Bro, just own it. She’s got you.” JJ scoffed.

Kiara just ignored the blonde. “If you wanna hang out with her, that’s fine. But I’m letting you know that I’m not doing anything with Sarah.” She continued on, affirming the boy.

“Do you guys see her here?” JB cut in shortly, annoyed. “No? Right, okay. A little focus would be fantastic. We’ve got the map, right?”

“It’s out of whack ‘cause the guy was ganja’d when he drew it.” JJ piped in.

“It’s more so due to the fact that the coast has changed.” You offered, looking down at the blonde. “But it deffo looks like he drew it after ingesting a whole eddie and downing half a bottle of Everclear.”

“We just have to look for the landmarks that haven’t changed.” Pope spoke to no one in particular as he surveyed the map.

“What about the old forts?”

“Battery Jasper.” Kiara threw out with full confidence. Pointing to a clear spot on the map in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Looks were shared around the table before everyone shrugged, you all hopping up and heading outside of The Wreck and into The Twinkie.

“WE’RE IN BATTERY, RIGHT HERE.” Pope had the map pressed up against a rock, still reading it as the remaining four of you looked out at the expanse of land in front of you. Nothing but grass and trees for miles. “So if this is parcel nine, then it’s somewhere northeast of here. Over there.” He concluded, pointing ahead.

“That’s not Tannyhill,” JJ began, squinting his eyes. “That’s a subdivision.”

“Tannyhill Plantation was the entire island.” John B told him. “Over time, it got sold into smaller pieces.”

“So we’re looking for an old stone wall…” Pope pondered, heading back into the van without a word. The rest of you simply followed, loading into the van with JB as the driver and following Pope’s verbal lead. “The road should split up here. You’re gonna take a left.” He said after a few minutes of driving.

John B made an unnecessarily sharp left turn, sending the three of you in the backseat flying against the wall of the Twinkie. After a few curses and groans, you looked to see what was stone wall. “This is it.” Pope claimed.

“Are you kidding me?” Kiara exclaimed, hopping out of the van as the rest of you followed. Looking up at the house, it was immediately recognizable.

“The Crain House?” You asked incredulously, eyes wide and jaw slack.

“Worst-case scenario.” JJ quipped. “I heard that Mrs. Crain buried her husbands head on the property.”

“Honestly, I don’t really believe the stories about this place.” John B shrugged, taking the first step and leading the group through the thick mess of greenery that led up to the house itself. You were constantly swatting leaves and branches out of your field of vision as you walked.

“Which stories did you hear?” JJ inquired.

“The one where she killed her husband with an axe and that she’s been holed up ever since.” Kiara replied. “On certain nights, when the moon is full, you can see her in the windooow.” She teased, wiggling her fingers in a spooky motion.

“Okay, it’s not funny ‘cause it’s all true. I swear to God, guys, this is all real. I knew Hollis.” JJ preached.

“Hollis Crain? The daughter?” You asked, tilting your head in his direction as you dodged a branch.

“Yeah. She was my babysitter.” He told you, holding up the next branch for you to walk under, releasing it just in time to swat Pope in the forehead. “She told me all about it. About her mother, what happened in the house. As a kid, she heard all these stories about how her mother had killed her father. Hollis didn’t believe it. Until that night…” He trailed off.

You groaned at his dramatics, stopping in your tracks to cross your arms and shift your weight. “What night?” You asked, feeding into JJ’s theatrics.

“When Hollis was six years old, she heard her parents arguing downstairs. So, she goes down there to see her mom washing her hands in a sink full of blood. Her mother says she just cut her finger. Next morning? She says her father and her split up. But then, Hollis noticed something — her mother going in and out of the parlor constantly, hands full of plastic bags. Weeks pass and Hollis decides to use the outhouse. And as she’s using it, she looks down, and there, in the outhouse, is her father’s head looking straight back at her.”

“...You are so full of shit.” John B protested, throwing his head back and walking off.

“Wait! Dude…” JJ grabbed his best friend by the shoulder. “You sure you wanna do this? She’s an axe murderer and… you got a cast on.”

“I don’t give a shit, JJ.” John B said angrily. “I’ve got nothing to lose, right?” He threw the blonde’s words back at him. “You guys comin’ or what?” He spat before continuing his journey further onto the Crain property, the rest of you reluctantly following.

Stopping in what seemed to be a garden just a handful of feet from the front door, John B turned around. “Here's the plan. We need to look for the wheat near the water, like it said in Denmark’s Letter.”

“What kind of water? Like, pond water?” Pope replied.

JJ chuckled. “Bong water?” He tried to joke. John B just twisted his face and ignored at his childish tactics.

“Look, I don’t know, just look for water.” He demanded before continuing to lead the group. He crept around the foundation of the house, crouching in front of a small entrance that led under the structure. “C’mon, it’s the only place we haven’t looked.” He urged the four of you, turning on his flashlight and crawling through the entrance as the rest of you piled in, single-file behind him.

You coughed as you stood to your full height and dust filled your lungs. The crawlspace was filthy, smelly, and festering with mosquitos. You clicked on your mini flashlight, scanning the space.

“There’s not even water on the pipes.” JJ judged, rubbing his palm against the pipes that were so dry, the interaction sounded like nails on sandpaper.

“There’s not a drop of water here...” Pope said, irritated.

“Know why we didn’t find it?” Kie sighed, turning her sights to John B. “Bad karma.”

“God, here we go…” JB rolled his eyes.

“We had a good thing going. And then you decide to rope in Barbie and now, trail’s gone dry. Coincidence? I don't think so.” The brown-haired girl mouthed-off.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you about Sarah. What the hell’s the deal with you two?” Then his eyes landed on you, standing a few feet behind Kie between Pope and JJ who were also listening in on the not-so-hushed conversation. “You three.”

“I just got bit by three fatass mosquitos, I’d like to opt out of this particular conversation-” You spoke with a snarl, swatting another mosquito that flew across your vision as Kie’s voice sounded out again, cutting off yours.

“Nothing’s the deal.” She spat, offended.

“Is it because I kissed you? Is that your problem?” John B’s head whipped to the side when Kiara’s palm made harsh contact with his cheek, the remaining three of you making simultaneous ‘O’ faces of shock from the sidelines.

“Stop treating me like I’m some girl who’s obsessed with you instead of your best friend who’s actually trying to look out for you.” She reprimanded sternly.

“Did you, uh, hit me?” John B grimaced, turning back to face her. Kiara simply held up her right hand, her backs to the three of you.

“Skeeter.” Was all she said.

“Skeeter?”

“Yeah.” Then John B was slapping her back. You threw your hands up in the air as Pope exclaimed and JJ chuckled at the two.

“Woah, hey!” Pope threw out, then John B was holding up his right hand, this time with his palm on display since he was facing you all, presenting a flattened mosquito stuck to his palm.

“Skeeter.” He retorted firmly, eyes squinted. They started playfully slapping each other’s faces and arms back and forth as the remaining portion of you went back to looking once the show had ended. You flashed your light up and down, side to side but still nothing. And the mosquitos were eating you from the inside out…

Mosquitos.

Why were there so many mosquitos in a basement?

Aiming your flashlight down, you started tapping the toe of your foot lightly against the ground, catching a certain blonde’s attention.

“Tap dancing, are we?”

“No. Mosquitos.” You dismissed him in your focus, stepping up onto a wooden platform and tapping your foot on top of it. It sounded hollow. You paused, kneeling on top of the structure and knocking on it, still hearing that same hollowed-out echo.

“Yes, princess, there are mosquitos everywhere.”

You sighed, shining your light through the crack in the planks but it was pitch black. “Mosquitos swarm near water.” You told JJ. “Still water. They need it to hatch eggs. So, why would so many mosquitos be in a basement with seemingly no water?” You almost sounded like you were talking to yourself with the way you were mumbling, looking for something small, your sights landed on a small pebble in the gravel under the house, picking it up before dropping it through a space between the wood. Planting your ear against the ground, you waited, until seconds after dropping the stone, you heard water splash.

“You find somethin’?” JJ asked, you being unaware that he was still watching you. You turned to him with your full attention now.

“Help me move this.” You whispered to him, already starting to pull the planks up in a frenzy. The other three pogues seemed to notice that the two of you had found something and started to help move the planks until a good chunk of them were out of the way.

The five of stared down as a well stared back at you, a least a couple dozen feet deep.

“Well, well, well…” Pope muttered in the ring of silence.

“That was a good dad joke.” John B told him, never taking his eyes off the well, a smirk breaking out on his features. “We’re gonna need a really big rope.”

“NO FUCKING WAY.” Kiara spat, pacing the patio of The Chateau — Sarah Cameron was sat next to John B, presenting as unbothered as ever. You sat on the farthest cushion right across from JJ and Pope. “You brought her here? So what? She’s in on this now?”

John B looked to his two guy friends for help, Pope simply shrugging his shoulders and muttering an ‘I dunno’ before JJ threw his hands out. “All I care about is her cut coming out of your share.” He directed at JB, pointing his finger for emphasis.

“This is our thing.” Kiara scolded, pointing to everyone but Sarah to further prove her point.

“I’m just a tad uncomfortable with this…” Pope added.

“When are you not uncomfortable?” John B tried to defend the blonde girl.

“I rode here on the back of JJ’s bike pretty comfortably.” The curly-haired boy sassed back from JJ’s side.

“It’s true. Most relaxed I’ve ever seen him.”

“We were all comfortable until you brought her.” Kiara shot out, not making eye contact with Sarah, who had finally had enough.

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here!” Was the first thing the blonde girl had said since her arrival.

“I mean, you could always go home. Just a thought…” You spoke nonchalantly, shrugging from your seat across the patio. Sarah eyed you meanly before looking at John B, scoffing.

“I told you.” Your eyes squinted and your head tilted to the side.

“Told him what, exactly? That your a liar?” Kiara argued before Sarah’s attention whipped around to her.

“No, that you’re a shit-talking bitch.” She told Kie, turning to you next. “And you’re a lying slut.”

Chaos broke out — voices over voices, JJ and Pope betting money as the three of you argued over one another.

“When have I ever lied to you, Kiara?!”

“You get somebody close to you for like a month and then completely turn your back on them-”

“I’m a slut? I’m sorry, how many boyfriends have you cheated on? This year alone?-”

“Everybody, shut up!” John B stopped the arguing. “Kie, Y/n, you are my best friends, right?” Both of you just looked away, giving him his answer but not the satisfaction of hearing it. “And Sarah, you’re…”

“...Say it.” She said, a sly smile on her face.

“...You’re my girlfriend.” John B proclaimed, a boy-ish grin on his face. You couldn’t help but groan and throw your head back, all eyes turning to you as you brought your angry gaze back down.

“You met her like three whole days ago, John B.” You fussed, crossing your arms over one another. “What happened to using her for information? And I quote ‘getting what we need and cutting her loose’?”

“...You said you were using me?” Sarah asked her “boyfriend” sadly.

John B shook his head in the smallest of motions, avoiding her eyes at all costs. “No.”

“Yeah, you did.” Pope refuted his claim. “You said those things...”

“Look, love just walked in, okay?” He tried to reason with you all but you couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.

“Three days!” You laughed out.

“I didn’t expect it, it just kind of happened. And I’m not gonna deny it.” He continued, ignoring you.

“Well,” you got up from your seated position, hands slapping your knees. “If Clueless is in, count me out.” You told him, hands in your back pockets.

He shrugged like a child. “I’m not choosing, if that's what you're getting at.” He stated bluntly. You nodded your head, biting the inside of your cheek and looking around before deciding to walk off, heading for the dock.

“JUST CONSIDER IT.” JJ threw out the idea from his place beside you, leaning against the wood of the pier in front of The Chateau, Kiara and Pope having a separate conversation in front of you.

“I’m not considering anything, JJ.”

“You don’t have to like it. None of us do. But John B isn’t willing to choose and we can’t do this without you.”

“John B clearly can. He knew how we felt about her and he did everything we advised him not to do.” You snarled, looking out at the water. “None of you know her, not really. You think I just up and decided to hate Sarah Cameron one day? No.” You scoffed. “She creates a false sense of security and then when you start to rely on her, she uses it all against you.”

You both sat in silence, JJ not wanting to question you any further for the moment.

“What if he chooses her?” JJ asked you after a couple moments passed. You brought your eyes back to his, wind blowing your hair in your field of vision, voice small as you spoke.

“Then he’s a worse friend than I thought he was.”

YOU DECIDED TO MAKE YOUR WAY HOME AFTER WHAT WENT DOWN WITH JOHN B. You didn’t intend on making him choose between you or Sarah but you felt as if this whole thing had spiraled out of control. Maybe the biggest part was that you felt lied to. He promised there was nothing happening between them and when it came down to it, he couldn’t even make a decision between two of his life-long best friends and a girl he met less than a week ago. Something behind his logic, or lack of, struck a nerve within you.

Opening the front door to your Figure Eight home, you were greeted with two muddy paws against your thighs.

“Aww, Marley!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands out to the sides. “What did you get into?” You shook your head, patting the stains on your denim shorts as you kicked the door closed behind you and walked to peer out of the patio door, seeing holes galore in the backyard. You looked down at the animal, hand on your hip. “You know, she’s gonna flip.” You told the dog as if she could reply back.

Her fur was covered in brown and black, muddy paw prints left behind by her pattering feet. You just sighed, bending down to scratch the top of her head as she leaned into your hand. “Guess it’s my fault for leavin’ you. I’d go crazy if I was stuck here alone with her, too. C’mon,” You threw your head out in the direction of the garage door. “Let’s hose you off so I can cover your tracks.”

You started walking but stopped when you didn’t hear Marley trailing behind you. You peered back over your shoulder to see her sitting patiently. “No, absolutely not.” Was your reply to her pleading puppy-eyes, a whine leaving her closed lips. “I am not picking you up, Marley. You’re a big girl, c’mon.” The golden retriever made no move. “I’ll give you a treat after. You wanna a treat, girl?”

Her ears perked up in the slightest of motions and suddenly the medium-sized dog was sprinting towards you, basically running into the garage door that was still closed. You just giggled, opening the door for her to run out and hop into the metal tub in the parking space that was bought especially for her. Tying your hair back and grabbing the length of the hose, you started to hose down your mess of a dog.

YOU WERE SOAKED BY THE END OF MARLEY’S BATH. You smelled of Pumpkin Spice pet shampoo and wet dog, strands of golden hair stuck to your arms and legs as you rinsed out the tub and let it flow down the driveway. The dog in question was probably running a muck in your room where you’d locked her so you could clean up in peace — covering up the holes in the backyard to the best of your ability and mopping the floors.

Once the dog-tub was water-free, you kicked it back to it’s original position in the corner of the garage. The sound of your mother’s SUV pulling up into the driveway could be heard as you turned the hose off and put it away. She must not have seen you in the dark of the garage as she got out of the car, heels hitting the concrete as she slammed the driver’s side door shut. Her cell phone was pressed between her shoulder and ear and she fought to get her purse up onto her arm.

“I don’t care what you do, Cameron. Or how you do it for that matter. Just do something because this is both of our asses on the line.” She spat to whoever was on the other end of the line — Cameron? Maybe it was a new hire at the office.

Her eyes shot up and seemed to finally register your presence, a look of shock filling her features for a moment before it faded into something else. Something more irritated. “We’ll talk about this later. Hopefully, you’ll have gotten rid of the problem by then.” Was all she said before hanging up.

You had turned back around at this point, focused on putting Marley’s bath supplies back into their respective cabinets and shelves.

“I didn’t expect you home.”

“Neither did I.” You replied bluntly.

“You know, it’d be nice if you could be home more often. You still have responsibilities, and that dog does whatever it wants.”

You stood to your full height, facing her now as you crossed your arms. “I could say the same for you.”

She scoffed, shifting her weight. “I have work. A job. You just run around with your delinquent friends all day and night. Your room is empty for days on end.”

You shrugged, jutting your bottom lip out. “What are you lonely, or something? We barely talk when I am home.”

“You want to talk? Let’s talk.” She crossed her own arms, staring you down.

“Not really-”

“I heard John B had a pretty nasty fall from The Hawk’s Nest last night and you and your friends were there.” You veered your neck back at her statement, a look of offense written across your face.

“What’re you keeping tabs on me now?”

She just shrugged and shifted, pointing her chin towards the ceiling as if she knew she had you cornered. “Word travels fast on the island. The real question is what were you kids doing up there in the middle of a thunderstorm? Everything I hear about that little posse of yours is dangerous.”

All you could was laugh humorlessly, pushing yourself off of the garage wall and heading for the door back inside of the house. “I’m not doing this with you.” You told the woman, shaking your head.

“Answer the question, Y/n!” She called after you, following you into the three-story house and slamming the garage door closed behind her.

“No! I’m covered in mud, water, and dog hair and you’re pissing me off!” You were practically stomping up the stairs. “Everytime I come back to this house you interrogate me. Calling my friends delinquents as if these aren't kids you’ve known for years!”

“Well, clearly I have good reason to-” You stopped at the top of the stairs, turning and staring down at your mother who was still at the bottom, making no moves to follow you up.

“Maybe it’s time I question you because I have a fair few of my own.” You spat. “How did you find about the Hawk’s Nest because there were only six of us there when it happened? When did you and Shoupe get all buddy-buddy? Or better yet, how’d you manage to scrape up the money to buy a house on Figure Eight so suddenly? And don’t think I’m dumb enough to believe my father’s life insurance was enough to cover it.”

She didn’t say anything. Anything at all. Your mother just stared up at you with a look on her face that you’d never seen before it. It was angry, dark — borderline evil. It made your heart thump out of your chest and your knees get weak. It was a look that a parent should never direct at their child.

With one last glare, you turned your back and went into your own bathroom to clean yourself up, not neglecting to slam the door behind you.

YOU SIGHED AS YOU HOPPED FROM THE HMS POGUE ONTO HEYWARD’S BOAT. After your shower, Pope had picked you up from the short pier in the back of your house with Kie lounging in the boat. He said something about JJ and John B needing a tow after conking out in the middle of The Marsh.

Approaching Heyward’s boat that was still in the middle of The Marsh, you and Kie edged towards the front of the HMS Pogue, preparing to step off. Extending your legs, you made it onto the other boat without fail, Kiara following you into the Alp where the two boys in question were.

“What did you do?” You asked annoyed, still reeling from the events of earlier — both of them.

“The alternators not…alternating, anymore.” JJ told you, throwing his hands out.

“Did you check the plugs?” Kiara suggested, stepping in front of you and approaching the boys as you leaned on the entryway.

“No, you should check ‘em. Give ‘em whirl.” They handed her whatever tool they’d been using, stepping away.

“You guys are useless…” You let the two guys walk by you, stepping further into the space with Kie. “Uh, is this a joke? There are no plugs, like at all.” She muttered.

Suddenly, you heard water splashing, turning around and walking back out to see that JJ and John B had jumped into the water and were swimming towards the HMS Pogue that was getting farther and farther away.

“What’re you-” You started, cut off by the sound of banging coming from below the deck of the boat.

“John B! John B, let me out!” Came an unmistakable voice. In a haste, you lifted the hatch in the floor, coming face to face with Sarah Cameron. Not giving her time to speak, you just huffed and ran towards the edge of the boat.

“What the fuck?!” You yelled at the three boys across the water, Kiara and Sarah on each side of you now. Both equally as angry as you. “Are you serious?”

“Get your asses back here!” Kiara demanded.

“We can’t!” Pope shrugged with a sly smile. “Not until you three work out your issues!”

“You can’t just leave!” Sarah tried.

“There’s food in the cabin and JJ rolled a blunt!” John B shouted back. The three of you ignored them, kicking off your overalls and stripping down to your bikinis.

“This is ridiculous…” The blonde girl muttered under her breath, kicking her shorts off of her ankles.

“Well, I’d rather drown than be here with you, so…” Kiara retorted, taking her shirt off.

“Fine. Be my guest. Maybe you’ll finally shut the hell up.” Sarah shot back.

“You don’t even know where you’re going.” The two girls continued arguing as the three boys drifted farther away.

“I don’t care.” Was all the Cameron girl said back before jumping into the Marsh water, just as Pope revved up the engine on the smaller boat and they sped away. Sarah cursed them before turning around and swimming back to the boat, screaming and going under before popping back up.

“Ah! I got stung by a jellyfish! Shit!” She cried, still swimming back to the boat.

You rolled your eyes and turned away from her, fixing the ties on your swim suit. “Maybe next time don’t jump into The Marsh.” You reprimanded meanly.

“Thanks for the advice, after the fact.” She retorted, climbing onto the boat and sliding against the side.

“It’s not like you listen anyway...” You shrugged, leaning against the boat.

“Kiara, you know what they say about curing jellyfish stings,” Sarah ignored you, talking through heavy breaths and looking up at the brown-haired girl. “You have to pee on me.”

The girl simply cringed. “I have a better idea.”

NIGHT HAD FALLEN AND YOU WERE SURE THE GUYS WEREN’T COMING BACK FOR THE THREE OF YOU ANYTIME SOON. The night air was cool and Sarah was high off of the weed left behind, courtesy of JJ himself. She’d been laughing and talking about nothing non-stop for the last hour.

Kie was sat next to her in the cockpit of the boat while you sat on the hardtop, swinging your feet.

“Hey,” Sarah piped up, interrupting her own giggling. “Would you rather…have, I was imagining you like this just now, it was pretty funny.” She was directing the question at Kiara. “Would you imagi- would you rather…have nipples for eyes or have eyes for nipples? Imagine if you get really old and your nipples, your boobs get saggy, your nipples, if they were your eyes, you could see if your shoes were untied.”

She attempted to laugh it off in her impaired state but took the hint when Kie gave her a side glance, no humor present in her expression. “Is this like your first time smoking or something?”

“...No.” Sarah said lowly, looking down.

“Could’ve fooled me.” You muttered, annoyed by the girls incessant laughter and talking.

After a couple moments of tense silence, Sarah attempted to speak again. “Hey, Kiara…”

“Oh my God.” She cut her off. “Enough the ‘Hey, Kiara’ bullshit.” She turned her entire body to face the blonde, a hard look in her eyes. “Why’d you do it?”

“...Why’d I do what?” Sarah played dumb.

“We were best friends.” Kiara started solemnly. “We stole beers from your dad’s fridge, we watched movies together, we cried about boys...” She reminisced. “And the next thing I know, the entire school thinks I have a crush on you because you started a rumor that I did.”

“It was just a joke.” Sarah tried to dismiss, rolling her eyes.

“To who? Because it wasn’t funny for me. And when it spun out of control? When it went from people saying I had a crush on you to saying I tried to kiss you? To saying I was stalking you? That I had a shrine? Was it still just a joke then?” She reprimanded. “You never even bothered to clear it up. Just fed into it. You just cut me off like nothing happened. I mean, really, what did I do?”

You continued watching the interaction happen from the hardtop of the boat. “You liked me.” Sarah blurted. “...When people get close to me, I feel trapped. And…I bail. And then I blame them for it.” She got out, turning to look Kiara in the eyes. “I’m really sorry…And I miss you.” Then her eyes were on you. “Both of you. Do you think there’s a chance that we could be okay again?” She was looking at Kiara again.

“Honestly. I don’t know.” Sarah simply nodded and bit her lip, accepting the answer before turning her sights to you once more.

“Y/n?” She called. You assumed she was waiting for your answer to the same question, all you could manage was a huff of air to leave your lips.

“What a bunch of bullshit.” You breathed out, an incredulous smile on your face as you looked away for moment. You could hear Kiara sigh.

“Y/n-”

“No, Kiara. If you want to forgive her, by all means be my guest. But me and you?” Your eyes were on Sarah, glaring at her. “We will never be ‘okay’ again.” You mocked.

“What do you want from me?” Sarah spat out. “I apologized-”

“You apologized to Kie. Not me.”

“Well, I’m sorry. For…whatever I did.” She slurred, slouching further against the inside of the boat.

“Whatever you did?”

“You were the one sneaking around with my brother, Y/n!”

“And you're still downplaying the situation! That’s not what happened nor is it why our friendship ended and you know it.” You disputed, anger filling your tone.

“Our friendship ended because you tried to make the situation into something it wasn’t.”

“You never even considered the possibility that what I told you was true. You called me a liar, turned me into the school slut-”

“He’s my brother.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s not a bad person, Sarah!” You said with finality in your voice. “And if you can’t see that, then maybe that makes two of you.” Was the last thing you said before hopping down from the top of the boat and disappearing around the corner, away from the two girls.

THE THREE OF YOU SAT ON THE EDGE OF THE BOAT, WATCHING THE BOYS ARRIVE AS THE SUN CAME UP. You’d slept in the helm of the boat while Kiara and Sarah slept out in the open. You hated to admit how lonely you felt hearing them giggle in the middle of the night but it was quickly overshadowed by the memories of what was said between you and Sarah. A small part of you wondered how Kiara could forgive her so quickly. So easily.

“Let’s not give them the satisfaction of thinking this worked.” Kiara whispered to the blonde next to her. You simply kept quiet. Because for you, it didn’t.

“So, did you guys, you know…” Pope led on as the smaller boat parked next to the bigger one. You said nothing as you hopped off the edge, from one boat to the other.

“Reconcile our differences?” Kie finished for him.

“Nope. Not even a little.” Sarah shook her head. “But we’re…willing to work together?” She said, turning to Kiara who nodded in agreement as they both stepped onto the HMS Pogue.

“You know what? That’s victory.” JB cheered, dapping up Pope. “You guys ready to jack some loot?”

YOU ALL WAITED UNTIL IT GOT DARK ONCE MORE TO RETURN TO THE CRAIN PROPERTY, FULL PREPARED THIS TIME. Rope, pulley, flashlights. You were equipped with the gold-mine starter kit and ready to throw John B down into a well beneath a murder-house.

Parking in front of the house but still out of sight, John B hopped out of the driver’s side to round the van and open the side door, pausing. “I wanna say thank you guys. Seriously.” He told the five of you whole-heartedly. “It means a lot to me that you’re here tonight.”

“Of course, man.” Pope assured him softly, giving him a special handshake.

“All right, we done with this circle jerk?” JJ cut in. “Can we go do this?”

“Let’s go get that wheat in the water.” Pope exclaimed, jumping out of the van first, followed by Kie, then Sarah.

“Weed? I’m up for weed.” JJ said, letting you get out before him. You rolled your eyes, a small smile breaking on your face as you climbed out of the van. The first one in hours.

“Wheat, J. He said wheat.” You corrected. You all formed a sort of single-file line, hopping the fence one by one. You all walked as quietly as you could through the tall grass and bushes, sticking as close together as possible. Out of the blue, a light in front of the house lit up your frames, the six of you scrambling to duck and hide, turning your flashlights off.

“Why would a blind lady need motion sensor lights?” You hissed frustratedly confused.

“Let’s throw a rock at it.” John B offered. You all looked at him stupidly.

“That’s a really good idea. Let the axe murderer know that we’re here.” Kiara said sarcastically.

“Do any of you have a better idea?”

“What about the breaker in the circuit box on the porch?” Sarah asked. “We used to play hide-and-seek here as kids and if we were brave enough, we’d go all the way up to the porch.”

“No, no, you’re not going into the house alone.” John B protested.

“I’ll go with you.” Kiara volunteered herself before turning to you. You simply raised a brow as if to ask ‘what?’. Only then did you notice that the rest of the group was staring at you as well, then you got the hint, smacking your teeth.

“Christ, fine, I’ll go, too. Just… stop looking at me like hungry orphans.” You mumbled, getting up and walking towards the house, slightly crouched.

“We’ll wait for your signal!” Pope whisper-shouted as the three of you disappeared into the thick of the bushes. You let Sarah lead the way, seeing as she had an idea of where you were going and what you were looking for.

“She must have a generator plugged into the main power supply.” Sarah informed from the front of the line. The three of you crept up the porch steps, the wood creaking ever so slightly as you did. You aimed your flashlight at the circuit box in question, using your empty hand to open it. You quickly noted a problem.

“Where are the breakers?” Your face twisted in confusion, visually following the wires that were connected to the box. “It goes inside.” You said annoyed, pushing the circuit box door back closed. You turned back to the two girls behind you, a weary look shared amongst the three of you before Kie took it upon herself to carefully open the gate in front of the back door, twisting the knob quickly but quietly.

Pushing the door open, the three of you slid inside swiftly as the door creaked, making your face twist. You all treaded carefully through the dark home. You nearly jumped out of your skin when a cat yowled beside you.

“Shi- get out of here you mangy thing!” You whispered, pushing the feline away with the toe of your shoe. You follow the wires on the ceiling to the location of the breakers, Kiara wasting little time in switching the generator off, the house and surrounding areas going pitch black as she did.

You all let out sighs of relief, small victorious smiles breaking out on each of your faces. “We should probably get out of here now.” You advised, the other two agreeing. You hadn’t even lifted your foot to step away before a whirring sound echoed throughout the house, the three of you throwing yourselves against the wall and out of sight of whatever was around the corner.

You could barely hear one another breathing, contemplating whether you should stay put or make a break for it. It wasn’t long before you heard the sound of heavy-breathing and what sounded like a cane hitting the floor accompanied by delayed footsteps.

You could feel your heart in throat as you tried your hardest not to move a muscle, the footsteps growing closer by the second. Fear rushing through your veins when you heard a voice call out.

“It’s late, Leon.” An old, raspy, elderly voice spoke — Mrs. Crain. “Too late...” She coughed, cane still hitting the floor ferociously with every step. You swore you could’ve cried when the woman in question rounded the corner, standing right in front of you three with no clue. “I can hear you, Leon. I’ve been waiting all night!” She screeched, whipping her head in your direction so fast you were surprised her neck didn’t snap in the process.

Her teeth were yellow, her hair was dead and gray, and her eyes were white. Pure white. The three of you screamed simultaneously before booking it in the direction you came. You don’t know how you ended up splitting from each other but you did. You ended up in some old dusty study-type room, the only exit being a window. You ran over to it, using all your strength to pull it up but it wouldn’t budge.

“Where are you, Leon?!” Her voice scratched your ears with the way it echoed. You cursed as you continued pulling at the window, eventually giving up and running out of the room. Fortunately, you ran in just time to find Mrs. Crain swinging aimlessly at Kiara with a fire poker. You took the opportunity to grab the object when she swung it back once more, snatching it and throwing it across the room.

Sarah entered just as the old lady turned around and gripped you by the arm, the blonde grabbing Kiara as you pushed Mrs. Crain off of you and ran into the room with the other two. Sarah closed and latched the door shut, Mrs. Crain banging from the other side.

She’d managed to find the stairs the led under the house where the guys were, you and Kiara following her down in a hurry.

“Guys!” All three of you called, sprinting through the crawlspace.

“Woah, what’s goin’ on?” JJ asked as you accidentally ran into him, the blonde stabilizing by your upper arms.

“Mrs. Crain is up there. She’s trying to kill us with a fire poker.” Kiara breathed out.

“We locked her in the parlor but we have to go. Like, now.” You said frantically.

“Okay, code red.” JJ said, releasing your arms and heading back towards Pope. He leaned over the well, shouting down. “John B! Get back on, man!” The rest of you grabbed the length of the rope, using all of your man power to pull the boy back up when the you all fell, the rope pulling up nothing.

“Where is he?” Kiara panicked, crawling to the well to lean over it. “John B?!” His voice came back up but no one could tell what he was saying. It was just a faint echo. His next words were clearer, however — he was calling your names.

“He’s drowning! We gotta pull him up!” Sarah assumed the worst as you scrambled to grab the rope again.

“John B? Get back on the rope, we’re gonna pull you up!” Pope called down into the well. Once JB affirmed that he was secured, the five of you began pulling once more, much more synchronized this time. You were using all the strength you had to pull him up when a gunshot made your ears ring.

You ducked, as did the rest of the group, your grip on the rope loosening. Pope and JJ hurried to tie the rope so it wouldn’t drop any further as you all scurried around the crawlspace, hoping the blind woman would think you were gone.

Only problem? None of you knew how to shut the hell up. Another shot rang out and that’s when you all decided you had to make a run for it. You saw John B’s muddy hand gripped the edge of the well before you bolted, knowing he’d be a little behind but just fine. You sprinted out into the yard, practically launched yourself back over the gate and threw yourselves into the van.

JJ started the van without John B inside as more gunshots sounded, the boy running behind his own van for dear life.

“John B, come on!” The boy caught up, launching himself into the back of the van and sliding the door shut as JJ sped off.

“Everyone okay? No bullet holes?” JJ questioned from the driver’s seat.

“I think I’d know if I was shot, right?” Kiara asked, hands patting her frame.

“You look disgusting.” Pope breathed out, the statement directed at John B who looked more like a mud-man than a teenage boy.

“And you smell even worse, my God.” Your face winded with disgust.

“What the hell just happened?” Sarah ran her hands through her hair, throwing her head back.

“All-time Pogue Hall of Fame, baby!” JJ cheered, giving you a high-five as you basically sat back to back as he drove.

“That bitch is possessed.” Kiara said.

“How can she move that fast?” John B breathed out, and you wondered how he could talk without minding the substance all over his face, including his lips.

Suddenly, John B pulled something from his pocket or under his thigh, it was hard to tell when he was the same color all over. “What is that?” You asked, squinting your eyes as he used his thumb to wipe away the debris on the object, revealing the unmistakable color of gold. “...No motherfucking way.” You scoffed.

“We did it, baby!” He whooped, holding the gold bar up in the air. “I did it!”

“Oh, my God!” JJ supported him as he drove, eyes looking back when they should on the road. The van was filled with cheers, so loud you were sure any houses you passed on the road could hear.

“You guys were gonna be rich!” Kiara broke through the cheers. “Like Kook rich!”

“Full Kook!” Pope started, the rest of you joining in joyously. The Twinkie had never been more lively or celebratory. After days of being chased, shot at, arrested, jumped, and targeted — you all had done it.

You had found the gold.

next chapter >

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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cupidcures · 8 months ago

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When Tulips Kiss | Hwang Hyunjin SMAU

CHAPTERS: 𝜗𝜚 ten | eleven | 𝜗𝜚 twelve

WORD COUNT: 2.1k (not proofread)

nintendo

“Are you sure this is a good idea…” You paused and laughed nervously as you near the place where they all lived, and that’s including the one and only, Hwang Hyunjin. “I don’t wanna intrude on you and your friends’ personal space.” You finished and fidgeted with the basket of fruits you made for them. Although they made it clear that you’re welcome any time, you can’t help but feel like you shouldn’t come, especially considering how things were before. But maybe it’s better to leave things in the past and forget about it? You felt a gentle pressure as you looked to the right of you and saw Minho squeezing your shoulder with a softened expression.

“You’ll be fine, I already told the boys and they’re fine with it. If you don’t want to then it’s totally okay and I could walk you back to your dorm, but if the only reason why you’re hesitating is because you’re nervous about my friends, they’re really nice I promise. They’ll love you, and you’ll love them too.” Minho reassured you gently to try to loosen you up a bit and ease you, and it worked, sorta.

“Okay, I’ll come. Sorry about that, just nervous that’s all. Now let’s go!” You lifted your head up to look more confident as the man beside held your hand and led you toward the front door. It doesn’t take very long until you get there, probably 10-20 seconds until Minho takes his keys out with a jingle and unlocks the door, opening wide for you to enter. You thank him, but the moment you enter, you could feel the confidence slowly seep out of your body. Looking back at Minho for confirmation, he nods at you to continue, and you sigh and take your shoes off, leaving them by the entrance. You shook off the nervous feeling you were experiencing the best you could, as the fragrant aroma came to your attention.

“What’s that smell?” You asked as your stomach grumbled, leaving you to chuckle shyly and Minho to laugh at you, in a lighthearted way of course.

“When I told the group chat that I was bringing you over, Felix wanted to make some ramen so you had something to eat while you were here. That means he cares about you, by the way.” He responded and took you to the dining room where you placed the fruit basket, then to the living room to meet his friends. In real life, this time. Chan was on his phone scrolling, Changbin and Jeongin were playing Super Smash Bros on the TV, and you assumed Felix was in the kitchen. Gosh, you can’t think of any other time when you were this nervous before, and you don’t understand why. You didn’t have trouble with socializing even if you were more on the quiet side. Maybe it’s because you guys didn’t have a good first impression?

“Hey guys I’m back, this is Y/N as you all already know.” Minho introduced and grinned proudly as they all turned their head to the both of you as you shyly waved.

“Hello!” You greeted them as they all said their responses.

“Hey Y/N, you look great!”

“Y/Nnieeeee hello!!~”

“Y/N HI!! SORRY, I’M ALMOST DONE, I’ll bring it over there as soon as it’s ready!!”

“Y/Nnie we’re so glad you’re here! Come watch us play!” Jeongin beamed and took you away from Minho before sitting you down on the couch, fist-bumping Changbin while you were at it. You watched as Jeongin won against Changbin in every single race and how Chan would cheer and pat him on the back, then go to comfort Changbin who stood up and threw a fit as a joke, prompting everyone in the room laughed at his childish behavior. Minho sat down next to you after coming back from… Well, you don’t really know, but somewhere in the house. Felix eventually came out from the kitchen, bringing out seven bowls of ramen for all of us to enjoy. Wait.. seven?

“Ramen is ready!!!!!” Felix exclaimed with a shit ton of energy before sitting down on the floor.

“Thank you for the meal, Felix! OH RIGHT! I brought the fruits that you guys wanted in a basket! I’ll get it!” You remembered and got up to the dining room table to transfer the fruits to the living room table instead. The boys erupted in cheers as you brought the fruits out, causing you to let out a light giggle at their excitement.

“See? You fit right in.” Minho whispered in your ear and then gave you a tender smile, which you returned to him. You then turned to Felix to ask him who that seventh bowl was for, that was until a certain someone appeared in your vision. Fuck. And of course, it was for Hyunjin. It totally slipped your mind that he was part of this group. You didn’t know it then, but your gaze on him lingered a little too long for it to be considered normal. His hair was disheveled and his cheeks were glowing bright red. You must’ve been staring for a while because Hyunjin ended up looking your way and made eye contact with you. He raised an eyebrow and you pried your eyes off of his, looking back down at the food.

“Yo Hyunjin! Come on and sit down, let’s all eat together!” Chan patted the space next to him and you sighed to yourself, as the empty space Chan told him to sit at happened to be right in front of you.

Jeongin waited for Hyunjin to sit down before clasping his hands together, “Alright! Thank you for the food! Let’s all eat well!” He cheered and picked up his chopsticks as we all waited for him to take the first bite, then proceeding to eat after he did. The atmosphere in the room was lively and so SO warm. You sat back and observed how everybody interacted with one another, and you smiled to yourself. If you were being honest, you caught yourself staring at Hyunjin more than you’d like to admit, but the way he joked around and messed around with his friends almost made you forget about what happened, and only remember all the good parts about him. Keyword: Almost. You snapped out of it and continued to eat your food, joining in the conversation here and there. You weren’t used to this particular group setting, and it was obvious. At least, to Jeongin, and the guy that you used to know. Almost everyone here was so nice to you and was always trying to include you in on the conversations so you don’t feel left out, and you’re grateful for it. You did your best to flow with the conversations, and for the most part, it worked. You felt your eyelids getting heavy and so you rested your head on Minho’s shoulder and you felt him stiffen up for a moment, before relaxing and wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in closer. You closed your eyes simply just to rest them, but you stayed listening to the conversations the boys held with each other. But in timely fashion, you felt a pair of eyes staring at you after you had closed your eyes. Everything in you told you to not open your eyes, as deep down you knew whose eyes you would meet when you opened yours, but you did it anyway. To your surprise, you made eye contact with Hyunjin once again, but that wasn’t what surprised you. It was the glossy sheen in his eyes that made them sparkle even more than they usually did.

Was he.. about to cry?

Concern and worry flashed through your mind, and you cursed at yourself for still caring for him after everything. You waited until he looked away first, but just like 4 years ago, his eyes stayed on you, and all you wanted at that moment was to be able to read his mind and see what he was thinking. You were sure that if the two of you stayed looking at each other for any longer, someone would notice, so you forced yourself to look away and lift your head off of Minho’s shoulder.

“Everything alright?” He patted your head as you giggled and nodded.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Where’s your bathroom?” You questioned as he told you how to get there, so you thanked him with a kiss on the cheek as the boys around “ooooo’d” at the interaction teasingly. You use the couch as support to help you stand up as you walk your way to the bathroom, once again, feeling a pair of eyes burning the back of your head. You enter the bathroom and close the door just to stare at yourself in the mirror. You let out a conflicted sigh while you took this time to fix your hair and makeup.

“Why did he look like he was about to cry..?” You mumbled quietly to yourself, thinking of all the possible reasons, apparently all possible reasons BUT the most obvious one.

Once you finish putting chapstick on, you open the door to join the rest of the group, only to be pushed back inside by Hyunjin. A rush of emotions rushed over you in an instant as he closed the door behind him and locked the door.

“What are you doing?” Hyunjin crosses his arms, demanding an answer out of you, but all you can do is look at him with a disoriented look. He stares at you a little more longer before exhaling in frustration and brushing his hair back, one of his habits you remember from years ago.

“What’s your goal here Y/N? Why are you doing this to me??” He urged in a hushed manner to not attract any attention from outside.

“I’m doing nothing to you Hwang. Why are you so vague and yet you expect me to know what you’re talking about? I can’t read what’s on your mind so can you please, for ONCE, be forward with it??” You looked away from him, copying his body language and crossing your arms as well. He leaned his head and back against the wall and looked to the floor. He stayed silent for a while, and it was killing you. The silence between the two of you was deafening, the only noises you heard were the distant chatters of your friends in the next room.

“Stop calling me Hwang, please. You know me as Hyunjin and, as far as I know, we’ve passed the surname stage a long time ago…” Hyunjin took a breath in and you turned your attention back on the boy, waiting for him to continue. “You’re hurting me, again. And you don’t even know it. Or maybe you do, and you just don’t care. I hate seeing you around. I hate seeing you laugh and I hate seeing you happy.” Hyunjin takes a step towards you and looks into your eyes, desperately searching for something, but you didn’t know what it was that he was searching for. His words felt like a punch to the gut, and you could feel your lips start to quiver. You already knew he felt this way about you, so why are you so hurt over this?

“Tell me something I don’t know.” You spoke to him in a bitter tone, attempting to cover up the aching feeling in your chest.

God, just let this conversation end already.

“Tell you something you don’t know? Okay. I hate all of it because it hurts me. It fucking hurts seeing you so happy when I’m not even with you, when we hate each other. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was NEVER supposed to be like this, how could you be so happy?” Hyunjin bit his lip, cheeks flushed, partially because of the fact he was still drunk, but mostly because he was embarrassed.

“What do you mean? You hate me that much that you don’t wanna see me happy?” You furrowed your brows together and put your hand under his chin to make him look at you.

“…..Are you serious?” He stared into your eyes in disbelief, looking for any ounce of dishonesty, but there wasn’t any. There was just confusion. And so he laughed, leaving you only more confused.

“Nevermind. Forget this ever happened, I’m drunk anyway. I don’t know what I was thinking. I hate you so much. I hate you so fucking much for ruining us.” Hyunjin stepped back while shaking his head with tears welling up in his eyes, but before you could even open your mouth to say something, he opens the bathroom door and goes inside his room.

Hyunjin locks his bedroom door and throws himself on his bed, exasperated. He convinces himself that it hurts him to see you around and happy because of how much he hates you. But we all know that if you were around for him, if you were happy because of him, if it were him instead of Minho, he would finally realize that it’s not hate that he’s feeling. But it isn’t him, so he’ll never realize it.

a/n: sooo… hyunjin struggles with communication and y/n is painfully oblivious to everything! 🤗 also sorry… i didn’t expect for this part to be a written one ngl

𝜗𝜚 WTK series masterlist

TAGLIST (OPEN)! @jeonginplsholdmyhand @jeonginsgirl @mlrroh @mafiulaputaama @seungzsmin @hannie-bees @skz1lov @porang-poranglinos @sillyhal @mitchii @nessas-archive @soulphoenix1618 @gnab-nahc @yongbokkiesworld @hyunjins-dimples @nappynapnaps @0914-space @isagerada

if your blog is underlined, it means i wasn’t able to tag you :’(

#when tulips kiss #stray kids #skz #stray kids smau #stray kids social media au #hyunjin smau #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #han jisung #skz han #skz jisung #lee know #skz minho #bang chan #changbin #jeongin #skz i.n #lee felix #skz felix

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kissitbttr · 1 year ago

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If you’re open to it, I’d love to request reader leaving scratches on frat!miguel’s back from a good time, and Miguel’s teammates or brothers seeing them and teasing him!! But secretly he loves that everyone knows 💕

“damn.. someone had a good time last night” glen snickers as he watches shirtless miguel with messy hair walk down the stairs before heading towards the kitchen,

miguel rolls his eyes yet can’t help but smile, rubbing his sleepy eyes before yawning. “morning, man. do we have some cheerios left? or captain crunch. doesn’t matter”

glen frowns, shaking his head. “no more of that. coach will kill you. here” he tosses a half sandwich to his way before miguel catches it. “plus, your girl told me to give you more nutritious food. said she’ll chop my balls off if she ever catches me giving you any more of that sugary stuff. and i am not risking that”

“she did huh? sounds like her” he chuckles before taking a bite of the beef sandwich. “what time should we head to practice again?”

“seven. but coach wants us there 20 minutes before for some drills” glen informs, moving a chair next to him. “she’s not up yet?”

“nah” miguel responds, stealing a cup of someone else’s oj off the marble top. “figured i let her sleep in until we’re done with practice. she looks so cute while sleeping you guys know that?”

“we know” glen and beck responds in unison. “you tell us that shit all the time, o’hara”

“well sorry for having a pretty ass girlfriend. arrest me” he puts his hands up. “i’ll get ready in ten. who’s car are we—“

“yo o’hara?! the fuck did that girl do to you, bro?!”

carlos laughs out loud as he appears from behind, making the others jump. miguel’s eyebrows move into a confused frown as the other boys begin to scramble to see what he’s talking about. when they see it, a laugh breaks out of their mouths. fingers pointing at the couple of thin pink scars decorating his back,

“what? the fuck are you guys looking at?!”

“man… she got you good” monty nods with a huge smile, clapping his shoulder. “you seriously don’t feel that?”

“feel what?” miguel looks over his shoulder to see but fails to. then he moves to the nearest mirror and that’s when he realizes. “oh… well fuck me”

“she does that a lot?”

“yeah but… never this far” miguel’s lips turn into a cocky smirk and a chuckle follows after. “that’s the first”

“you look like you just got jumped by twenty cats, o’hara” beck comments, chugging his orange juice,

“ as if gloria doesn’t do the same to you”

“she always got her nails clipped, so no. that shit hurt”

“just admit that you’re a pussy” miguel takes a big bite of the sandwich, earning a flip off from glen. “because i’d let my girl do anything to me. that includes marking me. not that i would ask her to. she does it anyway”

carlos whistles, plopping down the chair next to him. “she’s a keeper then” miguel hums in agreement, “you think if you both broke up, she’ll go for me?”

miguel shoves him so hard he falls off the chair and lands on the floor with a loud thud.

#frat!miguel #miguel o’hara blurbs

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monkeyzilla · 7 months ago

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CAN I RANT ABOUT KEN SATO??? AM I ALLOWED TO? BECAUSE I WILL. ALSO LMK IF I GET DETAILS WRONG!!! LMAO!! I watched the film like 4 times I don’t think I should have missed out on anything or gotten anything wrong but if I do let me know I’m not good at writing shit like this😭

I wanted to talk about the themes of “balancing” mixed cultural identity being kinda hinted at bc it’s something I immediately picked up as an Asian living in a western country. I’m not even gonna say it’s an “interpretation” because I feel like it was quite obviously hinted at would be pretty easy to pick up for anyone that has a similar experience as mine.

In that first interview with Ami, Ken stated that people made fun of him for the way he looked, talked and behaved when he first moved to the US. Since he was born and raised in Japan for a bit, he kept most of that culture that he grew up suffered by with him and got alienated for being too Japanese or not white enough. It’s a really negative experience that I think most people, me included can relate to because you can’t control the fact that you have a particular ethnic background, or that you look a certain way.

But like I also think living in the US for a significant amount of time has also influenced the way he thinks and talks too, the press conference scene stands out with him repeatedly saying bro, as well as the baseball match where he got mocked and told that he should just “go back to America”. It’s kinda clear for most of the film that he’s “not Japanese” enough too.

It’s a difficult situation because on one hand he’s “too Japanese” in America but not “Japanese enough” in his home country. There’s this feeling that there’s no pleasing anyone here! So I believe to avoid having to “balance” his American and Japanese identity, he does things “his own way”. Or “giving the people something else to talk about” in his own words. At least that’s how I’ve interpreted it, idk if I’m stretching or yapping too much.

Him doing things the “Ken Sato” way is a kinda funny excuse for him to do whatever he wants, but I also think it’s just an excuse to avoid sticking to one “culture” (identity), because he can’t. Going back to the the first one-on-one interview with Ami, she points out that he’s eating noodles the “wrong way” and while it is just one single action, to me it seems representative of Ken’s behaviour as a whole when being confronted about tradition or culture. Am I wording that right? I’m not good at articulating complicated thoughts because I have A LOT!! It’s just difficult to type it out.

I just think the inclusion of all of these seemingly insignificant scenes makes Ken’s character seven more meaningful as a someone who’s Asian-Australian because I relate to it so much!! I just wanted to share my own thoughts and feelings about this movie and the little themes it hints at bc I don’t know any other big animated film that mentions this kinda experience😭 I’m not sure if Ken’s experience with his heritage/identity was intentional or not but it seems hinted at enough for it to be a purposeful inclusion, at least that’s how I see it.

I do wish they could’ve explored it a bit more in depth, maybe showing Ken’s life in America a lot more because I doubt they’d go back to it in the possible sequel, but I’m happy nonetheless because I feel really seen when I watch Kenji talk about his own experience. Sorry for yapping too much omfg

#ultraman rising #kenji sato #ken sato #personal rant

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petals2fish · 5 months ago

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The Good Witch

Day 4 of jily week (hosted by @sunshinemarauder and @kay-elle-cee ) prompt; role reversal

Read on A03

“Alright, Potter?”

James Potter glanced up from his essay to see Lily Evans leaning over his desk. Her shirt was unbuttoned just enough to be distracting, and he rolled his eyes as she fluffed her red hair for his benefit. There were three reasons she was the most popular witch in school:

1. she’s bloody gorgeous

2. She’s way too good at quidditch

3. She’s a massive show off with an affinity for mischief making

Despite these three things, James still avoided her like the plague. Especially after that incident in potions two weeks ago, where she’d tried to come to his defense after his best friend shouted a slur at him in front of the whole class. He didn’t know what had been more humiliating, Sev blowing up on him, or Lily Evans playing the hero.

James definitely didn’t need her swooping in to defend him. She irked Sev enough that her mere presence makes James’ old friend go blind with rage. James sometimes wondered if Sev actually liked Lily, but hated himself for it.

But then again, who didn’t like Lily and hate themselves for it?

“Do you deliberately go out of your way to find me?” he asked flatly. “You know I can’t stand you at the moment.”

“I think you secretly like me,” she replied, sitting on the edge of his desk.

“You’re insane.”

She was right.

”You’re the one who was staring at me during transfiguration.” She sang, “Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I caught the snitch in the match last night, so according to our bet, you owe me seven minutes in heaven.”

He really hated himself for giving into her goading at breakfast yesterday. They’d bantered back and forth about how good she actually was at quidditch. James found bantering with her to be a sport of its own, and she sadly excelled at both.

“You’re the only one who agreed to that.” He said, pushing at her to move. She stayed put.

”You shook on it.”

”You picked my hand up and forced me to shake your hand.” James reminded her, “I told you I didn’t want to bet against you.”

Her eyes sparkled mirthlessly, “I love when you accidentally compliment me without realizing it.”

”Go bother someone else,” he begged, “literally anyone else.”

“We’re already a minute in. Why waste time fighting?” She waggled her red eyebrows. “Pucker up, buttercup.”

James snorted. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Don’t I know it.” She just giggled and kicked her feet. “I’ve got Petunia holding the portrait, so no one will walk in on us, don’t be embarrassed. One little kiss never hurt anyone.”

It might kill me, he thought to himself.

James looked around the common room and realized she had somehow cleared everyone out. He sighed and tucked his quill behind his ear. Lily smirked, swiped the quill from him, dipped it in the inkpot, and took his hand.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his face turning red as she guided his palm open.

“Reading your future,” she said nonchalantly, tracing the lines of his palm with the ink, creating intricate patterns.

James swallowed hard, the tickling sensation of the quill giving him goosebumps. “And why are you doing this?”

“Oh,” she clicked her tongue, “it says here that your lifeline is really short, which means you should kiss a hot witch before you die at the ripe young age of fifteen.”

James pulled his hand away. “Let me guess, you’re the hot witch in question?”

She grinned wickedly. “I am pretty hot, don’t you think?”

“Sure,” he muttered, “but your ego is really unattractive.”

She placed a hand on her heart, feigning shock. “Me? My ego? James, James, James.” She lifted his chin with a finger, her green eyes sparkling. “It’s called confidence.”

“Well, I’m confident I don’t want to kiss you,” he shrugged. “You might as well tell your sister to let people back into the common room.”

Lily’s shoulders slumped, her confidence faltering. “Did I do something to make you hate me so much?”

“You mess up your hair to look like you’ve just been on a broomstick,” he said, standing up so he was finally taller than her as she perched on the desk. “You make fun of people for sport. You’re an arrogant toe-rag, and I’d rather kiss the giant squid than make out with you.”

Her frown deepened. “Fine.” She pushed herself away from the desk, her feet hitting the floor with a pronounced thud. “I get it. You’re afraid you might actually like me, so you’re pushing me away. According to Witch Weekly, that just means you’re actually interested.”

James rolled his eyes. “Witch Weekly isn’t exactly where I’d look for dating advice,” he said, absentmindedly brushing imaginary lint from his robe. “That’s not the reason I don’t want to snog you.”

“Then give me a chance,” she insisted. “Go out with me and see if we’re a good match.”

“No.”

“Why not?” She challenged, her eyes narrowing. “Is it because I’m a pure-blood? Because that’s ridiculous. You know I’m nothing like those pure-blood elitists who look down on you or anyone else.”

“Your blood has nothing to do with it,” James said, smoothing down his robe with a dismissive gesture. “I just don’t fancy you.”

Another lie.

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Then why do you blush every time I walk past you in the hall? And why did you stand up for me when Snape called me a useless Quidditch player who’s overrated?”

James shifted uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze. “Look, it’s not about what you think. It’s just not going to work.”

“Because your best friend Snape hates me and doesn’t want you talking to me?” Lily guessed.

James blinked in surprise. “You heard him?”

“Of course I did.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “You think I don’t hear what he and his Death Eater wannabe friends say about me? Or Sirius? Or Petunia? We’re all blood traitors because we defend you. I don’t know how you can still be friends with Snape. He’s such a prat.”

“We aren’t as close,” James admitted. “Not after he called me a—” He hesitated, “—a Mudblood.”

Her green eyes softened, and her voice took on a gentler tone. “I would never call you that, you know that, right?”

“Yes.”

He did. Despite her often inflated ego, James was well aware that Lily Evans was a genuinely good witch. If he could turn back time and rewrite his choices, he would have chosen to be friends with her rather than with Severus Snape.

Even though James had grown up alongside Sev, their friendship had become strained over the years. Sev had increasingly aligned himself with those who saw James as an outsider simply because he was the child of two Muggles. The bitterness that had started to poison their relationship had made him realize, too late, that he had been on the wrong path.

But he knew that pursuing anything with Lily Evans, Sev’s sworn adversary, would likely bring more complications than it was worth. Even though he secretly wanted to kiss her, he couldn’t ignore the potential trouble their relationship might stir up.

James was still dealing with the effects of the last encounter between the three of them. He had a feeling if Sev heard James was snogging Lily, Sev might actually kill him. He’d definitely see it as some sort of betrayal. After all, Lily had spent the last five years bullying Sev relentlessly.

As the common room began to fill up again, students weaved around James and Lily, but Lily remained firmly planted in place. She stepped closer to him, her hand reaching out and clasping his. The sudden, firm grip caught James off guard, and he instinctively tried to pull away, but Lily held on tightly.

“I’m a straightforward witch, Potter,” she said with a determined edge to her voice. “When I see something I want, I go after it. That’s why I’m such a good Seeker. And let me be clear—I don’t care if you’d rather kiss the giant squid than me. I still want you. So when you finally come to your senses and realize that Snape is toxic and manipulating everything around you, including who you’re allowed to snog, remember that I was the one who warned you. And I’ll be the one still waiting for you.”

James's face turned a deep shade of red, drawing curious glances from those nearby. “Lily, I—I…” he stammered, struggling to find the right words.

“Hey, Potter.” Lily’s sister appeared, her expression haughty. “Snape’s waiting outside the portrait hole. He says he’ll camp out there if you don’t come out right now.”

James winced at the thought of facing Sev after everything that had happened. Especially after Lily’s confession. “Perfect.”

Lily brushed her shoulder against his, a surge of warmth following her touch. “Give him hell for using that slur, or I will,” she said fiercely.

And James believed her.

#jily #james potter #lily evans #jily fic #jily fanfiction #jple #jily week 2024 #god i love role reversals

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kittyball23 · 1 year ago

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Soundproof (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: John Dory reveals that Rhonda is soundproof, and that little bit of information sits quite well with Poppy and Branch **Rated M**

A/N: 😏

__________________________________________

It was precisely three things that were serving as a distraction to Branch that night.

One was the incredibly delicious marshmallows in his hands, plopped into his mouth every few minutes so that he could experience its chewy, fluffy goodness in between the songs that he and his brothers were harmonizing to. Another was Poppy, sitting across him from the campfire alongside her sister Viva. Her deep, fuschia eyes - sparkling with the reflection of the crackling orange flames - remained trained to his blue whenever she spared a glance his way, letting him know by the intense gaze that there was something other than flames crackling between them.

Tension.

And it was one that was continuing to build as the evening progressed, all because of a small tidbit of information that was so graciously dumped upon them during the idle conversation among the group of friends. The information in itself being the third distraction.

Patience was not proving to be a virtue, however, and he and Poppy had to be pulled out of their dazed infatuation with one another several times - Viva nudging her sister with a giggle and Floyd nudging Branch wearing his own little smirk.

After what did feel like hours of happily enduring laughter, songs, stories and other shenanigans that could only ensue among siblings, the first yawn finally was emitted, coming out of Floyd. It in turn caused everybody else to realize just how tired they were, too. So when the other yawns and tired stretches followed suit to confirm it was true, Branch nearly felt like pulling his brother in for a hug. His favorite bro had come to his aid, even if he may not have known it! But while the fun between the seven friends had just concluded, the heated glint in Poppy’s eyes told him that their fun was just beginning.

Just as Branch’s thoughts began to wander somewhere ungentlemanly, John Dory’s loud voice broke through. “I don’t know about you all, but I’m bushed!” To demonstrate his point, he plopped down flat on his back upon his sleeping bag. “Guess it was pretty fun singing and roasting marshmallows after all, eh?” he chuckled after a moment.

Bruce hummed in agreement, munching on the last few in his possession. “Mmm-mmm! I gotta tell Brandy we should add these to the dessert menu,” he said, referring to his wife of whom he ran Vacay Island’s cantina with.

“Imma be the first one in line if you do that!” Clay exclaimed, exchanging a fist bump with the purple-haired Troll.

“Count me in on that, too!” Viva giggled. She too really loved marshmallows - her couch back in Putt Putt Village, in fact, was a marshmallow! And only now did it really occur to her to wonder how in the world she’d managed not to consume it for all those years living there. Shrugging it off, she turned to the gang with a large grin. “He’s right though,” she said, gesturing a thumb at John Dory. “This really was fun! I’d love for us to all hang again sometime!”

Floyd nodded his head, agreeing. “That would be nice.” He turned to Branch, seeking his younger bro’s opinion.

“Yeah,” the blue Troll responded, hoping he didn’t sound too breathless when he answered, his gaze still fixed on Poppy.

The Pop Queen, in a similar fashion, concurred with a little dazed “Uh-huh.”

Good nights were bid, sleeping bags unzipped, and wrappers to the Jumbo-sized marshmallow bags disposed of. As Branch went to go put out the campfire, he silently mouthed the words to Poppy that would let her know when they could get the ball rolling.

Five minutes.

He accompanied the words with hand gestures - one going forward, as though he were making the motion for the word “after,” and then another gesture tucking his hands under one side of his head, to make it look as though he were laying down to sleep. Poppy understood right away, confirming with a little wink and followed by a half-lidded gaze that made a tingle go down his spine. He tried to ignore it as he laid down in his sleeping bag, for the sake of surviving those next five minutes without her in his arms already, but found he couldn’t. Poppy’s effect was too strong, and the desires manifested themselves in delicious fantasies for what he ached to do with her. Fantasies of which would soon become a reality.

Branch lay until he was sure that he heard the sounds of heavy cadences of breathing and light, steady snoring. He waited an extra thirty seconds or so afterwards, just to be extra sure and, upon hearing no signs of activity, allowed himself to rise up and out of his sleeping bag, careful to take the utmost caution in not making any noise whatsoever.

Poppy, also having waited the allotted time, made to get out of her sleeping bag, too. In her haste to reach Branch’s side, she accidentally crunched on a dry leaf, the crinkling noise resounding around them. Both froze. With this number of Trolls snoozing in the vicinity, someone was bound to stir. And stir someone did.

Clay shifted in his bag, and Branch held his breath, fully expecting his older brother to blink his eyes open and catch the two of them sneaking off. But to his relief, the lime-green-haired Troll drowsily mumbled something about tax evasion and then snuggled back into his blanket. Poppy met her boyfriend’s eyes and scrunched her shoulders, a little blush tinting her cheeks and a quiet giggle escaping her. Branch rolled his eyes playfully, and simply extended his hand for her to take, a little smirk on his face. She squeezed it softly as he tugged them along, padding against the soft dirt floor underneath them to reach their destination. Once they got just outside of JD's beloved caterbus pet, he released from her grip, bringing his hand up to her face so he could pull her in for the kiss he'd been dying to share with her. Poppy obliged him willingly, parting her lips slightly to deepen it. He pulled away with some reluctance after several seconds, resting his forehead against hers. Branch’s voice was hushed and eager when he spoke, finally addressing that one point of crucial information in the earlier conversation that had been so easily glossed over by the others, even his brother - JD - himself, who had revealed it.

"Do you really think that Rhonda is completely soundproof?"

The question itself wasn't so crude, but for the purpose that he was asking it made his cheeks grow warm. He couldn't help but think back to the time when John Dory had made the very confident-sounding claim that Rhonda was waterproof, but it hadn't turned out to be so.

Poppy however didn't seem bothered, and snickered. "I mean, even if she isn't, I'm sure she'll make sure nobody bothers us. Won't you, girl?"

Branch gave a short gasp when he felt a rumble of a trill behind him in response, only coming to just realize that Rhonda had been awakened and was panting happily at the couple. She wagged her stumpy green tail, seeming to have understood what Poppy had said and more than willing to be of help.

Branch still looked a little bit uncertain, suddenly rethinking this little venture. Even with as much as he wanted this to happen, would it be wise?

"Poppy," he said, pausing to think of what he was going to point out to her first. That perhaps they shouldn't be partaking in these type of activities within a caterbus that was not theirs? With not one, nor two, or even three or four, but FIVE other Trolls who had the chance of waking up and catching them in the act? And what kind of mess would they leave behind on the bed? Branch couldn’t imagine the embarrassment that he would have to face if confronted by John Dory for anything that was leftover upon the sheets….

But Poppy was quick to already reply. And reply she did. "Brrranch…" His name was a teasing growl, the ‘r’ drawn arousingly as she opened Rhonda's side door, batted her lashes and gingerly stepped foot inside.

Branch sighed. That's it.

In a move that suddenly startled her, he swept in, hauling her up and off her feet and hoisting her in a bridal carry that had her doing her best to not squeal in surprise. As he toted her into the caterbus, he hoped Poppy wasn't prepared to sleep.

Because Branch sure wasn't.

__________________________________________

A loud, thumping in the night is what awakened him.

Floyd startled, a little groggy as he registered that it was still pitch black, the morning not broken through yet. He attempted to shut his eyes again and doze off, but a sudden rumbling in his stomach caught him off guard, letting the magenta-haired Troll know loud and clear that it was hungry.

One midnight snack will do, he thought. Or... whatever time it is. Floyd had no way of knowing in particular what hour it was. It could very well be past midnight, or just a few minutes before the crack of dawn. He went back and forth reasoning which of the two it could be as he made his light, tip-toeing steps towards Rhonda. JD had lots of goodies packed in his fridge and cabinets, so there was bound to be something to sedate him.

As his hand reached for the knob of Rhonda's door, prepared to turn, he stopped short at the sound of the thumping again, more pronounced. Floyd blinked. Was that coming from inside of the caterbus? He strained to listen, and heard a rapid creaking noise, as though springs were being pressed down upon over and over, accompanied with a long, drawn noise of some sort. A moan, he realized, the longer he had his ear perked to attention.

Wait a minute... He thought he recognized that voice. Was that… Poppy? Floyd blinked. Why? Had something happened to her? He glanced over to where the other Trolls had been sleeping, seeing for the first time that her sleeping bag was indeed empty...

...And so was Branch's.

Suddenly, the magenta Troll's brain began to put two and two together, the cogs shifting in his brain right as another thumping was heard, and a new moan that bore a resemblance to the name of his youngest bro resonated.

Something had happened to Poppy all right. But it wasn't anything bad.

It was…

They were...

“Oh!” he gasped. Floyd suddenly felt blood rush to his face, his appetite vanishing entirely and his stomach turning queasy. He hurriedly turned his heel, trying to dash as quickly as he could back to his sleeping bag before he had an accident, but failing as he tripped over one of his brothers.

"Ow," a drowsy mumble came from Bruce, and he began to sit up and rub his eyes at the disturbance. "Floyd? Dude, what's going on?"

Floyd waved his hands in a panic. "No! Bruce, go back to sleep. Please!"

"Huh?" Bruce cocked his head. "What are you talking abou - " His sentence was cut off by the sound of a shout, one that sounded an awful lot like their youngest brother. More thumping followed, and Bruce raised an eyebrow, clueless for a second, until realization dawned upon him. "Ohhhh," he said, cracking a smile once his thoughts were confirmed upon seeing the lack of Branch and Poppy in their respective sleeping bags. Rhonda affirmed it further, cutting her narrowed eyes at him as if daring him to try and intrude the private moment. So that's what they were up to. Bruce shook his head, fondly remembering a time when he and Brandy were younger, and would get up to their own share of frisky business. "Well, I'll tell you one thing for sure," he told Floyd, "If there was ever any doubt that Branch isn't a man, there certainly isn’t one now."

Two responses met the purple-haired Troll. One was another loud moan coming from the caterbus. The other was a groan of dismay from his magenta-haired brother.

"Didn't John Dory say she was soundproofed?" Floyd whimpered in mortification, pointing at Rhonda.

Bruce laughed. "Bro, Rhonda's not soundproof. JD just sleeps like a rock. See?" The brothers looked over at their eldest bro who indeed looked like a content stone just laying there. Un-rock-like though, he snored, drooling some from the side of his open mouth.

Of course, Floyd thought with a roll of his eyes. He cast a worried glance at Bruce. "Okay, but, um, what should we do? I'd love to go back to sleep, but not if I'm going to listen to… um… to…" He tried to think of the right word to describe what was happening without outright saying it, but found he didn't have to. He grimaced when Poppy cried out, making him shudder. "To that," he finished.

Bruce understood and patted a hand reassuringly on Floyd’s shoulder. "Not to worry, bro. I got you covered. Here, gimme your hand." Floyd extended his palm out, and Bruce reached into his hair, pulling out a couple of small objects.

Floyd was perplexed when he realized what it was. "Gumdrops?" he asked.

"Hey, I know they're delish, but they're also 100% soundproof, guaranteed."

Floyd narrowed his eyes, unable to help feeling skeptical. "You sure?"

Bruce nodded. "Yep! Trust me, I stuff them in my kids' ears every night right after they've gone to sleep, in case the wife and I ever get in the mood. So far, they haven't been disturbed a peep!"

Floyd felt his stomach lurch and then nodded. “Okay! Alright, I’ll take them.”

Bruce chuckled, putting his own gumdrops in his ears and snuggling back down. He dozed off once more, and Floyd soon after, the magenta-haired Troll relieved that true to his brother’s word, he heard nothing but the sound of silence.

__________________________________________

Poppy found the brilliant sun the following morning a perfect compliment to the equally sunny attitude she had. She stretched, recomposed herself, and took a great big whiff of the fresh air once she stepped out of Rhonda. Right as she began to replay the events of the previous night, she felt a pair of hands slink around her waist, belonging to the Troll she’d shared the wonderful experience with. She giggled a little as his caress lightly tickled her sides, and she turned to face him, bestowing a quick peck upon his lips.

“Morning,” he whispered.

“Morning,” she replied. She licked her lips with a little hum, noting the flavor he’d left behind on them. “I take it coffee's brewing?” she asked.

“Mmm-hmm,” he confirmed, tipping his messy-haired blue head back towards Rhonda. “Want a cup?”

“In a little bit,” she said. “Think I’m gonna stretch my legs out here a bit first. I’m, uh… still a bit sore.” She admitted it with a blush that made Branch chuckle.

“All right.” He better adjusted his leafy vest to conceal the purplish mark on the base of his neck, bruise-like in appearance if not for the indentations indicative of teeth, if one were to look closely enough - evidence of the Pop Queen’s handiwork, no doubt.

They exchanged another sweet peck, and then Poppy was off at her sister’s side in a couple of wobbly bounds.

“Wakey, wakey!” she chirped, shaking her shoulder.

Viva gave a short yawn and grinned when her sights set on her sister. “Hey, you!” she giggled, throwing her arms around her for a hug. Taking note of her messy pink hair and worried she’d tossed and turned through the night, Viva questioned her. “You sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” Poppy replied. Better than okay, actually, she added silently, remembering Branch’s arms around her and how expertly they’d handled her.

“Oh, good!” Viva breathed out. “Um, you do know your leg warmers are inside out, right?”

Poppy grinned sheepishly when she realized her sister was right. But she couldn’t help be disoriented, not after the way Branch made her so drunk on his love. She shrugged, grateful when Clay’s awakening interrupted them.

“Ah, man, I had the best dream ever!” he declared as he stretched, sitting up in his sleeping bag.

Viva rolled her eyes. “This isn’t the one where you’re drinking hot cocoa and finishing everyone’s taxes, is it?”

Clay raised a hand. “Guilty, and quite happy to be found so!” he laughed.

Viva chuckled and turned to her sister. “That’s Clay for ya!”

Poppy shook her head with a little grin and then spotted Floyd and Bruce. “Hey, guys!” she called. “Branch is at the caterbus brewing some coffee. Want some?”

Poppy then witnessed something peculiar. At the mention of their youngest bro, Floyd’s eyes widened and he exchanged a look with Bruce. The purple-haired Troll calmly replied for the two. “I’ll take a cup, Poppy, but I think Floyd’s gonna pass. He was a little sick last night, and he’s still not up to par just yet.”

Poppy’s eyebrows creased in worry. “Oh, no! Really?” She looked to the magenta-haired Troll for an answer.

“I’ll be fine,” Floyd squeaked, clearing his throat afterwards in hopes that nobody would question him further for his strange behavior. Attention was drawn from him when John Dory leapt upon his feet, bright eyed and bushy tailed.

“Wassup, fam!” he cried, snapping his fingers. “I don’t know about you all, but I slept like a baby! A baby Branch that is.” He chuckled at his own joke, until the voice of his youngest brother stopped him.

“I thought I told you to refrain from calling me that!” Branch grumbled as he stepped towards them, sipping a cup of coffee.

“I was just playing, bro.” His expression then switched to a serious one. “For real though, dude, are you all right?”

Branch looked at him with confusion. “What’d you mean?”

John Dory exhaled. “Huh, I dunno if I was dreaming or something, but I coulda sworn I heard some screaming from you last night. And y’know, come to think of it, you too, Poppy!” JD scratched his head. “Were y’all having nightmares or something?”

In that instant, Poppy felt all the color rush to her face. Branch gagged midsip of the coffee he was drinking, and Floyd moaned, a hint of green tinting his face as he rushed into the bushes to heave what was in his stomach.

“NIghtmares!” Poppy laughed. “Nightmares he says!” She laughed until she felt herself grow light-headed, and then faint.

Not in much of a better state, Branch stood, frozen in shock and unresponsive to his surroundings, blue eyes open wide but unseeing.

“Uhhh… I feel like I missed something here,” JD said, puzzled.

Clay and Viva murmured their agreement as the former waved a hand in front of his little bro’s face and Viva fanned Poppy, who was still splayed on the ground.

“I didn’t,” Bruce mumbled.

JD’s head shot towards him. “What?”

“Nevermind,” the purple-haired Troll quickly said, plastering a nothing-is-wrong grin on his face. “Now, who wants gumdrops?”

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #dreamworks #broppy #branch trolls #poppy trolls #brozone #john dory #spruce trolls #clay trolls #floyd trolls #viva trolls #fanfiction #kittyball writes #grown up stuff fanfiction #100+

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alyssawritcs · 4 days ago

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SUMMER HOUSE ( a rafe cameron au fanfic ) . chapter one .

love interest : au!rafe cameron rating : pg - 13 … for now ( drinking , tension ) wc : 5.2k author's note : eep , first chapter for this . obv inspired by summer house / summer house : martha's vineyard . lmk if yall want a full cast list for the other members of the house or anything like that ! i hope you enjoy <3

The trill of the phone ringing as it was propped up against the window allowed for Tae to put herself directly in line with the Hamptons sun streaming through. That seven step skincare routine was showing the fuck out at the moment. She’d have to keep her phone here after she hung up with her cousin in order to get some selfies off for her IG Story later.

Distracted by her own reflection, she almost jumped when her image shrunk and Pope’s replaced it. “Cuzzo! Damn, you made it up there fast as shit.” He was eyeing the lush background she was standing in front of. He’d seen it plenty in their various FaceTime calls over the last four summers.

“Unlike the rest of you heathens, I wake up with the sun as the good Lord intended.” And as was hammered into her head by their shared grandmother. Tae and her mother had lived in Nana Joy’s house for the majority of her childhood so waking up at the crack of dawn to the sounds of BeBe and CeCe Winans was her default. “You what, an hour out?”

“That's what the GPS says. You shoulda stayed with us this summer, I know you ain’t even wanna be around them.” Tae rolled her eyes, though Pope was not wrong. Four previous summers at the 115 House (as the returning summer residents liked to call it) had convinced her that this would actually not be that bad, despite the circumstances.

“Wait, they’re all still going there?” Came another voice on Pope’s end of the line. She recognized it as his good friend JJ, a long time background listener of Tae’s various problems. They had been roommates when she attended Morehouse and they were running amok at UNC Chapel Hill so when she called her favorite cousin Sunday mornings to rant and rave about whatever new person had done whatever shiesty shit, JJ was always there listening. Tae wasn’t particularly shy about letting him listen in on her shit. Very little had changed in the seven years since, even after all of them had moved to New York. The two of them were still roommates and Tae still talked to Pope about her problems on Sunday, only this time she did it on his couch, while they ate bagels (with the occasional guest appearance by JJ).

“Yes, bro. Shit is weird, why would they even wanna share a house with you after all that?” Pope replied and she shrugged.

“I’ve been trying to figure that out my damn self. With Duke, I can sorta see it but Jalen’s being a weirdo - as per usual.” Tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, she let out a long breath. “Did I show you how he was blatantly ignoring me in the groupchat? I literally would write something for us to do, he would say nothing. Then I had Fallon or Isaiah write the same thing and suddenly, ‘oh that’s a great idea guys hell yeah’. If I could reach through the phone ...” She let the sentence trail off as she made a choking motion with her hands. Pope chuckled.

“See? I told yo’ ass, you do not need to be around all that weird ass shit. Come stay at ours.” She thought about the proposition for a second but almost immediately shook it off.

“Nah, I’m not leaving my primary bedroom privileges to go share a room with your funky ass.”

“Funky? Never been that, don’t try to play me.”

“Whatever, I’ll just suffer in silence. You know me, I hate to complain.”

“Is this a new development? Because ...”

“Shut up!” The timer on the oven dinged, letting Tae know that the baked treats she’d set to start baking when she first got to the house were now officially done. She slid out the first tray, regular chocolate chip and placed it on the counter to cool, followed by a tray of chocolate raspberry crinkle cookies and then lemon tarts.

“You stress baking, huh?” Her cousin grinned knowingly. She flipped him off as she removed the oven mitts. “You mixed all that shit that fast?”

“There’s two mixers here and the third is my own two hands.” She wiggled her fingers. “I want everyone to have a cute little snack when they get here. You can have some too.”

“In your words, pur!” Pope laughed as Tae threw her head back in a cackle, watching her move around the kitchen to get some plates for the treats. “Rafe, lemme change the address in the GPS, we gotta stop at 115 first.”

“Cool man.” Tae’s head snapped up at the phone so fast, she nearly got whiplash.

“Pope, I thought it was just you and JJ in the car.” She rushed over to the phone.

“Nah, Rafe is driving us. He’s the one with the Cayenne, we wanna arrive in style, girl. It’s the Hamptons!” He set the phone on some kind of stand, allowing her to finally get a full view of the inside of the car. Cherry red interior, she almost moaned out loud. JJ was in the backseat, Pope was passenger princess’d out, even nearly fully reclined, and the buff ass arm of their friend Rafe trailed up to his very handsome face. She could’ve died right there and then.

“Hi Taelor.” He smirked at her and she gave a small smile and waved back. “Who’s Jalen?”

In for a penny, in for a pound, right?

“He’s my ex ... fling, I guess you could say? Okay so basically, two years ago, I spent most of the summer here hooking up with one of my roommates, Duke. He had just gotten out of a relationship, I was single, cool, whatever. It was just someone to have on the weekends up here and we sorta both understood that. He let me know, after Labor Day, that he had had dinner with his ex and they got back together. Okay, I’m cool with that. The next summer, last year, he and her decide that they’re gonna spend it out west with her people and I’m happy as a clam because no potential awkwardness. I’m chilling here and Keith, one of the other roomies, brings along his friend Jalen who proceeds to spend most of the summer all up under me, flirting with me, and leading me to believe that he wants me, right? Silly me, the boy tells me he wants me and I believed him!” Rafe snorted at that and she mentally patted herself on the back for making him laugh. She moved around the kitchen again, beginning to plate the cookies.

“So what did he do wrong that he’s now ignoring your messages?” He asked.

“You were listening for real, for real!” She grinned. “I didn’t wanna hook up with him that summer because I didn’t want a repeat of the Duke incident to happen, like I was actively avoiding that shit. However! He took me out on a couple of dates in the fall, in the city. I was literally one date away from taking it to the next level when he sent me a text ... A TEXT! Saying oh ‘my ex is back, she wants me again, sorry babe’. Could you fucking imagine how I felt reading that? I almost threw up!”

“That’s actually foul, Jesus Christ.”

“That’s what I said!” She sighed, organizing the plates on the counter and returning to her phone. “Anyway, now Duke is coming this summer and so is Jalen, and their girlfriends, and I’m Little Miss Rebound Girl that’s just gonna look like the sad and single and jealous one as they all canoodle.”

“We’ll be your buffer, Tae, don’t worry.” Pope chimed in.

“Yeah, you can come to ours whenever shit gets a little too romantic over there.” JJ offered.

“And I’ll be your fake boyfriend you can cuddle up with when they get to be too much.” Rafe was joking, she thought, but what a tempting offer.

The boys all worked, alongside their other friends Topper, John B, and Kelce, at a finance firm on Wall Street. During one of their after work bar crawls on a random Friday over a year ago, Pope had called Tae to meet them. She herself had just gotten off of work, a prestigious job as the producer for a hit radio show and subsequent podcasts for several clients. The show ran three mornings a week and the two podcasts she worked on recorded on Tuesdays and Thursdays, working out perfectly for as it left weekends open. In the summers, the morning show took a break which allowed Tae the option to get to 115 earlier than everybody else on Fridays and stay until Monday evening, while everyone else usually had to leave by Sunday night. The good pay also allowed her to pay a little extra so she could keep the primary for herself. Anyways!

She had gone to meet her cousin and his friend and ended up meeting their whole little crew, most of whom would be sharing the house this summer. That’s where she met Rafe, the oldest member of them all (only by two years, one in Kelce’s case) and also, the senior most member of their office in the group. None of them needed to say it but judging by the very understated Breguet on his wrist the first time they met, he was very clearly the richest one, yet surprisingly humble. He wasn’t excessively flashy with his shit, just liked to sit there and laugh along with the jokes. She figured he liked the boys because they were far from the classic finance bro types, more frat bro than anything else.

The entire night she’d been there with them, and every other time she’d hung out with them since (which had only been a handful), he’d listened intently as she yapped on and on. She knew he was listening because he always made sure to ask follow up questions and everything, which turned her on in a way she hadn’t even expected.

“Aw, thanks y’all. You’re all so sweet.” She giggled. Behind her the alarm on the door chimed, letting her know someone had entered the home.

“Taelor Marie Hastings, come greet me girl!” Isaiah’s voice carried through the foyer and Tae grinned, turning to the phone.

“I’ll see y’all in a little bit!” She waved goodbye and hung up the call, setting her phone on the kitchen island before taking off to hug her friend. “Zay!”

The two practically leaped into each other’s arms. You would think they lived on opposite sides of the country but nope, just in different boroughs. Tae was a Hell’s Kitchen girlie and Isaiah stayed his ass in Brooklyn, only ever crossing the bridge at night when one of his many boyfriends called him an Uber Black. They talked on the phone nearly every night but if she wanted to see him, she knew she had to go to him. That was fine, he lived near all the good Jamaican food spots anyways.

“Girl, look at you in a little workout set. Body by Tae, huh?” He spun her around, looking her up and down as the bright red biker shorts and matching sports bra with the jacket stood out on her skin tone. Tae wiggled her ass a little as the two of them laughed. “And it smell like cookies, ooh! I love you bad.”

“Where’s Fallon? I thought y’all were coming together?” She asked his back as he beelined for the kitchen and the aforementioned cookies. He didn’t need to answer as Fallon slammed her suitcase on the ground at the entryway.

“This Beis luggage ain’t shit, bro. My arm hurts.” She wiggled her shoulder, letting Tae put her arm around her. Now, they saw each other damn near everyday. The two girls lived less than five blocks from each other and regularly went to each other’s apartments for dinner and some sort of Bravo show. Zay would typically be on the phone to recap what had just happened on their screens.

“C’mon, you can rest it and rejuvenate yourself with a lemon tart.”

“Now you know I can’t resist one of your little lemon tarts.” They both walked into the kitchen, leaving the three bags the two of them brought in, to the side in the foyer.

“Because you are a tart. You are what you eat.” Zay smirked and let Fallon shove him.

“He’s been starting with me ever since he was supposed to pick me up. My arm hurts because I was standing outside of my place for a half an hour waiting on him!” She picked up the little square treat and let her eyes roll back as soon as she tasted it.

“I told you, I had an emergency!”

“Suckin’ and fuckin’ on your ex does not constitute as an emergency, Zay.” She retorted and he gasped.

“Don’t go tellin’ my business!”

Tae smiled as she looked at her friends. Fallon had been her randomly assigned roommate freshman year but they got on like a house on fire. Isaiah was the missing piece of their trio, meeting in their English 101 class and cutting up with them in the back all semester long. They had not left each other’s sides since then, initially moving to New York together as roommates in a tiny three bedroom in the Bronx while they got their feet wet in their respective careers. They all felt lucky that by the time they were twenty-five, Tae had her producing job, Isaiah was a licensed psychologist, and Fallon was a highly revered art teacher at a Manhattan private school.

Staying in the Hamptons had been their idea when they were still living together, finding 115 after one of Fallon’s student’s parents let slip that they rented out their second summer home. They told her that since she was their kid’s favorite teacher, they’d rent it out to her and her friends for a heavily discounted rate, thus launching the search for said friends. Isaiah roped in Charlie and Duke, two of his gym buddies, a lawyer for the Knicks and a physical therapist for the Nets, respectively. Fallon got Jason, a former fling of hers who clearly still wanted her bad and worked as a highly sought after tattoo artist. That left Tae, who got Keith and Amber, two models who were Fashion Week regulars that she had gotten to know through various events she attended in the city. That had been the standing crew for the past four years and it worked well for them - well, at least until this year.

“When are your loverboys getting here?” Isaiah asked, sneaking a second crinkle cookie. Tae gave him the evil eye, both for his words and his actions.

“They’re not my loverboys. One of them won’t even acknowledge my existence.”

“It’s so weird that they’re bringing their girlfriends, I’m sorry. Why set yourselves up for awkwardness like that?” Fallon asked, finishing up her own tart. She opened the fridge and took out the papaya green tea that Tae kept stocked in the fridge, as the two of them could chug gallons of that shit.

“Duke’s fine. Leslie’s nice, I told you we talked at his birthday dinner a couple months back. No grudges, all is Gucci. But Jalen? He can suck my dick.”

“You have such a way with words, Tae.” Isaiah said. She gave him a fake smile and tilted her head. “Your fine ass cousin still coming up too?”

“Ew, yes, ew still. I was just on the phone with him. They’re gonna stop over here before they go to their own place.”

“Ooh yay, Fal, we can ogle him together.” He and Fallon began London Tipton clapping and Tae rolled her eyes at their antics.

Within the hour, the rest of the housemates filtered in at nearly fifteen minute intervals. The last of them was Jalen, though Tae didn’t realize that as she, Amber and Fallon were sitting outside, checking on the pool.

“Thank God you called a pool boy because I already have a bikini on and I’m about to jump in right now actually.” Amber was saying as they opened the door, Fallon nodding in agreement.

“Me too bitch. Lemme go change right now actually.” She held the door for Tae who was grinning, faltering a bit as she spotted Jalen across the kitchen, munching on a chocolate chip cookie and feeding bits of it to his girlfriend, Juliana. He avoided her eyes but Juliana was staring her down and if Tae was being honest, it was damn near sinister.

“Oh you must be Taelor! Jalen has told me so much about you.” She rounded the island, sticking her hand out for the other girl to shake. She was a good five inches taller than her with perfectly done goddess braids and an evil little smirk on her face. “Jay, babe, you didn’t tell me she was so pretty.”

“Ye-yeah, right.” He caught up with her, slipping his arm around her impossibly thin waist. “Hi, Tae.”

“Hi Jay.”

“Oop, Tae and Jay, that’s cute.” Juliana sang. “I hope it’s not weird that I’m gonna be here. He told me you guys had a thing last year but that it was like, just a summer thing?”

The use of the word ‘thing’ was grating on her nerves a bit. “Yup, not a big deal at all. Happy to have you.” Keep it cute, Taelor, she thought to herself.

“Bom!” She turned to plant a huge kiss on Jalen’s lips which Isaiah fake gagged at behind them and Tae simply walked away, resisting the urge to do the same.

The chime on the door rang out again as she headed into the living room where Keith and Jason sat, already playing ESPN on the flatscreen. Her head turned at the sound of Pope’s exclamation of ‘CUZZO!’ and she could literally feel herself begin to fully relax. Her favorite people were in the house, she could temporarily forget Jalen and Juliana for a couple minutes.

He rushed over to hug her, rocking her back and forth a bit before pulling away. “You good?”

“Better now.” She whispered and he nodded, pulling away so he could dap up the boys. JJ and Rafe were right behind him, with the former giving her a hug first. “Hi J.”

“Hey there, pretty lady. Where’s my lemon tarts?” She laughed at that, wiggling her finger toward the kitchen. He turned to head in that direction, greeting Duke there. Suddenly, that left her face to face with Drew, who was sporting a new buzzcut and arms even bigger than they’d been on FaceTime.

“Hi, sweetheart.” They also hugged, except his was a bit tighter than JJ's and his large hands settled very comfortably on her lower back, which sent a shiver through her that he undoubtedly felt. He whispered into her ear. “Is Jalen the one standing the kitchen with the curly hair staring into my fucking soul?”

“Probably.” She pulled back with a chuckle though he kept his hands where they were.

“Still want me to play fake boyfriend?” He was smirking down at her as she raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t remember asking you to do that. In fact, I think it was actually you that offered.”

“And you should take me up on that offer because right now, he’s practically got steam coming out of his ears.” She didn’t have to look over at Jalen to know Rafe was probably telling the truth. “C’mon, you can introduce me. Be all coy and shit, so he starts to speculate.” She scoffed but led the way to the kitchen anyway.

“Y’all know Pope, my cousin.” He’d come up at least once every summer, though this was his first time staying in the Hamptons himself, and for more than just the one weekend in their guest room. “This is his roommate JJ.” He waved, mouth full of lemon tart. “And this is ... my friend Rafe.”

His hand was still on her back and he patted it as if to say ‘good girl’. Another shiver. He waved too and everyone began to chat, mingling amongst each other. Jalen stood on the other side of the room again, only this time he was staring her down. Tae bit her lip to hold back a laugh as she looked up at Rafe.

“You play a lot of fake boyfriends? Is that like, your side hustle? You rent yourself out to girls who need a hot guy to pretend to be into them?” She leaned on the kitchen island as he maintained eye contact.

“Yeah, but I’m not a cheap bitch either so this is gonna run you a lot of money.” Tae let out a cackle and he placed his hand on the other side of her, on the counter, boxing her in a bit. “And who said I’m pretending?”

The eye contact remained for another minute before Isaiah gathered everyone’s attention by the sink. “Jungle juice is done y’all! Champagne, Mtn. Dew, pineapple, mango, freshly cut strawberries, oranges, and kiwis, one whole bottle of tequila and one of coconut rum, all in each. You’re all very welcome!” He stepped aside to reveal a pair of 1 gallon pitchers with spouts, filled with identical liquids and floating fruits.

“You want some?” Tae asked Rafe who shook his head.

“Nah, I gotta drive those two miscreants to our place still.” He jutted his chin in Pope and JJ’s direction, both of whom were rushing to the pitchers to get their cups filled. Fallon, now clad in a bikini like Amber, approached Tae with a cup of her own.

“Here you go.” She looked up at Rafe with a grin and her hand extended. “Hi, I’m Fallon, her best friend.”

“Rafe.” He shook her hand.

“Her good friend.” Fallon gave Tae a look that practically screamed ‘we’re gonna talk about this later’. Once everyone had a cup and Rafe had a Celsius from the fridge, Charlie kneeled on a bar stool to deliver his annual first drink of summer speech.

“Here’s to a summer of good times, impeccable vibes, Tae’s famous breakfasts, Zay’s infamous drinks, Duke’s exhausting workouts, Fallon’s paint and sip afternoons, Amber’s photo dumps with her film camera, Jalen’s hour long showers, Keith’s basketball tournaments, Jason’s phenomenal DJing and my delicious Sunday family dinners. Cheers!”

Everyone shouted in agreement, going for their first sip. Rafe’s hand was still hot on her hip as Tae threw back the drink.

“That boy wants you bad.” Fallon was saying, laying on a towel on the window seat in Tae’s room. Isaiah was perched on the bed and Amber on her own towel on the chair in the corner of the room. Tae was busy unpacking her bag, hanging up her dress for the next day. They were hosting a little day party in the afternoon.

“Girl I was wet just looking at y’all.” Isaiah agreed. “He got eye contact for days and I know how much you like that shit.”

She was glad she wasn’t facing them as the smile on her face would’ve given away just how much she agreed with her friends. “Whatever y’all, he’s just being helpful.”

“Helpful would’ve been him hanging up a picture for you. He wants to put you through a mattress, Tae.” Amber offered this time.

The boys left after the cheers, rushing to join the rest of their housemates at their house. They were being joined by both JJ and John B’s girlfriend, Kiara and Sarah, with Pope’s girlfriend Cleo coming up the next day. Sarah was apparently also Rafe’s sister. She yet had to meet any of them other than Cleo, who she loved, but they would be attending the party tomorrow.

“Regardless of if he does or not, I’m not getting involved with any more summer flings. My track record clearly sucks.”

“Who says he’s gotta be a summer fling? He can transfer into a fall babe then a winter cuddle and so on.” Fallon said.

“Right, because that’s what always happens huh?” Retrieving a pair of baggy jeans and a leather corset top from her closet, she turned to her friends. “Are y’all gonna go get ready to go or you gonna sit here and discuss my nonexistent love life?”

They grumbled out responses, filing out to their respective rooms as she shut the door behind them and entered the bathroom.

A couple of hours and some pre-game shots of Don Julio later, the group piled into two separate Ubers. Tae, Zay, Fallon, Amber, and Jason in one, leaving Charlie, Duke, Leslie, Jalen, Juliana, and Keith to ride in the other. They all poured out of the cars twenty minutes later and walked into Hendrix, a beach club that had been their go-to since first coming to the Hamptons. It played the best music, poured the best drinks, and had really good air conditioning, which truly was key.

At some point, Tae found herself sitting with Leslie as she took puffs of her pen on the back patio of the club, both slightly sweating and just a level above tipsy.

“I told him that maybe we shouldn’t have even come because how awkward was this gonna be for you, ya know?”

“Girl, it’s fine, we were never anything serious and he was very respectful the whole time. Plus, he pays for the house too, he’s entitled to come!”

“Yeah, I guess. You’re mad chill for the situation you’re in.” Leslie took a pull of her pen and then got a little twinkle in your eye. “I guess it’s hard to be awkward when you’ve got that Rafe guy eyeing you up like a piece of meat.”

Tae groaned and threw her head in her hands. “Not you too! Have you been talking to Zay and them?”

“I don’t need to talk to anyone, girl, I have eyes! I thought he was gonna fuck you in that kitchen!”

“Who was gonna fuck who in the kitchen?” The girls both jumped, looking from their seats at Rafe who had quietly approached them. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Tae replied simply.

“I gotta go ... talk to Zay apparently.” Leslie hurried off, leaving the two of them behind on an otherwise empty patio.

“Smooth, Les.” Tae mumbled. “Welcome to Hendrix, you having fun?”

“I was about to then I saw your boy in there with his tongue down his girlfriend’s throat.” Tae rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, they’ve been at it all day.” It was true. Since the boys had left and everyone had dispersed earlier, Jalen had taken Juliana back to his room down the hall from Tae’s and proceeded to have the loudest sex humanly possible. If they were trying to make her jealous, it was not working but it sure was getting on her nerves. They had come down and canoodled on the stairs, done body shots for whatever reason, and had spent the majority of their time at Hendrix wrapped in each other’s arms, working up to, presumably, an indecent exposure charge at this point.

“So were they ones that were gonna fuck in the kitchen?” Rafe smirked as he sat in the seat Leslie had been occupying. He knew exactly what she had said, the glint in his eyes told her as much.

“Yup, you got it. Right next to the leftover crinkle cookies.”

“Oof, those were fantastic by the way. I wish I had taken more for the road.”

“Well, we have plenty left back at the house, you’re more than welcome to them.” Tae offered and he smiled back at her.

He leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs, their legs nearly touching. His finger traced over her denim clad knee. “Shit, I’ll go back with you right now for ‘em.”

“Okay, great, let’s go.” She was half-joking, though when he took out his keys and dangled them in front of her she raised an eyebrow. “You drove here?”

“I’m permanent DD.” He paused and shrugged. “I don’t drink, at least nothing more than the occasional beer or glass of wine.”

“Hm. Well, I’m a little drunk so you can drive me home and I’ll give you some cookies.” She caught herself. “The cookies. The cookies.”

“Right.” He stood up from the chair, offering his hand to her. “C’mon then.”

A quick push through the Hendrix crowd to get to her friends, Tae pointed at Rafe and they all began to aggressively give her a thumbs up. He led her out of the club, past her cousin and their friends, and if she had been a little more sober, she might’ve even noticed Jalen watching her leave but she wasn’t so she didn’t.

The cherry red interior was just as plush as she imagined and his playlist was exceptionally crafted, made up of indie pop and some Kaytranada tracks. The ride was quiet as the wind whipped her hair around her face and she thought she’d sobered up a bit by the time they got to 115. However, the staggering she did after he opened her door and helped her out of the car said otherwise. Still, he chuckled and steadied her, keeping that damn hand on her damn back as she walked to the front door and opened it.

Immediately kicking off her mules haphazardly by the steps, she walked straight to the kitchen while he lingered behind her a bit. The crinkle cookies sat in a Pyrex on the island and she popped off the cover to remove two to give to Rafe. She could feel the heat radiating off of him as she walked up behind her.

“Thanks. ‘Preciate it.” When she turned around, they were chest to chest. Damn, he smelled good as fuck! Her breathing picked up, as opposed to his even keeled breaths and when she looked up at him, making that eye contact she really did love so much, Tae wanted to lean in so bad. Their lips were practically already touching.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you enjoyed them.” Their lips were centimeters away from one another but he didn’t close the gap. Instead, he whispered.

“I did wanna fuck you in this kitchen today. I’ve wanted to fuck you since that first time you joined us at the bar last year.” The sound Tae let out was somewhere between a whimper and moan. “But not right now. Not when you’re drunk. The first time I kiss you, the first time I make you cum, I want you fully aware and sober, so you can remember all of it. Understand?”

She nodded.

“Use your words.”

“I understand, Rafe.”

He hummed. “Good girl.”

Rafe took a step back from her, her breathing still heavy and his cologne hanging in the air. He grabbed one of the cookies and took a bite with a smile.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He said, turning to leave the kitchen and then, the house. Tae stood there for a couple more minutes, fanning herself with her hand as she crossed over to the other side of the dark kitchen and grabbed a cup to pour herself some water.

Remembering her Owala sitting on her bedside table, she turned to walk back to the foyer and the stairs, stopping only when she saw her mules neatly sitting at the base of the staircase, waiting for her. Fuck.

#rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron #❥ 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 、summer house .#fanfic #fanfiction #outer banks fanfic #obx fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #black reader

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mostspecialgirl · 5 months ago

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with the release of the vivre card translations i cant help but think about my love of kaidou, queen and king. queen has SO much lore and notable importance as a figure within the world of one piece AND within the wano arc, meanwhile King is just sort of a lunarian and doesn’t have much else to him as a character aside from things directly tied to that fact. but that’s exactly why i love the two of them so much. King’s simplicity is what makes him great !!! KAIDOU JUST PICKED HIM UP AND WAS LIKE “hello experiment baby. this lab’s fuckin nuts right. Do you want to be best buddies cause’ i’m gonna change the world” And he was like “well shit im not doin anything else let’s do this man” AND THE REST WAS HISTORY

and on the other hand its so funny how queen was invited and waited SEVEN WHOLE ASS YEARS to show up at kaidou’s door because he was busy with MADS. seven whole years of kaidou and king probably golfing using poor starving people as golfballs down in wano with them going back and forth daily about if queen is going to accept his invitation or not, only for kaidou to one day call across the room like “GUESS WHO I JUST GOT A CALL BACK FROM! I TOLD YOU!! I TOLD YOUR ASS SCIEN WOULD JOIN!!!” And a few days later some big fat guy shows up at their doorstep and:

kaidou: who the fuck is this

Queen: it’s me scien

Kaidou: why the fuck are you fat now. im pretty sure you used to be ripped

Queen: Love eating #Funky #Exciting

Kaidou: well fuck yeah Welcome to the team

And proceeded to place him on equal standing with his best bro. Despite all the fucked up stuff he’s done this is why i can’t help but love kaidou. He’s kind of just a big stupid asshole who’s been fucking around his whole life trying to kill himself, kill everyone else and has been waiting for Super Mario From The Legends to show up at wano and kill him. He drinks during battle. He gets really sad about not having fair fights with people he’s actively trying to kill. He’s a total piece of shit and put his son in a cave and chains for his oden hyperfixation but actively respects his pronouns. He paid two of the most heinous men alive to fund The Worst Devil Fruits Ever. He never confirms a kill and just assumes anyone he swings at hard enough has died instantly. Kaidou what’s wrong with you dude i love you

and then throw in jack who kaidou definitely put in just so he could tell people they were the four horsemen who is the biggest pushover of all time who none of the three respect and he’s just fine with that. What is their problem

I dont care if this mischaracterizes them i just want to have fun

#one piece #mostspecialreading #wano spoilers #kaidou one piece #kaidou of the beasts #king the wildfire #queen the plague #jack the drought

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bow-of-aros · 3 months ago

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Day Twenty-Seven: Non-Human Parts

Summary:

Peter's been neglecting taking care of himself in order to get some schoolwork done and now he has to face the consequences of his actions in Ted's worried mother henning.

Hey folks! I don't care if wingfics are considered cringe (I also don't know if they are) I WROTE ONE ANYWAY! Hope that y'all enjoy my silly little Spankoffski bros because I love them so much <33

Peter was just about ready to throw himself out his bedroom window. He hadn’t preened his wings in weeks because he was busy with schoolwork and upcoming exams in shit. Obviously he knew that it was bad, he’d grown up being told to keep his wings nice and clean and normally he did.

Except he hadn’t been, so Peter had woken up this morning an awful combination of itchy and sore. Normally he would be able to get this sorted on his own, but he also hadn’t been letting them breathe, so he couldn’t quite get at where they’d cramped up on his back.

It sucked.

Peter was right in the middle of trying to yank his fingers through a stubborn tangle of feathers when he was interrupted.

“Hey Petey, I was gonna go to the store do you need—” Ted cut himself off as he took in the scene, “What the actual fuck is that?!”

Ted stood in his doorway wearing his best dad glare which was funny because Ted was not his dad. To be fair, Ted had practically raised him and had constantly been on his ass about proper hygiene.

And Peter had just been caught red-handed completely ignoring everything he’s been told.

“What does it look like? I’m preening and shit.” Ted’s eyebrows shot up and Peter winced internally. He’d basically guaranteed himself a lecture.

“Peter Spankoffski that is not preening!” Ted raked a hand through his hair before gesturing at the litany of feathers scattered across the floor, “If you keep going like this you’re gonna get bald patches dumbass! How long has it even been since you’ve done this?”

The longer Peter didn’t answer, the more unimpressed Ted looked. When it became clear that the answer was too long Ted just sighed and said, “Get your ass on the couch, I’ll be there in a minute.”

He didn’t even give Peter the chance to respond as he turned on his heel and marched down the hall muttering about dumbass little brothers.

Peter briefly considered ignoring Ted and going back to what he was doing, but that idea was quickly discarded when he realized that Ted would just come back up and physically drag him downstairs.

Looks like he’s getting his ass on the couch.

Ted’s grabbing a couple of things when Peter gets downstairs, face a mask of annoyance that the slight puffing of his wings betrays. He immediately feels a little guilty knowing that he’s worried his brother and decides to let Ted do his whole mother hen routine with minimal complaining.

Peter can’t help examining Ted’s wings as he waits, even though he knows exactly what they look like: A tan brown with warm yellow and white undertones. They’re nearly identical to Peter’s own.

He won’t lie and say that he’s not happy that he got the same wings as his brother. It’s definitely not uncommon for family members to develop similar patterns, but Peter likes the extra connection between them.

When they were younger, it had been Ted that helped him learn to preen. He’d shown Peter how to use his oil glands to keep everything moisturized and how to properly set his feathers straight. The whole time was spent alternating between silly games to keep him occupied and trying to drill into him how important it was to keep this up.

They were some of Peter’s fondest memories of him and his brother.

“Alright kid,” Ted’s voice cut through his thoughts, “You know the drill. Lie down and don’t move.”

If he’s surprised when Peter immediately complies, he doesn’t say anything. Peter feels the couch dip under him as Ted hovers over him and gets to work.

Ted works in silence for a little bit, the way he only does when he’s really focused on something. He combs the broken barbs and various shit from where they’ve tangled into his feathers.

That part goes relatively well, the only change being Peter gradually relaxing into the couch as his brother takes care of him just like when he was a little kid.

Then, Ted does his best to very gently remove the broken feathers from his wings and—

“Ah! Shit dude!”

Ted immediately withdrew his hands with a, “Sorry, kid. You doing alright down there?”

The pain has already faded to a muted sting, and Peter knows that this is a necessary part of the process even if he doesn’t like it.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Then, quieter, “You can keep going.”

He heard a snort above him as Ted got back to it, “You know, if I didn’t know you and how you disregard your actual physical health when school shit gets in the way, I’d say that you did this on purpose.”

“Don’t worry. This was 100% pure Spankoffski dumbassery.”

They go back and forth like that for a while, Ted occasionally pausing to work the oil through his wings and ease the kinks that Peter had left alone for too long.

While doing this, Ted brushed a little too close to the underside of Peter’s wings and Peter couldn’t help the small yelp that slipped out as he flinched away.

He could hear the smirk in his brother’s voice when he said, “I told you to hold still, Petey.” Another brush, another half-laugh, “Seriously! If you keep moving I’m going to have to start all over.”

“What?!” Peter shrieked as Ted moved properly to the softer feathers on the underside of his wings, “Wahahahait Ted! Nononono fuhuhuck!”

He struggled to stay still, the threat still looming over him, but Ted was not making this easy on him.

“You’re dohohoing this on puhuhuhurpose! Tehehehed!”

Ted just laughed at him, “Look kid! I wouldn’t be doing this if you had just taken care of yourself in the first place.”

He squeezed along the bone under the guise of working out more kinks, only succeding in drawing out cackling laughter as Peter began to lose the battle against his urge to thrash around.

“TEHEHEHED! Come ohohohohon!” He flailed wildly, trying to smack Ted’s hands away with some very uncoordinated attacks.

Peter breathed a sigh of relief as Ted withdrew his hands, patting his still laughing brother on the head as he caught his breath.

“You,” Peter said in between fits of lingering giggles, “Are evil!”

When he craned his neck to look up at Ted, Ted was smiling at him. And not the shit-eating I got you sort of grin either. It looked like the smile Peter could feel resting on his face, one that said You’re my brother and I love you and I love messing around with you.

When Ted caught Peter’s eye he just scoffed, trying to cover it up, “Yeah yeah, maybe try taking care of yourself next time. Because,” Ah. There was the shit-eating grin, “You moved around too much and fucked up my work, so I have to go through it all again.”

“Wait! Wahahait Ted! Nohohohoho!”

Yeah, Peter was definitely going to remember to take care of himself next time.

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crazyexdirkfriend · 3 months ago

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snippet from an unfinished multichapter by me, Tony ao3 user artreactor, from 2016

--------

If someone had told Jake English at the beginning that, aged twenty-two, he'd still be dating Dirk Strider, he would have completely believed them to be quite honest.

Of course, his reasons for being in a relationship with Dirk now are far different from what they were when he was fifteen. At that age, Jake honestly believed that entering a relationship with the other would be the commitment equivalent of tying an anchor to his leg and throwing himself into the Pacific Ocean. Dirk's despotic nature was inescapable, suffocating and he was always more likely to drown from it than from a silly anchor. Once he let Dirk kiss him (with blood in his mouth, under his tongue, prying it from cold, dead-) there was no way Dirk would ever let him go.

But Dirk letting him go is precisely the reason that he now has an iron clad grip on Jake's hair, plaiting it with the intensity he used to direct into aggressive courtship.

There's a certain safety in knowing that there is an entire universe, made with the aid of his own hands, sprawling outside their room. Any time he wants, Jake can simply run down the stairs of their communal living quarters and escape into seemingly endless vast fields and plains of green. Knowing that he's here because he wants to be and not out of some disheartening feeling of inevitability makes him far more comfortable with Dirk's presence and that's obviously one major step towards a healthy romantic relationship. Dirk would let him go if he wanted to and that's really all it takes to make him want to stay. Jake is not a fussy guy.

For example, Dirk is probably doing a terrible job of fixing his hair right now and Jake won't even bat an eyelid if he looks in the mirror and he's suddenly missing a few inches. He's been growing his hair since the game ended but of course it's never going to get to the length Jade's is, let alone how long his grandmother's was. Getting a comb through it most mornings is difficult enough and once it gets below his shoulders the knots simply have to be cut out. It's far too much hassle to maintain even if the idea of having floor length hair sort of gives him a fuzzy feeling in his stomach.

“Are you almost done?” he asks, impatient and he hears Dirk click his tongue behind him.

“Almost,” he replies and Jake feels him triple tie an elastic hair tie around the last of the plaits. Jade gave him a little over one hundred after becoming tired of watching him fail to remove hair from his plate during meal times but he's lost all but seven at this point.

When Dirk's hands leave his hair, Jake shakes his head, feeling the plaits thwack against his cheeks and neck. Dirk dutifully leans back to narrowly avoid a bobbon to the face. He grins, almost apologetic. “Thank you once again, bro,” he says, “Although I think you're starting to have a knack for this. Perhaps you missed your calling?”

“I've enough hair stress of my own,” comes the easy reply as Dirk lies back on the sofa, pushing his legs forward in a way that forces Jake to either stand up and move away or defiantly lie down on top of him. Jake chooses the latter.

“Of course you do. You've only what, eight more years of a not receding hairline to enjoy?” He earns a shove to the shoulder for that. It's an irrationally sore subject but all he can do is titter.

“I've always got hats, broski,” he says but there's a tilt of worry in his voice that makes Jake choke out another chortle.

He didn't ever expect to find continuous streams of bro puns charming or endearing let alone expect to pick them up himself. He always thought he'd be more of a romantic cliche nickname kind of guy. Darling, honey, sweetheart, love. But Dirk awkwardly stammered out a “babe” three years ago and hasn't tried since and Jake's surprisingly satisfied with that.

“But if you wear a hat, what are you going to do with your shirts?” he asks, pulling out the collar of Dirk's tank top before letting it fall back against his collarbone. “You can't possibly be thinking of changing your brand this late in the game, surely?”

“Don't sweat, I'm not delusional yet. Wearing a hat on my shirt is still the vastly superior thing.”

“Good. I was worried perhaps you were going both loony and bald.”

He shoves Jake off of him and he rolls on to the floor. It's completely worth it and Dirk's scowl is almost audible over the exaggerated laughter from the ground.

They stay like that for a few moments until Jake's tittering dies down and his chest stops heaving. Once that happens, Dirk casually rolls off the sofa, landing on top of the other with a soft thump. Jake's breath leaves him again, stifling whatever complaints were bubbling up in his mouth. Before he can catch his breath again, Dirk leans in, rubbing their noses together in that silly, endearing way he does to allow Jake time to move away if he wants to.

It's been six years, yes, but there are still times where Jake does not want to be close to anyone, let alone close enough to breathe in Dirk's second hand air. Those times come more often than he would especially like but they come with the battle scars. Jake supposes it's a testemant to their maturity that now he can vocalise when he needs space and Dirk will give it to him, no qualms.

But today is not a day Jake moves away. Instead, he tilts his head, moving in to press his lips chastely against Dirk's. They stay like that for a few moments, shallowly breathing through their noses, before he pulls away, grinning widely. It's a beat before Dirk's face splits to match.

The serenity lasts a further thirty seconds before Jake finds himself crushed under Dirk plus an added weight that could only be Roxy if her grin looming over Dirk's shoulder wasn't any indicator.

“I can't breathe,” Jake complains, wheezing. Dirk's elbow is stuck into his ribcage and his hip bone is poking his thigh.

“If you couldn't breathe, talking would also be an impossibility,” Rose says simply, upside down from Jake's view as she stands with the toes of her shoes pressed against his scalp.

“Yeah, besides, you weren't complainin' about breathing when your tongue was down DiStri's throat,” Roxy croons and Jake's ears go pinker than her lipstick.

“No offense, but I'd rather macking on my bro be the cause of my suffocation than being crushed under your weight, Lalonde,” Dirk says but she only laughs.

“Rose, get in on this!”

“I couldn't possibly have the deaths of two so young on my conscience.”

Roxy somehow convinces Calliope to join in when she walks through the room and it's only when they're distracted with things Jake feels like he should be averting his eyes for that Dirk manages to heave both of them off him in a swift roll. Rose gives Jake a hand up to the sounds of Roxy wrestling Dirk to the ground for accidentally rolling Calliope into the coffee table. Jane is shouted in less than two minutes later to survey the prisoner, caught between Roxy's knees as she sits firmly, and triumphantly, on his chest. The resident detective solemnly notes that the only punishment fit for the crime of accidentally tossing a cherub into a piece of furniture is twenty years hard time, which apparently means enduring ten minutes of furious tickling. Jake thinks it's all slightly ridiculous.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

#this was the intro scene so it's absolutely nothing to do with what the eventual plot would have been but.#it's kind of cute and drabbly alone #presented unedited #dirkjake #homestuck

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issybettyx · 2 years ago

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BEDROCK BROS AU

Tdlr; Tommy was born into a crime family and is forced into their ideals and pursuits since a young age. Aged 14, he finally goes to therapy without his brother and father knowing. Technoblade is a therapist, purely because he understands the human mind very well and not because of his terrible comforting skills.

Tommy: i have trauma oh and my family is like the most well known crime organisation the police havent been able to catch

Techno: chill, don’t worry man i’m here for you

Or; i listened to music again. And ‘Bust your kneecaps’ came on. And i kind of accidentally made it bedrock bros.

-- // weapons, trauma, blood mention, murder mention, death mention, terrible parents (bad parent Phil, i know, who have i become), arguing

Tommy wasn’t sure when his first heist was. He didn’t remember much of it, that much he was sure of. But he did remember the gut wrenching fear mixed with a determination only caused by the want for a father’s approval.

Wilbur had said he was 7, his mask didn’t fit perfectly but his gun fit fantastically between his fingers, and simply his presence was enough for news of The Syndicate’s newest and youngest member to spread faster than wildfire, and it was news stations’ top story for over three weeks.

Theories of who he was, how old he was, why he seemed to confident despite his young age and questions of why The Syndicate would take in a recruit so young.

“You were our ray of sunshine, Toms,” Wilbur told him with a grin that Tommy couldn’t help but return, accepting the hair ruffles whole-heartedly, “Simply you being there made the entire mission so much easier, I’m so proud of you.”

Maybe those words weighed too much for Tommy to let go, maybe he knew that if he told them how much he was truly against their actions he would never hear them again, and that fear was enough for him to keep his head high for the next seven years of his life. His name made it onto the villain rankings within a matter of months, dubbed number 15 aged 8. It was when Tommy was 11 he reached number 4, and aged 13 when he was number 3, just below his brother.

It had always been that way, Tommy being one of the best but never the best. Phil had always made sure he knew it, assuring him he was amazing at what he did, correcting his hold on the knife until it was perfect for flicking at his opponents, a smile on his face the whole time as he congratulated him. But the way he looked at Wilbur, with a brighter smile, with more pride radiating from his glistening blue eyes as his son burned down entire streets without a single fingerprint to lead it back to him.

Wilbur had always been better than him, and Tommy had come to accept that.

Well, he thought he had.

It was on Tommy’s 14th birthday that he went downstairs to find Wilbur muttering something into his phone, an angry lilt to the way he spoke that made the kid pause.

“No, not today,” he huffed, and Tommy could practically hear him pinching the bridge of his nose, rubbing the corners of his eyes and slightly lifting the glasses off his face in the process, “No, it’s my brother’s birthday, I’m not- dad.”

Oh, it seemed Phil wasn’t there that morning, how strange.

“Well one of us has to be here, he deserves a proper birthday and to be surrounded by people who love him, I’ll help you on fucking Christmas if it means I get to stay home today.”

There was such a firmness to his voice that made Tommy shiver, cupping a hand over his mouth to mask his shaky breaths.

“Fine, but you better be home for dinner.” Wilbur scowled, and the ringing sound of someone hanging up could be heard.

After a moment of deathly silence, Tommy finally walked out, forcing his face into a smile as he peeked his head around the doorframe. The moment Wilbur saw him, his smile widened, and he was rushing right up to him, lifting him up and spinning him.

“Happy birthday sunshine!” He cheered with a bright smile, and Tommy smiled back, knowing his grin could never rival the sun that was his brother’s. “Would you like presents or breakfast first?” He asked, gently landing Tommy’s feet on the carpeted ground and crouching down to his level, ruffling his hair as he giggled, attempting to swat the hand away.

They opened presents first, and despite the fact Tommy wanted to state just how much he adored each gift, thoughts kept swimming around his brain.

Why was Phil working that day? Why did Wilbur seem so off? Why was Wilbur better than him? Why, no matter how hard he tried, was he never enough for his family?

These thoughts led him to Google, seeing as no one else had the answers he assumed Google would (he’d asked Tubbo a random question once, and he’d replied with ‘just ask Google, Google knows everything’). The Google search led Tommy to something called ‘therapy’, which led him to standing outside of a random building two weeks later, taking shaky breaths as he thought everything over.

Everything in therapy, apparently, was confidential. Unless of course it put you or others in danger, but therapists were forced by law to keep everything else in the room within the hour slot given.

As long as Tommy was extremely careful and didn’t mention anything about evil plots and how his father and brother were the top two villains of L’Manberg, he himself being number three, then he could get away with it.

The doors swung open with his forceful confidence, and he flashed a smile at the receptionist as he sauntered over to her, leaning against a wall that was provided. “Here for therapy.” He stated, as if it wasn’t completely obvious. The woman looked him up and down, sighing before smiling, clicking a few times on her computer.

“Name?”

“Tommy Craft.”

“Age?”

“14.”

She looked at him in a strange way, raising an eyebrow that he only returned.

“Do you have parental consent?”

Oh, Google had told him about this too. Lying was never off his agenda, you learn from the very best in fact.

“Well my doctor permitted it, said I was aware enough of my treatment to understand I need it, my Mum dropped me off.” He explained, pointing out front to the car park. Only then did the woman sigh again, clicking again a few times before smiling back at him.

“You can go right in, down the hall and the second door on the left.” She pointed, and Tommy nodded, giving her a short bow.

“Appreciate you,” he told her, before strolling down the hall, keeping his head high and his shoulders lax, humming a melody his brother had played him on his birthday evening when their father still hadn’t gotten home (he got home at 2am, Wilbur was absolutely infuriated, Tommy was surprised to find he didn’t really care). Eventually, he found the door, reading the name plate on the door before knocking.

“Come in.” A deep voice called back to him, and Tommy turned the handle, smiling at the man behind the desk.

A buff man with pink hair wouldn’t be his first guess at a therapist; however, Tommy was a villain, not a horrible person. The man’s hands were crossed across his chest, his legs propped onto the desk showing how his boots didn’t have a speck of dirt, and a pair of reading glasses were perched on his nose.

In one aspect, he looked terrifying. His very small smile matched with his horribly white and completely uncreased frilled shirt painting a strange image, his folded hands too calloused to be anything normal.

In another aspect, Tommy could kick him square in the face and he’d immediately pass out.

“You must be Tommy,” he greeted, and he expected a handshake or something, but instead he just received a small gesture to a w chair with wheels opposite himself. “Take a seat.”

“What’s your name, Dr Blade?” Tommy teased with a grin, falling into the chair and leaning his ankle on top of his knee, sinking into the plush as the wheels rolled it slightly backwards. The man rolled his eyes, flicking a coin between his fingers - when in hells name did he pick up a coin?

“Techno. My name is Techno Blade, you can call me whatever.” He said with a shrugged, chucking the coin into the air and letting it land in his shirt pocket, smiling slightly with pride at his little trick. “How are you today, Tommy?”

It was in that moment that Tommy decided therapy was extremely strange and not for him at all. This man looked completely indifferent, he looked like he would rather be at home reading a book as he threw raw meat at his wolves, not sitting and asking how people’s days are going.

“Technoblade, today I am absolutely fantastic, I woke up, got breakfast, and came here.” He explained, bringing his arms out in a wide gesture. “Pretty remarkable day.”

The man huffed, seemingly amused by the sarcasm.

“Hate to ask such a blunt question kiddo,” Tommy frowned at the name, but decided against commenting on it for now. Didn’t want to upset the man on his first day meeting him. Totally wasn’t a choice made completely out of the rising fear in his chest. “But why are you in therapy? We ask this too all of our patients.”

“Patients? You make it sound like a hospital.” He scoffed, clearly avoiding the question in such a slick way only he and his brother were able to master. But Techno stayed quiet, watching him with a careful eye. Tommy frowned. “What are you doing in therapy? Huh? Technoblade?”

He still didn’t reply.

Strange.

“You’re creeping me out man, your eyes are practically red- oh my god you have red eyes, that’s so cool!”

Silence.

Tommy frowned further, sinking into his chair.

Why was he in therapy?

Google told him to be here, was his first thought. But then he remembered his English lessons, how the teachers always asked why, how they never took anything at face value. Techno seemed like an English teacher, he didn’t seem like someone who would take kindly to the answer ‘Google told me to be here’.

“Family stuff, I guess.” He replied, not one bit pleased, his face quite the contrary to the satisfied hum Techno gave him, picking up a pen and post-it-note, scribbling a few words before looking back up.

“Wanna draw?”

“I’m sorry?”

“This is the first session,” he started, folding his hands in front of him, “We don’t need to get emotional on the first day, it’s about building trust. Speaking of which,” Techno started, and Tommy already knew what he was about to say, “Everything you say in this room is confidential, I only take notes of things I need to remember for future sessions, however if you say something that could put you or others in danger I am legally meant to pass it on, do you understand?”

“No revealing my villain schemes to you, got it.” He replied, half seriously and half jokingly, but the man didn’t seem to hear the former part of the tone, huffing again.

“Well, if they include burying bodies, I know a guy.” He replied just as quickly, and Tommy couldn’t help his laughter, stealing a pen and a post-it-note, immediately sitting it to the arm of his spinning chair and doodling the first thing that came to mind.

The first session went… better than Tommy first thought it would.

There wasn’t any stress when be talked to Techno, and for just that hour he felt a strange safety in the chair as he listened to his therapist talk about polar bears. Tommy found himself rambling about moths half way through, paused to realise the man was listening so carefully that he involuntarily continued, smiling all the while.

After the hour of serenity, the house of chaos he walked into wasn’t exactly what he expected.

“Maybe my grades would be better if I wasn’t out fucking shooting up buildings!” Wilbur yelled way too loudly, and Tommy was glad he’d shut the door as quickly as he had, kicking his shoes off at the door. “Be so fucking glad I respect this organisation and my reputation, or I would be booting it into the sewers.”

“Tommy’s grades are great and he does more shit than you do!” Phil yelled back, and Tommy immediately grimaced, walking into the room with furrowed brows. Neither spared him a glance. “What happened to you, Wil? You used to be so good.” He finished almost wistfully, lifting a hand to touch his cheek, but the brunette immediately slapped it away, ignoring the pained look on Phil’s face as he did so.

“I can’t fucking believe you.”

Tommy didn’t like hearing his brother swear, flinching as he took a careful step back, not entirely sure who to side with.

“Never compare your children! It’s fucking disgusting!”

“I don’t compare you guys, I love you both equally-“

“Equally my arse-“

“Stop!” Tommy shouted over them, and that finally made them pause, staring at him as he stood in the doorway, struggling to hold down his shivers at the icy glares sent his way. “Both of you are acting so fucking childish it’s pathetic!”

“But-“

“You’re just proving my point, Phil.” Tommy never called his dad by his first name out loud, mainly out of pure respect, reserving his first name only for his thoughts or times when Phil wasn’t showing him the same respect back. It seemed to hit a sore spot, because the man flinched, confusion and hurt written over his face. “Whatever you’re both arguing about, you should shut up and get over it! You chose to create this organisation, you chose to have no spare time to study or be at your children’s birthdays, so get over it and get on with stabbing whatever orphans you chose this weekend.”

And without waiting for an answer, Tommy rushed upstairs, leaving behind a stale silence that he didn’t bothering acknowledging, falling onto his bed with a sigh.

Apparently, Tubbo cried when he was angry; that’s what he’d said anyways.

Tommy wasn’t sure what he did when he was angry, but he sure knew what the emotion itself felt like, and he knew most people didn’t simply brush it off as a normal Friday evening and fall off to sleep with ease, letting the emotion simmer until it ultimately gave up.

For a moment, he wondered what Techno did when he was angry, but he pushed the thought away before he could entertain it, forcing his eyes shut until his mind drifted into the abyss.

—

Tommy knocked on the door, the same low voice calling him in as last time forcing him to turn the doorknob. After a moment, he slipped into the chair, keeping a frown on his face as Techno waited expectantly, clearly not a fan of starting emotional conversations despite his job.

“How-“ he started, biting his lip as he tried to push the question away. And yet, he’d been trying it all week, dodging past the longing stares and the tired eyes in favour of going on walks or calling Tubbo. The thought kept returning as the anger simmered away. Phil had never liked stupid questions, constantly scolding him when he asked something he should know the answer to.

But how would he know the answer to this? He didn’t know Techno, not enough anyways.

Was it a stupid question? He knew Phil would say so.

“How do you deal with anger?” He asked anyways, fighting away the anxiety sitting in his head with a sigh to release any tension in his shoulders, keeping his legs still and his face even.

Tommy expected many things in reply; maybe a laugh and a ‘I don’t feel anger, you’re on your own kiddo’, or maybe a ‘don’t be stupid you should know’.

However, he never would’ve guessed the man would genuinely reply. “I do fencing in my spare time, helps release any pent up emotions, a friend recommended it when I was still in school.” He explained, and Tommy forced his face to stay apathetic, keeping just how baffled he was in his nagging mind. When Techno looked up at him, plucking his glasses from his face and twisting them in his hands, that strange sense of safety returned. “Why do you ask?”

Now, Tommy had many options.

He could lie; say he was angry at his friend Tubbo who stole his sandwich at lunch that day.

He could stay silent; a safe option, it would risk not leaking any information about anything.

He could go on a ramble about moths again; now that one was certainly tempting, moths were certainly interesting.

However, he did none of these things, and did one thing that was so foreign to his tongue it made his fingers twitch.

“My brother and Dad had a fight on Friday and brought me into it, it just pissed me off I guess.”

He told the truth.

Tommy couldn’t remember the last time he’d told the truth so easily and without an ounce of consideration, telling the truth wasn’t in his plans at all! And yet, the words were forced out of him as easily as a river flows. And Techno simply hummed, writing something down on a post-it-note.

“How do you usually deal with strong emotions?” He asked slowly, raising an eyebrow at the kid who frowned, looking at the ground in thought.

“I don’t feel strong emotions.” Was what he finally decided on, and that seemed to shock the other a little more than expected.

“What about that anger you were just on about?” He asked, a little baffled and clearly a little joking, yet there was a genuineness to his tone that made Tommy falter. Now that was where he drew the line. Tommy didn’t falter, he didn’t stumble amidst a fight or shake when he he held a gun, and he certainly didn’t start to like the idea of being listened to for once by someone who seemed horrendously trust-worthy.

“That-“ he started, shaking his head as he tried to force his mouth firmly shut, but it seemed his brain had other plans, “That feels normal at this point, that anger that I felt is just how I always feel, it’s natural I guess.”

The room fell into a strange silence, with Tommy clamping his hand over his mouth and Techno thinking in a quiet consideration.

“Do I have your permission to ask a possibly sensitive question?” Techno asked after the moment stretched on too long, and Tommy found himself blinking in confusion, pulling his hand away from his mouth as he slowly nodded. Techno cleared his throat, “What was your childhood like?”

The way Tommy froze was likely answer enough.

Tommy remembers the joy he felt as Phil gave him his first knife for Christmas when he was 5, and Wilbur’s giddy chuckles were enough to make him treasure it. Phil had also bought him a dummy to practice on, and he made sure to spend any spare time he had on mastering the arts of wielding a knife.

He remembers hearing a muttered promise as he drifted off to sleep, he was four at the time and had woken from a nightmare.

‘Whatever the cost, I will always protect you.’ Phil had whispered when he assumed Tommy had fallen asleep; but a four-year-old who’d just witnessed a murder because of an attempt on his own life never drifted off easily.

And that was… it. Anything else from before he was seven, he didn’t have any recollection of it.

However, he felt the dread in his stomach, the feeling of blood on his fingertips and noticed how his legs had started to shake despite no pressure being applied to them at all.

Those sweet memories apparently didn’t mean much to Tommy’s mind, despite how much joy he looked back on them with.

“Honestly?” He asked, Techno nodding encouragingly. “I don’t know.”

“You froze when I mentioned it.” The man pointed out, and Tommy frowned, forcing his leg to stop bouncing before the other noticed that too. “It can’t have been great.”

“I remember that I was loved, and I was safe, and I remember about two memories before the age of 7.” He confessed, his attempts at stopping the words flowing almost completely gone already with the knowledge he couldn’t stop. Maybe it was the calm atmosphere, maybe it was the genuinely interested expression on Techno’s face, or maybe it was the painting of a polar bear that was hung on the wall staring into his soul and commanding he let out all his secrets. Whatever it was, Tommy couldn’t manage to fight it no matter how hard he tried.

“Why before 7?” He asked, and Tommy paused, staring into his eyes with something uncertain. This time, not even his body willed him to speak, which Tommy was ever thankful for. “You don’t have to tell me, you’re not obliged to.”

“Why do you speak like that?”

“Speak like what?”

“Obliged,” he mocked, trying and failing to mimic the man’s extremely small smile, “Permission.” He expressed, and the man’s hands moved in front of his mouth, a questioning look on his face, “They are very strange words.”

“Would you rather me say ‘need’ and ‘allowed’?” He asked cautiously, clearly asking a question that Tommy somehow didn’t catch, sighing with a soft smile that said ‘you are so fucking dumb it hurts me’.

“I would rather you talk to me like the child I am,” he explained, deciding that this was a lesson well worth teaching the other, “I don’t get a chance to choose, you don’t need ‘permission’ from me, and I am obliged, that’s my entire point of being here, to listen to what adults tell me to do without a second thought.”

The room was silent, and Tommy sighed, frowning at the strange expression on the man’s face.

“What? The honest truth too much for you to handle?”

“Tommy.” He started, the boy humming, partially keen to hear how he’d learned his lesson. “Tommy you-“ he paused, thinking over his words carefully and making Tommy pause with him, fear returning ever so slightly. “Who told you that?”

“I-“ he started, clamping his mouth shut in favour of glaring at Techno. The man sounded and looked a little insane, thought Tommy would be lying if he said he didn’t consider dying his hair pink after their first session (he ultimately decided it wouldn’t look good for his villain brand).

“As a human, you’re entitled to respect, do you know what that means?” He asked, and the question seemed… foreign, in a way. Usually, questioned worded as such were said with such malice and scolding he was forced to say yes and agree; but Techno asked it so honestly, genuine concern written beneath his words.

“No?”

Tubbo had probably said it once, but then again Tubbo said many things.

“Respect means to regard other people’s feelings, opinions, emotions, and so on,” he explained, and Tommy frowned, tilting his head to the side in questioning. “For example, if you told me you didn’t want to eat mint ice cream, I wouldn’t force you to eat it, because i’m taking your feelings into regard, does that make sense?”

The concept made sense, but that wasn’t how the world worked.

Wilbur had explained it as such; the world doesn’t give you love, so why love it? Why, if the world was going to destroy you, should you not destroy it first?

“I- kind of?” He tried, bringing his knees to his chest and resting his chin on top of them, pulling his arms around his legs. “But who respects people? Do you respect people?”

“I do, I respect everyone who respects me,” Techno explained, “And sometimes even those who don’t respect me.”

Tommy frowned even further.

“Why?”

Techno hummed for a moment, tapping his pen on his desk in thought.

“Who’s your closest friend?”

“Tubbo.” Tommy replied immediately, no hesitation, and Techno smiled as if he’d won the lottery (in the Technoblade smile books anyhow).

“Okay, so imagine if Tubbo did something terrible, and he made you feel really sad.” It sounded as if he was a toddler, but again Tommy didn’t comment. “But then he apologised and showed he was really regretful of his actions, what would you do?”

After a quick moment of thought, Tommy replied, “Forgive him.”

“Right. But would you have to forgive him?”

“Yes.” Tommy replied just as quickly and just as confidently, and was only confused when Techno paused, his onslaught of questions coming to a halt. So, he decided to explain his opinion, maybe he would finally agree with something he said. “It’s not good to hold grudges, and if I forgive them it makes them happier, and I want Tubbo to be happy.”

The room stayed silent, and Tommy decided it would be best to stay quiet, watching the other closely as he looked across the room, a lost look in his eyes.

“Can I give you some homework, Tommy?”

At the prospect, he scoffed. “Therapy homework? Seriously Technoblade, you’ve fallen to a new low big man.”

“Your therapy homework this week is to not do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” Techno said it with such seriousness he couldn’t argue, slowly nodding. “Set boundaries, and if Tubbo comes and says he’s murdered your cousin don’t immediately forgive him.”

“If Tubbo committed murder he would have a damn good reason to do so.”

“Tommy.”

“Right, therapy homework, boundaries, learn respect, got it.”

Techno leaned back in his chair, and despite it all, Tommy found himself doing the same, enjoying the calm environment far more than he probably should.

Maybe he could get used to this.

They spoke about raccoons for the rest of the session, and Tommy felt a determination burning in his chest as he strolled down the hallway, waving goodbye to the receptionist lady.

The determination was a foreign feeling; it wasn’t the determination to make his father proud of him, or to be better than his brother, but rather to make him proud of himself.

And maybe, it all started with Technoblade.

//////——————////////

There was so much more i wanted to write but this shit was getting long and my heart is playing up again, so uh, bedrock bros :D

Hope yall enjoyed, yknow if you somehow managed to read the entire thing I sure hope you didn’t waste your time LMAO

Ily all <3

#tommyinnit #technoblade #wilbur soot #philza #dream smp #mcytblr #sbi #sleepy bois inc #bedrock bros #crimeboys #dream smp au #bedrock bros au #sand duo #therapist technoblade #villain tommy #villain wilbur #villain philza

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lotus-corner · 1 year ago

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Adding Up The Tickles

Ler!Six Lee!Nine

This is my first tickle fic. SFW, of course. Uh...Idk what else to put here. The full thing under the cut. Btw this takes place between 1.5M Sub Special and 2M Sub Special.

"How are we supposed to get them to get along!?" Eight asked Ten as Nine and Six observed.

"We could make them wear the get along shirt," Ten suggested.

"Seven and Five burned that thing when they wore it last time," Eight replied.

"Oh, you're right. Well, you two are going to have to do something else than beating each other up," Ten noted.

"Maybe they should tickle each other," Eight joked, "Make tickles, not punches."

"I don't know," Nine responded.

"Sounds like a plan," Six told them.

"You know, I am very ticklish," Nine frowned.

Six chuckled to herself.

"I was just kidding," Eight added.

"Well, maybe, Nine might like it," Six gleaned.

"No!" Nine denied.

"Well, maybe there are other things we can do instead of tickling each other. We can-" Ten was cut off.

"They ran away," Eight sighed.

"We better go find them," Ten added.

"Fine," Eight retorted, "They are such kids."

As they began to trek to Nine and Six. Nine found a tree and climbed it. He was scared of his mind. They really didn't want to be tickled. They rubbed their hands together in fear.

"Hey, I am hiding from Five. They made me mad. Get your own tree, Nine!" Seven yelled.

"Please let me hide here, too! Eight joked about Six and I tickling each other. And now they want to tickle me," Nine cried.

"Fine, but only because I hate Six. Do you hate being tickled as much as I hate Six?" Seven wondered.

"No, I actually kind of like being tickled. I just don't like being it out of the blue. I just don't know how I feel," Nine explained, "You won't tell anyone, bro?"

Seven thought about whether or not to push Nine out of the tree or protect her from Six. Seven diecded to dig deeper into Nine's mind.

"I won't. Regardless, you want to tell me more?" Seven wondered.

"Okay," Nine took a deep breath, "I just can’t put my finger on it. Maybe I am just scared everyone will see Six tickling me, and then everyone will figure I am a prime target for tickles. I don't want things to change between any of us. But it has, I just told you I kind of like getting tickled."

Nine began to start crying and hyperventilating. Seven wanted to comfort Nine, but they weren't sure how. They would also both be found out due to Nine's panicking.

"It'll be okay," Seven reassured.

"No, I-I told you I liked being tickled," Nine wailed, "People will tickle me!"

"Nine, just let Six tickle me," Seven added.

"That's awfully nice of you, Seven. I think she'd rather get back at me," Nine calmed down.

"You wanna go see if we can find Eight and Ten and tell them you don't want Six to tickle you?" Seven asked.

Nine quietly nodded, and they got down from the tree. Nine then spotted Six and hid behind Seven. Six ran up to Seven.

"Hey, stupid, where's Nine?" Six questioned.

"He went that way," Seven lied.

"No, I am right here," Nine walked to Six, "Go ahead and tickle me. I am sorry for running away. I am just so scared of change."

"Six, just tickle me and not Nine," Seven told them.

"No, Seven, I must do this. It's me she wants. Go back into the tree and avoid Five," Nine added.

"As long as this is what you want," Seven replied.

"It'll be okay, Seven. I need to be open about this part of me, and maybe it won't be so scary," Nine faintly smiled.

"Okay, Nine, just yelp if you need me," Seven added, climbing back the tree.

"All right, Six, let's start nice and slow," Nine informed.

Six grinned and walked up to them, "Let’s start here."

Six began roughly tickling Nine's armpits but then quickly moved to their sides. She blistered out with giggles. Six then moved closer to Nine's tummy. Nine's laughter got louder.

"Did I find your ticklish spot?" She teased.

"I-I didn't know," Nine laughed.

Eight and Ten spotted them. They ran to Nine and Six. Eight smiled at the sight. Ten was uncertain of the situation.

"See, they aren't fighting anymore," Eight noted.

"But is Nine okay?" Ten wondered.

"I am go-good, Ten," Nine smiled.

"Didn’t you say you didn't like to tickled though?" Ten asked.

"I kin-kinda like it," Nine attempted.

"Okay, my arms are getting tired," Six added.

"How'd go?" Eight asked.

"I got my anger out," Six answered.

"That was fun," Nine smiled.

"Were you scared we would tickle you if we found out you kind of liked tickling?" Ten asked.

"Of course," Nine replied.

"Don't worry, Nine," Eight told her, "I won't tickle you out of the blue. But I will give you a ten second warning if I do tickle you."

"Oh," Nine frowned.

"Just kidding, twenty seconds at minimum," Eight responded.

#lotuswrites #object show tickles #xfohv tickles #sfw tickling community #sfw tickle fic

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apocalypticavolition · 9 months ago

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Let's (re)Read The Dragon Reborn! Chapter 2: Saidin

I am running out of pictures so rapidly it's alarming. It's as if I've moved beyond the territory of the show and the comic books and so all we've got left is text, which is apparently terrible for engagement. Also terrible for engagement is warning people about spoilers, which is why I won't tell anyone who doesn't already know that this post contains spoilers for the whole of The Wheel of Time series. Come right in and make lots of outraged replies about how I've ruined everything for you instead.

This chapter starts with the dragon's fang symbol, probably because it's literally called "Saidin" and Rand will be fucking things up with it.

All the women who came insisted on speaking to Moiraine immediately, and alone. The news that Moiraine chose to share with the rest of them did not always seem very important, but the women held the intensity of a hunter stalking the last rabbit in the world for his starving family.

It's almost like they're working for an Aes Sedai, and not just any Aes Sedai but one of the few left who tries to live up to the old standard. I'd think that pretty important too unless I was literally dyingn of thirst.

Or ever, he added to himself. Moiraine had kept them there all winter. The Shienarans did not think she gave the orders, not here, but Perrin knew that Aes Sedai somehow always seemed to get their way. Especially Moiraine.

I get that you're stir-crazy bro but do you really WANT to be wandering the wilderness in the middle of winter, fighting battles that you can avoid by staying still? What alternatives do you have other than "Don't do what Moiraine wants because she's Aes Sedai"?

“The Tinker woman is going to die,” she said softly, eyeing the others near the fires. None was close enough to hear.

It's times like this you can remember why Min doesn't particularly want her powers. She's probably seen quite a few people who were going to die soon by this point, just because when you walk by so many people in a city it's bound to happen sooner or later.

“Is that her name? I wish I didn’t know. It always makes it worse, knowing and not being able to. . . . Perrin, I saw her own face floating over her shoulder, covered in blood, eyes staring. It’s never any clearer than that.” She shivered and rubbed her hands together briskly.

I wonder if these omens she sees are realistic enough to be as traumatizing as seeing the actual thing.

He thought of the wolves. No! The scouts would find anyone or anything trying to approach the camp.

Good job helping fulfill Min's prophecy, Perrin. Things might have been different if you'd used your resources to your fullest advantage.

She had told him; she had tried warning people about bad things when, at six or seven, she had first realized not everyone could see what she saw. She would not say more, but he had the impression that her warnings had only made matters worse, when they were believed at all.

Poor Min.

It had made him cautious and careful, and regretful of his anger when he let it show. “I am sorry, Min. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I did not mean to hurt you.” She gave him a surprised look.

Really I think my problem with Perrin is that it's very obvious that he has completely over-corrected for problems in the past to the point where he's now too afraid to do much of anything on his own.

“Strange,” she said softly, “how you seem to care so much about the Tuatha’an. They are utterly peaceful, and I always see violence around—” He turned his head away, and she cut off abruptly.

And again, it's other women tearing Perrin apart with words much more than him hurting them physically or emotionally. Perrin's problem is that at heart he absolutely agrees that violence is damaging even in self-defense but he exists in an Age where that self-defense is very necessary.

She rolled her eyes at Perrin, a wry twist to her mouth. “All I wanted was to live as I pleased, fall in love with a man I chose. . . .” Her cheeks reddened suddenly, and she cleared her throat.

1. Min, almost no one chooses who they fall in love with. 2. You're lucky you're blabbering in front of Perrin and Loial and not anyone with an understanding of love because for all your "don't like to talk about your visions" thing, you sure are signposting it for everyone.

The Ogier looked at them, suddenly shy, his ears twitching. “Promise you will not laugh? I think I might write a book about it. I have been taking notes.”

Really, you could argue that Loial has hardly been swept up into the ta'veren stuff at all yet. If he'd met anyone so interesting as Rand and crew, he might have chosen to go traveling with them anyway. After all, his choosing to leave the groves had nothing to do with them.

Uno, who could hardly say a sentence without a curse, spoke now with the deepest respect. The others echoed him. “Honor to serve.” Masema, who saw ill in everything, and whose eyes now shone with utter devotion; Ragan; all of them, awaiting a command if it were Rand’s pleasure to give one.

While Rand of course dislikes this treatment, I do think that having to deal with this for a few months is the start of his arrogance. You can't be treated like this by every normal person you spend time with without it starting to rub off on you.

And aside from Moiraine and Lan, there were only the three of them—Min, Loial, and him—who did not stare at Rand as if he stood above kings. And of the three only Perrin knew him from before.

It's rather unfortunate that Perrin instinctively understands why Rand needs him here and tosses that aside much later on in the story. All three of the boys seem to backslide a bit as a result of what happens to them.

A man—a thing!—everyone was taught to loathe and fear from childhood. Only . . . it was hard to stop seeing the boy he had grown up with. How do you just stop being somebody’s friend?

Prejudices - even really rational ones like "Don't trust the dudes who can and will melt you in their sleep" - tend to have a hard time sticking around in the face of empathy, which Perrin to his credit does have a lot of. It's why he's a little better at dealing with this stuff than Mat.

He began to laugh mirthlessly, his shoulders shaking. “I have the duty, because there isn’t anybody else, now is there?”

Rand's not going mad from the taint here, but rather from the reality of his position finally setting in. The weight of the world is on his shoulders so it's understandable that he's cracking under the strain. And that more than anything is why Moiraine is right to have him wait - if he did go out onto the Plain in this state he'd probably snap in battle instead of thrive like he has before.

Perrin almost laughed himself, in confusion. “If you agree with her, why in the Light do you argue all the time?” “Because I have to do something. Or I’ll . . . I’ll—burst like a rotted melon!”

Like Perrin, Rand's big problem in this sequence is that he doesn't have any viable alternatives and just whines a lot instead. There's a lot Rand could be doing (more training with Lan, trying to learn politics from Moiraine, studying with Loial, etc.) but instead of dedicating himself to his fate he just laments all the deaths that are happening in his name instead. This is naturally only going to lead to more problems down the line.

Rand shivered; despite the chill, there was sweat on his face. His eyes were still shut tight. “Oh, Light,” he groaned, “it pulls so.”

Nope, this isn't taint madness either (I will be doing my best to demonstrate to you why NONE of his craziness in this book can be chalked up to that specifically). Remember: Rand is a wilder and he's still in that awkward "could easily draw enough power to burn himself out because he doesn't even know the proper exercises for starting out with the power" phase.

Rand stood with his head thrown back, his eyes still shut tight. He did not seem to feel the thrashing of the ground that had him now at one angle, now at another. His balance never shifted, no matter how he was tossed. Perrin could not be certain, being shaken as he was, but he thought Rand wore a sad smile. The trees flailed about, and the leatherleaf suddenly cracked in two, the greater part of its trunk crashing down not three paces from Rand. He noticed it no more than he noticed any of the rest.

The land and Rand are one, so he externalizes his temper tantrum out onto the world to avoid having to acknowledge his actual feelings.

Rand looked around as if seeing things for the first time. The fallen leatherleaf, and the broken branches. There was, Perrin realized, surprisingly little damage. He had expected gaping rents in the earth. The wall of trees looked almost whole.

And of course, Rand hasn't really addressed any of his internal issues so while he's a little disheveled, nothing has actually changed.

“They’re always there, dreams,” Rand said, so softly Perrin barely heard. “Maybe they tell us things. True things.” He fell silent, brooding.

Rand is of course also snapping under the pressure of Ba'alsy's TAR campaign. The lack of good sleep is already catching up to him here and it's not going to be getting better anytime soon.

Ah well. Next time: News!

#let's read #wheel of time #wot #robert jordan #wheel of time spoilers #wot spoilers #perrin aybara #leya #min farshaw #loial #rand al'thor #uno nomesta #masema dagar #ragan

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mikaela-granger · 2 months ago

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The Long Wait (Season 5) Chapter 13

Map of the Seven Knights

Fandom: Grimm

Pairing: Sean Renard/OFC

The Long Wait Masterlist

A/N: The group get their hands on some more keys.

***Lorelei’s POV***

The next morning, Sean and Lorelei checked out of the hotel and went in their separate directions. Sean headed to work, while Lorelei had to get her iron infusion done before heading home. After being hooked up to the IV, Lorelei pulled out her phone and was checking her email when Nick called.

“Hey bro, what’s up?”

“Hey, uh, did you have a good weekend?”

Lorelei nodded. “I did. But I get the feeling you aren’t calling me about that.”

Nick chuckled. “No, you’re right. Uh, I just left Monroe and Rosalee’s. Monroe got a call from his Uncle Felix in Germany about some Grimm books he got his hands on.”

Lorelei raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Yeah. He contacted Monroe because he knew he was friends with a couple of Grimms. Thought we might be interested in buying them.” Nick sounded almost giddy. “He sent through a photo of one, and I gotta tell you. It looks really old. There were wesen in there that even Monroe and Rosalee had never heard of.”

“Do we know how many books? How much he wants for them?”

“No, not yet.” Nick replied. “He’ll get back to us once he’s appraised them or something.”

“Alright. Well, let me know and I’ll see what I can contribute.” Lorelei told him. “Maybe they can replace some of the ones we lost in the fire.”

“Yeah, that’s what Rosalee suggested. Anyway, I better go. I’ll keep you updated.”

As Lorelei ended the call, she felt her inner history nerd getting excited at the prospect of gaining access to some old books. How many hands had those books passed through? What new wesen would they learn about through them?

Less than an hour later, Lorelei was pulling into her driveway, eager to see the kids. Before leaving the hospital, Lorelei had called Adalind who advised her that her and Angela had the kids over at Nick and Adalind’s house. After setting their luggage under the stairs and greeting the pets, Lorelei headed next door.

“Mama, you’re back.” Diana greeted Lorelei as she entered the back door.

“Just in time for lunch.” Angela told her as Diana gave Lorelei a big hug.

“Mama!” Olivia squealed excitedly from the highchair she was perched in.

Lorelei pressed a kiss to the top of Diana’s head before moving over to Olivia and doing the same. “What’s for lunch?” Lorelei asked taking a seat beside Olivia.

“Tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.” Adalind replied, placing bowl of soup and a sandwich in front of Diana.

“Sounds delicious.” Lorelei commented as Angela served up a couple of dishes in front of Olivia.

The women and children ate their lunch, with Lorelei helping Olivia with her soup. Angela asked Lorelei how she was feeling following her iron infusion. “Maybe a little bit of a headache and some nausea, but other than that. I feel ok.” Lorelei answered before finishing up the last of her soup. Thankfully, the nausea wasn’t so bad that she couldn’t eat.

“Perhaps you should go take a nap, make sure that headache doesn’t get any worse.” Angela suggested.

Adalind nodded. “Angela’s right. We’ve got the kids. Go and rest. I imagine you didn’t get a lot this weekend.” She said, waggling her eyebrows.

Lorelei snorted. “I suppose you’re right.” Lorelei said before glancing at the girls. “But I should spend some time with them.”

“They’ll be here when you wake up.” Angela reminded her.

After a short debate, Lorelei eventually conceded. She was tired and the headache had increased in intensity. Stopping in the kitchen to get a bottle of water from the fridge, Lorelei headed upstairs and got changed before curling up in bed. She was out like a light.

***Sean’s POV***

It was late afternoon when Sean had his meeting with Andrew, Jeremiah and Rachel to discuss Andrew’s campaign. “Polls have got a dead heat. If the election were held tomorrow, it could go either way.” Jeremiah explained to them.

Rachel looked at him. “We’ve taken the high road and Galligher hasn’t.” She pointed out as she looked at Andrew. “We have to stop being the nice guy.”

Andrew shrugged. “I’m not trying to be a nice guy. I just don’t want this campaign to be like every other campaign. I don’t want to get elected because I’m the guy they hate the least.”

Jeremiah scoffed. “Pointing out a couple of flaws about your opponent does not make you the bad guy.” Jeremiah told him.

“If you wrestle a pig –.” Andrew started to say.

“You get dirty, and the pig likes it.” Rachel finished. “But George Benard Shaw is not running for the Mayor of Portland.”

“And you don’t wrestle a pig. You take him to slaughter. And you make bacon.” Sean said looking at Andrew.

Rachel leant forward. “How do you suggest we make bacon out of Galligher?”

“Well, first you fatten him up with some youthful indiscretions, and then you slit his throat with a couple of covered-up drug charges.” Sean explained. “And finally, you gut him with gambling debts, some favours paid out to known associates of the mob.”

Andrew had narrowed his eyes and was looking between the other three. A smile had crossed Jeremiah’s face. “Is any of that true?” He asked Sean.

“All of it.” Sean answered. “It was discovered during an undercover operation and then later buried with political favour.”

Andrew sighed. “Look, whether it’s true or not, I still don’t like using it.”

“The public has a right to know who they’re gonna elect.” Rachel told him. “And it wouldn’t come from us; that’s what the press is for.”

When Sean entered his bedroom that evening, he found his wife laying down with a heat pillow resting on her head. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Just this headache that won’t go away.” Lorelei told him. “Apparently, it’s a common side effect of an iron infusion. That and the nausea.”

Sean sat down beside her, “They are also symptoms of preeclampsia.” He reminded her.

Lorelei looked up at him. “The headache isn’t severe. It’s just…there.” Sean pursed his lips and Lorelei grabbed his hand. “How about this? If I still have a headache in the morning, you can drop me off at the ER on your way to work.”

Sean gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’d come in with you.”

“There is no point in both of us being bored. They’d just be doing tests.”

“We’ll talk about it in the morning.” Sean told her, pressing his lips to hand.

The next morning the headache and nausea was still present. Leaving the girls in Angela’s capable hands, Lorelei allowed Sean to drive her to the ER. There was a bit a debate in the car about Sean staying, but eventually he conceded in dropping his wife off and going to work.

***Lorelei’s POV***

Lorelei was grateful she didn’t have to wait too long before being called back in the ER. The nurse was understanding when Lorelei explained the sitation and got Lorelei set up in a bed. After obtaining a urine and blood sample, the nurse sent them off and Lorelei sat waiting in the bed for the results. As she was waiting, she received another call from Nick.

“How are you going? Sean said you weren’t feeling well.”

Lorelei sighed. “It’s just some side effects from the iron infusion. I’m fine, but I agreed to come to the ER for Sean’s piece of mind.” Lorelei explained to him. “Now, have you heard back from Monroe’s Uncle?”

“I did actually. Met him last night.”

“He’s in Portland?”

“Yeah. And he has 20 Grimm books.”

Lorelei let out a whistle. “Wow. How much does he want for them?”

Nick paused. “$100,000.”

“Holy crap, that’s like 5 grand a piece.” Lorelei sighed. “I figured they’d be expensive, but not that expensive.”

“I know. He says we’ve got less than 24 hours to give him an answer.” Nick paused. “I’m waiting to hear back from H.W. regarding whether they can provide any funds. Meisner is seeing what he can do. Apparently Black Claw may be interested in the books.”

“Why?”

“To destroy them. Eve says that Black Claw wants to eradicate all things Grimm including Grimms.” Nick sighed. “I hate to ask, but how much would you be able to put forward.”

“I could do 25 up front, but I’d need some more time to get anymore. Even then, I’d probably still fall short. 75 max.” Lorelei told him.

“Would that completely wipe you out?”

Lorelei shook her head. “Nah. But a lot of my investments or funds are tied up in things I can’t access right away. Like the trust funds I have set up for all the kids, including Kelly.”

“Damn, you are doing pretty well with your investments.”

Lorelei chuckled. “Yeah. I guess so. Anyway, maybe Monroe’s uncle would be happy with some kind of written guaraentee he was going to get his money.”

“Maybe.”

Lorelei looked up as the curtain was pulled open and a doctor stepped in. “I gotta go. Let me know what happens.” She said before ending the call. “Hi. Sorry about that.”

The doctor smiled at her. “It’s not a problem. I’m Dr Rochester by the way. I’ve got the results from your tests. There is no sign of protein in your urine, and although your blood pressure is high, it seems to be in a normal range for you.”

Lorelei let out a sigh of relief. “So, the headache and nausea is probably just a side effect of the iron infusion.”

Dr Rochester nodded. “More than likely. Although considering your history, it’s better to be safe then sorry. I’m sure you know how quickly things can go bad.”

Lorelei smiled. “Indeed, I do. So, I can go home?”

***Nick’s POV***

The day had certainly been eventful, for a lack of better word. However, it had ended up with the trunk of books worth killing over, in their hands. Tragically, Monroe’s Uncle Felix had been one of the people killed by the men tracking the books for Black Claw. After taking care of Black Claw’s men, Nick and Monroe returned to the spice shop, trunk in hand, so to speak. In the basement of the spice shop, Nick, Hank, Wu, Trubel, and Rosalee stood around watching as Monroe picked the lock of the trunk. “Ok. That should do it.” Monroe mumbled under his breath. Setting his lockpick set to the side, he opened the trunk.

“Let’s get them out of there.” Nick told them.

“Gently, gently.” Monroe reminded the group as everyone carefully removed the books from the trunk.

“There a lot more stuff in here than just books.” Trubel said excitedly.

Nick turned around and watched as Monroe and Trubel removed the panels of wood lining the bottom of the trunk. The removal of the false bottom revealed an array of ancient weapons.

“Oh, that’s incredible.” Rosalee commented from beside Nick.

“That is a lot of stuff.” Wu said in awe.

“Looks like we got our trailer back.” Hank added with a smile.

The entire group was in awe of the contents of the trunk, from the books to the weapons. It was an incredible find. Nick couldn’t wait to show Lorelei. She was gonna go nuts. Old books and old weapons, so much history. This was right up her alley. As the others were gathered around the table, Monroe was examining the trunk. “Something about this lock…” He commented quietly. “It’s bigger than it needs to be.”

“I still don’t understand why they would kill people for all this.” Rosalee said as she glanced around at their finds. “It’s only real value is to a Grimm.”

“Black Claw is trying to destroy everything that has to do with Grimms.” Trubel informed her.

Hank looked up from the book he had. “Hey. Look at this one. It’s not like the others. It’s like some kind of family tree, book of ancestory.” He explained as the others came to look at the book over his shoulder.

“That’s not a – a regular family tree.” Rosalee pointed out. “It’s only following a few individuals from generation to generation.”

“And some of them just dead-end.” Trubel noted.

Nick looked at Monroe. “What’s the name of the guy your Uncle got the books from?”

Monroe looked up from where he was looking at the trunks lock as Trubel answered “Uh, Joseph Nebojsa.”

Nick pointed to the surname at the top of the page they were looking at. “It’s the same last name.” Nick pointed out. “Uh, go to the end.” He told Hank, who carefully flipped a page out. “There he is. Joseph Nebojsa.”

“Oh my god.” Wu uttered. “There all Grimms.”

“That’s why this is worth killing for.” Rosalee told them. “Everyone in this book is a Grimm.”

“See if Burkhardt’s in there.” Monroe commented from his position by the trunk.

Nick shook his head. “No, uh, it’d be under my mother’s maiden name. Kessler.” Nick told Hank.

“Hey, I think I just…saw a Kessler.” Hank said, flipping through the pages. “Here.” He opened up another page. “Is Walter your grandfather?”

“Yeah.” Nick said looking at the page. “And there’s Aunt Marie, there’s my mom, there’s me, and there’s Lorelei.”

Trubel straightened up. “But if you’re in here, maybe I am too.”

“Nebojsa was keeping this book up to date.” Rosalee pointed out.

“This would be real dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands.” Hank said quietly.

Monroe spoke up from behind them. “We’ve got ourselves a secret compartment.” He informed them as he picked something up. “It’s probably just an extra trunk key.” He said, slowly wrapping the cloth. Nick watched as Monroe’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “Nick. You gotta see this.” Monroe said in a hushed whisper as he stood up and walked over to the table, holding out his fine.

Rosalee rushed over to him. “Oh, my god, another key.”

Nick carefully took it from Monroe, looking at it in amazement. His eyes widened even more as Monroe placed the cloth on the table, revealing there was more than one. “Three of them.” Nick said, looking up at the others. The looks of amazement on their face reflected his own. Nick looked at Rosalee. “Go get the other two keys from upstairs.”

“I’ll bring those.” She said, turning around and running upstairs.

Nick picked up one of the other keys, looking at them closely. Trubel helped him to line them up. Once Rosalee had returned with the other keys, they used the keys to create the map. “It doesn’t all fit together.” Trubel commented, as they compared the map the keys created with an older map and a current map.

“No, we’re still missing two keys.” Nick reminded her.

“But maybe we have enough to figure out where it is.” Rosalee suggested.

“Wait a minute.” Monroe said slowly. He pointed to a spot on the older map. “These three hills here with the two rivers on either side connecting to the bigger river here, that’s an exact match for what the keys are saying.” Monroe looked at Nick. “And it’s in the Schwarzwald.”

“The Black Forest.” Nick confirmed.

Monroe nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I know these maps aren’t as accurate as like, modern day topographical maps, but this terrain.” He said, picking the image created using the keys. “Is a pretty good match for this terrain.” He pointed to the older map. “Which is outside of Wolfach, which is…right here.” He pointed to the modern-day map.

“So, we can figure out where they buried whatever it is they buried.” Nick stated.

“Exactly.” Wu said before pausing for a moment. “Well, not exactly, unless you have the classic ‘X marks the spot.’”

Monroe looked at Nick excitedly as he removed his glasses. “But, dude, we got it. And it’s right here. In the Black Forest.”

Nick nodded. “I’m going to the Black Forest.”

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