#bury me with my program thank you

[arealphantommenace]

Jon Robyns and Eve Shanu-Wilson signed my program when I saw Phantom this week. I can die happy now.

Robyn’s Phantom was amazing. Beautiful voice and so much emotion into the character, as well as being completely unhinged.

Shanu-Wilson had a beautiful singing voice as well, gave me chills as soon as she started singing. She doesn’t get to perform as Christine much, so her performance this week was even more impressive. I would never have known she wasn’t the main if I didn’t know who the cast was. She was also very sweet and friendly when we met her after the show.

Matt Blaker as Raoul was great too. I’m always team phantom, but his portrayal of Raoul and their relationship was so adorable it was impossible to not love him. Me and who, really?

Entire cast ate and left no crumbs.

[pucksandpower]

Used to be Mine

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Arthur Leclerc x ex!Reader

Summary: Oscar stole everything from Arthur … his hopes, his dreams, his family name, and you

Arthur slumps in the hard chair across from Jock Clear’s desk, the Ferrari Driver Academy director’s words echoing in his mind. “I’m very sorry Arthur, but we’ve decided not to renew your contract for next season. You’ll be released from the program at the end of this year.”

Arthur feels like he’s been punched in the gut. This can’t be happening. He’s poured his heart and soul into racing for Ferrari’s junior program for years. His dream has always been to follow in his older brother Charles’ footsteps and race for the Scuderia in Formula 1.

“But … why?” Arthur manages to choke out. “I know my results this season haven’t been that great but fifteenth in the F2 standings-”

Clear shakes his head solemnly. “Your pace and racecraft simply haven’t developed at the rate we need to see to justify keeping you in the program, Arthur. I know how hard you’ve worked, but there are other young talents coming up behind you showing greater potential.”

The word “potential” hits Arthur like a dagger. Ever since he was a kid, that’s what he’s heard over and over — unfavorable comparisons to Charles’ unlimited potential. He always knew his big brother was special behind the wheel, but he’d clung to the hope that he could make it to F1 through sheer hard work and determination if not raw talent.

Clearly that hope was misguided. Arthur feels the sting of failure wash over him.

“I … I understand,” he forces out, struggling not to break down in tears right there. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

He stands up shakily, the room spinning. He needs to get out of here.

The drive back to his family’s home in Monaco is a blur. Arthur’s mind races, years of sacrifice and struggle swirling in his head. Endless days and nights on the simulator. Grueling hours in the gym, pushing his body to its limits. Tormenting himself over endless data traces, looking for even a tenth of a second to gain an edge.

All for nothing. The harsh truth is he’ll never be good enough. No matter how hard he tries, the Leclerc name will always belong to Charles. Arthur will be forever known as his little brother, the one who couldn’t quite cut it.

He slams his fist against the steering wheel, angry tears now streaming down his face. Why did he ever think he could do this? Why didn’t he just pursue something, anything else with his life? He’s wasted years chasing an impossible dream, and now he has nothing to show for it.

His phone rings, almost slipping out of his trembling hands before he can answer. It’s you.

“Y/N ...” Arthur chokes out, trying and failing to hold back his sobs.

“Arthur? Oh my god, what’s wrong?” You ask, panic in your voice even through the tinny speaker. Of course you can sense something is desperately wrong. You’ve always been there for him, the one person who truly understands what he’s been going through.

Arthur can barely get the words out between ragged breaths. “The … the FDA ... they’re releasing me ... it’s over ...”

There’s stunned silence on the other end of the line.

“Arthur, I ...” You trail off, at an uncharacteristic loss for words. You know how much this has meant to him. How much of himself he’s given to this endeavor. “I’m coming over right now, okay? Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

You hang up before Arthur can respond. He’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not. Part of him wants to wallow in despair alone. But mostly he’s grateful you’re coming. He’s not sure he can handle this by himself right now.

Sure enough, you burst through the front door only a few minutes later. Arthur has collapsed on the couch, head in his hands as the tears continue to flow.

“Oh Arthur ...” You sit down beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into an embrace. He turns and buries his face in your shoulder, no longer trying to hold anything back as ragged sobs wrack his body.

You just hold him, making soft hushing sounds and stroking his hair. You’ve seen him distraught before — after tough losses or crashes. But never quite like this. This is the cry of someone whose dreams have been shattered.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Arthur’s sobs begin to subside into hitching breaths. You grab a tissue box from the end table and hand it to him.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, blowing his nose loudly. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just … I don’t know what to do. What am I going to do now?”

You take his hand and give it a squeeze. “First, you’re going to breathe. This isn’t the end of the world, I promise. We’ll get through this.”

Arthur lets out a shaky exhale, trying to calm himself. You always have been the level-headed one. He leans back against the couch cushions, keeping your hand grasped tightly in his.

“I really thought I could make it, you know?” He says quietly. “I’ve given everything to this stupid dream ever since I was a kid. But I’ll never be good enough, will I? Not like Charles.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Arthur barrels on, unable to contain years of self-doubt and insecurity any longer.

“Don’t try to argue. We both know it’s true. Charles was always the special one. The one with the generational talent. I was just … there. Doing my best to keep up, but always a step behind no matter how hard I worked.”

You shake your head vehemently. “Arthur, that’s not true at all. You’re an incredible driver. Your work ethic and determination are-”

“Meaningless without the talent,” Arthur interrupts bitterly. “That’s all that matters in the end. And I don’t have it, not like Charles does. I’m just … normal. Ordinary. That’s why Ferrari has moved on.”

You move closer, taking Arthur’s face in your hands so he has to look you in the eye. “You listen to me, Arthur Leclerc. You are anything but ordinary, understand? You’ve accomplished more by the age of 23 than most people could dream of in their entire lives. Making it all the way to F2 and the Ferrari Driver Academy is incredible, no matter what happens next.”

Arthur tries to turn away, but you keep his gaze locked, your voice rising in intensity. “If you were ordinary, you wouldn’t have been able to push yourself so hard for so long. Ordinary people would have given up a long time ago. It’s your extraordinary drive and passion that have taken you this far.”

Tears are welling up in your eyes now. You can’t stand to see him diminishing himself like this.

“Besides,” you add, managing a small smile. “I may be biased, but I’ve always thought you were the most extraordinarily kind, caring, and hilarious person I know. That’s a kind of specialness in itself, you know.”

Arthur lets out a choked laugh, wiping at his eyes again. Leave it to you to know just what to say to raise his spirits, even a little. “You always have been weirdly good at these pep talks.”

“Well, someone has to keep your head from getting too big,” you quip back with a grin.

Arthur mock-gasps in feigned offense. “Why, you little ...”

He lunges at you, starting to mercilessly tickle your sides. You squeal with laughter, trying in vain to fight back as you quickly devolve into a giggling, flailing mess of limbs.

You’ve been reduced to teary hiccups when Arthur finally relents, allowing you both to catch your breath. He throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

“You’re the best,” he murmurs softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You rest your head against his shoulder contentedly. “Let’s just take things one day at a time for now, okay? We’ll figure out what’s next together, like we always have.”

Arthur nods, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and love for his girlfriend. No matter what curveballs life has thrown your way, you’ve always supported and uplifted each other. He knows that won’t change, even if his racing dreams don’t pan out.

“Together,” he echoes, giving your hand one more tight squeeze. Whatever the future holds, he can get through it with you by his side.

Maybe his path won’t lead to Formula 1 after all. Arthur feels a pang of sadness and disappointment at that realization. But as long as he has his family — has you — to lean on, he knows he’ll be okay. That love and support is what has always truly mattered most, not chasing some impossible dream.

“You know, we should see if Charles wants to come over later,” Arthur says, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I haven’t roasted his abysmal fashion sense in way too long.”

You burst out laughing at that. Only Arthur could find his way back to laughing and joking so soon after having his world turned upside down. It’s just one of the many things you admire about him.

“Oh my god, yes please,” you reply once you’ve caught your breath. “His outfit at the last race was literally a crime against humanity. Someone needs to intervene before he traumatizes us all again.”

The two of you spend the next little while cheerfully trading escalating insults about his big brother’s admittedly questionable clothing choices. The mood has lightened considerably, at least for now.

Arthur knows the sting of his failure will return, the questions about what he should do next weighing heavily. But you’ll be there for those hard moments too, just like always. As long as he has you — his best friend, his other half — he can face any challenge life throws his way.

The uncertain road ahead is daunting. But Arthur meets it with determination burning in his eyes. If he couldn’t make it as a Formula 1 driver, he’ll simply have to find a new dream to chase. A new mountain to climb. Whatever it is, he knows you’ll be alongside him every step of the way.

***

Six Months Later

The roar of the engines fades as the cars return to the pits after qualifying. Arthur can’t tear his eyes away from the timing screens:

1. C. LECLERC

2. O. PIASTRI

A Leclerc front row lockout at their home race. Except one of them isn’t really a Leclerc at all.

“Nice one, Piastri-Leclerc!” One of the McLaren mechanics calls out as Oscar climbs from his car.

Arthur’s gut twists.

Oscar just grins and plays along. “Thanks, it’s all in the family name!”

A few of the Ferrari mechanics chuckle at that as Charles emerges from his own car, beaming. He pulls Oscar into a hug. “A Leclerc one-two in Monaco, who would have thought?”

“There’s just something about being a local,” Oscar laughs. “Thank you for giving me yet another home race.”

You appear then, throwing your arms around Oscar with a squeal. “My two favorite Leclercssss!”

Arthur has to look away, his face burning. He knows he has no right to be jealous. Oscar is one of his best friends. And you … you made your choice a long time ago.

“Arthur?” Fred Vasseur appears at his side. “You okay?”

Arthur forces a smile. “Yeah, all good. Just … focused.”

“No need to be so tense,” Fred squeezes his shoulder. “You did a great job in the sim this week. That data helped Charles and Carlos a ton.”

“Glad I could help,” Arthur says automatically.

But his gaze is drawn back to where you’re still hugging Oscar tightly. You look so happy, so carefree. It wasn’t that long ago that your smiles were for him.

“You know,” Fred says conversationally. “I’m getting a lot of questions about what you’ll decide to do next. Every time you’re in that sim or out on track-”

“I’m fine being test driver,” Arthur interrupts, maybe a little too brusque. “Really, I am.”

Fred studies him for a beat. “If you’re sure. Just saying, the doors are opening ...”

The team principal moves off then, leaving Arthur alone with his swirling emotions. He can’t get swept up in maybes about his future. Not when his past is standing right there, laughing at some joke Oscar made.

You’d think after all this time, the sight of you wouldn’t affect him so much. You broke his heart so thoroughly when you ended things, he didn’t think there were any pieces left to shatter. But here he is, a mess of jealousy and longing, just because you gave Oscar a hug.

“Arthur! There you are!”

He turns at the sound of your voice. You’re hurrying towards him, Oscar and Charles trailing behind with indulgent smiles.

“We’re going to get some dinner if you want to join?” You ask brightly.

He has to swallow hard before he can speak past the lump in his throat. “I … don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Of course it is!” You grab his arm, utterly oblivious to his discomfort. “We’re all friends here, right?”

“Some of you were a bit more than friends once upon a time,” Charles points out with a wicked grin.

You shove him playfully. “Oh shut up!”

Arthur feels like he’s being stabbed in the heart. Your break up turned his life upside down. Hearing you joke about it so casually now is excruciating.

“Seriously, Arthur,” Oscar cuts in. “Come celebrate with us. We promise not to get too crazy.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Arthur tries again, harsher this time.

You frown, tilting your head in confusion. “Why not? I thought we were all past the whole ex thing?”

“I am,” he lies through gritted teeth. “I just … have some stuff to work on for the race tomorrow.”

“Oh come on,” you wheedle, giving him that smile that used to make him melt. “Take a break! Live a little!”

Arthur can’t take much more of this. He needs to get out of here before he says something he’ll regret. Or worse, does something stupid like pull you into his arms and kiss you senseless.

“Seriously you guys, I’ve got work,” he says, forcing himself to take a step back from you. “I’ll … catch up with you later, okay?”

He doesn’t wait for a response, just turns on his heel and stalks away. He can’t bear to see the hurt, confused look on your face.

Why did he think this would be okay? That he could spend day after day around you and it wouldn’t still hurt? Every smile, every laugh, every touch you bestow on Charles and Oscar is like a white hot poker in his chest.

He thought he was over you. He really did. It’s been months since you ended things, months since you shattered what was left of his heart into a million pieces.

He’d been so shocked, so heartbroken, that all he could do was sit there numbly as you walked out of his apartment. When he finally found his voice, hours had passed, and you were long gone.

“But I love you,” he’d whispered into the empty room.

He’d been so sure you felt the same. That what you had was forever. But you made your choice, as simple as that. Arthur never came first.

And now, half a year later, here he is. Living out some twisted version of his dream … but only just. A test driver for Ferrari instead of a race driver like he always imagined. Like Charles, who had achieved everything they both wanted.

Arthur leans back against the wall of the cool, dark room he’s found himself in. It feels like the pain of your rejection is never going to stop haunting him. Like no matter how much time passes, it will never be enough to make up for losing you.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying and failing to block out the memory of your face, your smile, your laugh. All the moments of pure joy you two had shared. The dreams you’d whispered to each other late at night, tangled in the sheets.

Is this his lot in life from now on? To watch you move on, all smiles and teasing jokes with Oscar and Charles? To see everyone welcoming Oscar into the family while Arthur is shut out in the cold?

He’s startled from his spiraling thoughts by a knock at the door. “Arthur? You in there?”

It’s Charles. Arthur flinches, swiping a hand over his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he calls back, grateful that his voice doesn’t shake.

There’s a pause. “Can I come in?”

Arthur considers sending his brother away. He’s in no state for a heart-to-heart right now.

But he can’t bring himself to refuse Charles. Not when they’ve been through so much together, from the karting tracks of their childhood to the highest levels of motorsport.

“Yeah, okay.”

The door opens and Charles slips inside. He stops short when he sees Arthur, brow furrowing in concern.

“Hey … you okay?”

Arthur can’t even find it in himself to fake it. He just shakes his head mutely.

“Is this about Y/N?” Charles asks gently.

And just like that, the dam breaks. Arthur squeezes his eyes shut again, but he can’t stop the tears from spilling over.

“I thought I was over her. I really did,” he chokes out. “But seeing her with Oscar … celebrating like that ...”

Strong arms wrap around him then, pulling him into a hug. Arthur goes boneless, sagging against his older brother as the sobs take over.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Charles murmurs. “Let it out.”

Arthur does. He cries and cries, shoulders shaking, as months of pent-up heartache pour out of him. Charles just holds him through it, rubbing soothing circles across his back.

“I’m s-sorry,” Arthur finally gasps out. “I’m being so stupid ...”

“You’re not stupid,” Charles says firmly. “Love isn’t stupid, Arthur. Especially your first real heartbreak. That shit hurts like hell.”

Arthur lets out a watery chuckle, finally pulling back and swiping at his eyes. “How do you always know exactly what to say?”

“Well, I am the wise older brother,” Charles grins. Then he sobers, studying Arthur carefully. “Seriously though … you know Y/N loved you, right? What you two had was real.”

“I know.” Arthur shakes his head. “Doesn’t make it any easier seeing her move on so quickly.”

“She’s not over you either,” Charles says gently. “That’s why she keeps trying so hard to act like everything is normal between you two.”

Arthur scoffs. “Could’ve fooled me with all the cuddling up to Oscar out there.”

“Oh come on, you know that’s just a joke,” Charles says with a roll of his eyes. “Oscar is like family to us, same as you. That’s all it is.”

“Yeah? Well it didn’t look that way to me.”

“Arthur ...” Charles puts a hand on his shoulder. “I think you need to have an actual conversation with Y/N. Clear the air once and for all. This lingering stuff is only going to keep eating you up inside.”

“What if she really has moved on?” The thought is like a vise around Arthur’s heart. “What if she tells me she’s dating Oscar for real or something?”

“Then at least you’ll know,” Charles says simply. “It will hurt, yeah. But not knowing, constantly wondering … that’s so much worse. Trust me.”

Arthur is quiet for a long moment, turning Charles’ words over in his mind. Maybe his brother is right. Maybe it’s time to rip off the bandaid once and for all.

He nods slowly. “Okay. I’ll ... I’ll talk to her.”

“Good.” Charles pulls him in for another hug. “No matter what happens, you’ve got me, okay? We Leclercs need to stick together.”

Arthur manages a small smile at that, feeling just a bit lighter. “Yeah. We do.”

As he follows Charles out of the room, he catches sight of you across the paddock, laughing at something Oscar said. A familiar ache blooms in his chest.

But this time, he doesn’t run from it. This time, he’s going to face it head on. His heart may end up in even more pieces … or maybe, just maybe, it will finally start to mend.

Either way, at least he’ll know. No more lingering what ifs. Just the truth, whatever it may be.

He takes a deep, steadying breath, then starts making his way towards you.

***

Arthur’s steps falter as he rounds the corner of the McLaren garage. There you are with Oscar, bodies intertwined, lips locked in a heated kiss.

It feels like all the air has been sucked from Arthur’s lungs. He can’t breathe, can’t think. He just … freezes, rooted to the spot, watching in numb horror as the two of you make out shamelessly right there in the open.

This can’t be happening. It has to be some kind of twisted nightmare. But no matter how hard he blinks, the scene before him doesn’t change.

You and Oscar are really kissing. Properly sucking face like loved-up teenagers, hands roaming over each other greedily. Oscar has you backed up against the garage wall, bodies pressed flush together from chest to thigh.

Arthur feels like he’s going to be sick.

Finally, mercifully, you two break apart, foreheads pressed together as you both gasp for air. Arthur should look away, he knows he should, but he can’t seem to make himself move.

“So much for keeping it professional in the paddock, huh?” You murmur, voice husky.

Oscar lets out a breathless chuckle. “Who cares about professional? Not when I’ve got you all to myself for once.”

He leans in to kiss you again, but you put a hand on his chest, stopping him. “We should find somewhere more private if we’re gonna keep this up.”

“My driver’s room?” Oscar suggests, already palming at the small of your back.

You shiver, pushing up onto your tiptoes to brush your lips against his jaw. “Lead the way, Piastri-Leclerc.”

And just like that, you’re gone, disappearing into the depths of the McLaren garage, hands roaming and giggling like lovesick fools. Arthur watches until the door swings shut behind you, cutting off that haunting sound of your laughter.

Then he’s moving without conscious thought, staggering back around the corner and out of sight. His back hits the cool concrete wall with a thud, but he barely notices. Barely notices anything except the ragged, gasping breaths being torn from his lungs.

He doubles over, hands braced on his knees as he struggles not to vomit right there in the paddock. It feels like someone has driven a white hot poker straight through his chest. Like his heart is being crushed into a million pieces all over again.

Oscar and you … together? Actually dating? How … how could you do this to him? To yourself? Everything you two had built together, every future dream you had shared … tossed aside so easily?

Tears burn at the corners of Arthur’s eyes. He wants to scream, to punch a wall, to unleash the searing agony and fury ripping through him. But he can’t make a sound, throat locked up tight with unshed emotion.

He should have known, really. Should have seen this coming. It’s not like you and Oscar were hiding your connection. The loving looks, the inside jokes, that easy intimacy and affection … Arthur had just been too blinded by jealousy and heartbreak to see it.

But to find out like this? To literally walk in on you two wrapped around each other? It’s a whole new level of pain, lancing through him over and over. He’s always imagined that you would have the decency to at least tell him first if you moved on with someone new.

Unless this has been going on for a while already, hidden from him in plain sight. Every laugh, every hug, every teasing comment … was that all a lie to cover up your dirty secret with Oscar?

Arthur’s stomach churns violently again at the thought. He swallows hard, fighting back the nausea. He can’t lose it here, can’t draw any attention to himself. He needs to get it together, block out the image of you and Oscar swapping spit.

Easier said than done when his brain keeps unhelpfully replaying the way Oscar’s hands were roaming over you, groping at you like you belonged to him. And that laugh … god, that beautiful, carefree laughter that Arthur would know anywhere. A sound that used to make his heart soar whenever it was aimed at him.

Now it’s like a knife in his gut to hear you giggling that way with Oscar, no doubt blissed out after a hot and heavy make out session. Arthur’s jaw tightens, a muscle ticking furiously. He would give anything not to have walked in on that, not to have that sound burnt into his brain forever.

At least now he knows the truth. The humiliating, gut-wrenching truth that you’ve well and truly moved on from him. And with Oscar of all people, like the ultimate slap in the face.

What kind of cruel joke is this? Arthur wonders, still fighting to steady his ragged breaths. He loses the girl he wanted to spend forever with … only to have one of his mates swoop in and take her from him?

It’s not just you that Oscar has stolen either, Arthur realizes with a sickening jolt. It’s everything. With you on his arm, Oscar is welcomed into the family, called a Leclerc at their home race. Arthur’s own last name, treated like some kind of lighthearted joke while the real thing is ripped away from him.

Oscar even gets Monaco as a home race, just like the actual Leclercs who grew up here. All because of some dumb joke about Charles adopting him. Arthur had laughed along with it at the time, never imagining the underhanded truth.

Oscar Piastri has wormed his way into having everything Arthur wanted more than anything. The career, the family, the girl … all of it, just handed to him on a silver platter.

White hot fury flares in Arthur’s chest, momentarily burning through the heartbreak. How dare Oscar do this to him? How dare he make a mockery out of Arthur’s dreams, out of everything the name Leclerc stands for?

Arthur barely registers that he’s moving until his fist connects with the concrete wall with a sickening crunch. He lashes out again and again, pummeling the unforgiving surface over and over until-

“Arthur! Hey, whoa!”

Suddenly there are hands on him, strong and insistent. Arthur starts, accidentally slamming his abused knuckles into a firm chest as Charles appears, grabbing hold of his shoulders.

“Easy, easy! What the hell are you doing?” Charles meets his gaze, eyes wide with concern.

Arthur blinks dazedly, pain finally registering from his torn up, bleeding knuckles. “I … I didn’t ...”

“What happened?” Charles presses, lowering his voice when Arthur winces. “Did you get into it with someone? Talk to me, please.”

Arthur opens his mouth, fully intending to tell Charles everything. About walking in on your incriminating embrace with Oscar. About the way it felt like his entire world shattered all over again. How Oscar has stolen every single thing that should have been Arthur’s by birthright.

But when he tries to vocalize the words, to unleash the storm of emotions battering him from the inside out … nothing comes out. His throat remains locked up tight, breath wheezing harshly.

Charles is watching him, eyebrows knitted with worry. “You’re really freaking me out here. What’s going on?”

Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head helplessly. He feels like he’s drowning, lost in a whirlpool of jealousy and despair that’s slowly suffocating him.

When he opens his eyes again, Charles is still waiting, patient and steady as always. Something in his brother’s calm, anchoring presence helps Arthur regain just a little bit of control. Enough to grit out a few words.

“Oscar. And Y/N.”

That’s all he can manage. But judging by the dawning comprehension on Charles’ face, it’s enough. The older Leclerc lets out a slow breath, gaze turning sympathetic.

“You saw them together,” he says, not a question.

Arthur nods jerkily, jaw locked.

For a long moment, Charles is silent. Taking it all in, no doubt. Then … “I’m so sorry, Arthur.”

Arthur’s breath hitches harshly before he can stop it.

“Hey, hey.” Charles pulls him into a tight hug, tucking Arthur’s head under his chin. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ve got you, little brother.”

Arthur stiffens for just a second before melting into the embrace, squeezing his eyes shut once more. He takes a shuddery breath against Charles’ shirt, then another, just trying to hold himself together.

“I’m here,” Charles murmurs, rubbing his back soothingly. “We’ll get through this together, yeah?”

Arthur doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nods against Charles’ shoulder. He clings to his brother like a lifeline, grateful beyond words that Charles is here to anchor him when it feels like his world is crumbling all over again.

He has no idea how long they stay like that, locked in that tight embrace. Long enough for the sharp edges of Arthur’s anguish to dull, at least a little. Long enough for his ragged breaths to even out into something closer to normal.

Finally, Charles gives him one last squeeze before gently pulling back, keeping a firm grip on Arthur’s shoulders.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, eyeing Arthur’s bloodied knuckles with a wince.

Arthur follows his gaze, grimacing at the sight. “Shit, I ...”

“It’s okay,” Charles says quickly, sliding an arm around Arthur’s back. “I’ve got you.”

He guides Arthur through the paddock, shielding him from view with his body. Arthur is grateful for the discretion — the last thing he needs right now is prying eyes and questions about his meltdown.

They make it back to the cool shadows of the Ferrari motorhome without incident. Charles sweeps them into one of the private rooms, locking the door securely behind them.

“There, just us,” he says, squeezing Arthur’s arm reassuringly. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me what happened?”

Arthur sinks down onto the worn sofa, feeling numb and drained. He stares at his mangled hands as Charles darts away, returning a moment later with a first aid kit and a damp cloth.

“This might sting,” Charles warns, taking Arthur’s hands with surprising gentleness.

Arthur barely flinches as his brother starts cleaning away the blood and grit from his torn skin. He’s retreated deep inside his own head, memories from that hellish scene on an endless loop.

You and Oscar, tangled together so intimately. The way you looked at each other, breathless with desire. The easy intimacy and obvious hunger in every heated caress.

Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, but it does nothing to block it out. He’s never going to be able to unsee that, he realizes with a sick lurch. It’s seared into his brain forever, a brand new source of unrelenting torment.

“Arthur?” Charles’ soft voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts. “What happened? Talk to me.”

Arthur blows out a shaky breath, forcing himself to meet his brother’s concerned gaze.

“I went to find Y/N,” he starts in a dull rasp. “To … to get some closure, I guess. Finally rip off the bandaid like you said.”

Charles nods in understanding, staying quiet to let Arthur continue at his own pace.

“But when I turned the corner of the McLaren garage ...” Arthur’s throat works convulsively, the memory surging back in vivid technicolor. “They were there. Making out like a couple of horny teenagers.”

He falls silent again, the words cutting off as a wave of fresh agony washes over him. God, the visual is never going to stop haunting him, is it?

“Oh, Arthur ...” Charles murmurs, squeezing his hands gently. “I’m so sorry.”

Arthur lets out a bitter huff. “Sorry? Don’t be sorry for me, Charles. Be sorry for yourself.”

Charles frowns in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Oscar,” Arthur grits out, white-hot anger flaring once more. “He stole her from me, sure. But he also stole our name. He gets to be a Leclerc now, a mockery of our home streets. Just because you stupidly joked about adopting him.”

He surges to his feet, unable to stay still with all this wrath and hurt burning through him.

“Everything that was supposed to be mine, Charles!” He shouts, prowling the room like a caged animal. “The career, the family, the girl … Oscar has taken it all! With a few laughs and some dumb jokes!”

“Arthur, that’s not fair ...” Charles tries, but Arthur barrels right over him.

“No? Well how about this — let’s see how funny those jokes are when Oscar decides he actually wants to be Charles Leclerc!” Arthur snarls. “He’ll take your career next, you watch! Take away everything that makes you special, everything that’s yours by right!”

“Arthur.” Charles is on his feet now, reaching out to grip Arthur’s shoulders firmly. “Listen to me. You need to calm down, okay? Oscar isn’t trying to take anything from us. He’s our friend!”

“How can you say that?” Arthur demands, anguish cracking through the rage. “Don’t you see what he’s done? What he’s taking from me?”

He’s breathing hard now, vision swimming as tears of mingled fury and heartbreak prick at his eyes.

“That was supposed to be my future, Charles,” he rasps. “Y/N and I … we had plans. Dreams of a life together.”

Arthur swipes angrily at the tear that escapes, blurring his vision. “Oscar doesn’t get to take that from me. He doesn’t get to make it all a mocking joke.”

“Arthur ...” Charles looks stricken now, shaking his head slowly. He pulls Arthur into another fierce hug, tucking the younger man’s head under his chin.

“I’m so sorry,” Charles murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry he hurt you like this. You don’t deserve that … any of it.”

Arthur lets out a choked sob against his brother’s shirt, all of the fight abruptly draining from him. He’s just … tired. Wrung out and hollow, aching down to his very core.

“This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, Charles,” he whispers brokenly. “Oscar was my friend … how could he do this to me?”

Charles doesn’t seem to have any answers. He just holds Arthur tighter, rocking them gently from side to side as Arthur finally gives in to his emotions. He buries his face in Charles’ shoulder and weeps — for his shattered dreams, his shredded heart, and a future that now feels impossibly out of reach.

As the sobs gradually subside, a final bitter thought takes root in Arthur’s mind. If Oscar is going to steal away the girl Arthur loves, the family he was born into, and the future he had mapped out for himself ... then Arthur hopes to god the Monaco curse falls on Oscar just as harshly as it ever has for a Leclerc.

Maybe then Oscar will finally understand just how much he’s taken from Arthur. How many dreams and pieces of Arthur's very identity he’s carelessly crushed in his quest to make himself a Leclerc on everything but paper.

Arthur’s tears have dried, leaving his cheeks chafed and eyes swollen. But the hollow ache in his chest remains, throbbing in time with his ragged breaths. He stays huddled against Charles, taking what little solace he can from his brother’s presence.

It’s all he has left now. Oscar has snatched away everything else that ever mattered to Arthur. His future, his past, his home ... all of it, gone in a spiral of heated kisses and breathless laughter.

If the cost of having it all is the Monaco curse bearing down on him, then so be it. Arthur finds himself almost hoping Oscar gets everything he so greedily took, the consequences be damned. Maybe then, just maybe, he’ll finally understand an ounce of the anguish and heartbreak he’s inflicted on Arthur.

It’s a dark, vindictive thought, one that makes Arthur's gut twist with shame. But he’d too drained, too devastated to truly care. He just presses closer to Charles, craving the simple comfort of family as reality crushes him from all sides.

His dreams, his heart, his identity ... all stolen by a former friend turned ultimate betrayer. If the Monaco curse is all Arthur has left to cling to, then so be it.

[satanghulu]

Thnks fr th Mmrs

✦ PAIRING: barbatos & reader (no romantic relationship but you can read it as such) ✦ SUMMARY: A collection of photos throughout his life. ✦ WARNING: FLUFF!! Tooth-rotting fluff to be exact; one use of MC instead of Y/N ✦ WC: 1.8K ✦ tagging my fav barbatos stan @romcomeon huehue, hope u enjoy it!! also huge thanks to lupe & kelo who had to sit thru my rambling while i talked abt this fic 🧍‍♂️

| MASTERLIST

══════════════════

For a demon who has been there since the beginning of time, Barbatos has never seen the need to be captured in history – he is not the kind of person who has photos of himself in his D.D.D. He doesn’t see the need to. His gallery is filled with pictures of paperwork, the young master in all sorts of situations, sometimes Lucifer makes an appearance along with the other demon brothers. But regardless, there are hardly any photos of himself.

That is until the exchange program happened.

Lately, his gallery seems to be filling up – he has been taking pictures of his baked goods with Luke smiling proudly in the background, (he keeps this photo close to his heart. In a way, this reminds him of the young demon prince.) and he even has pictures with the other angels when there are events organised in the Demon Lord Castle. 

Luke sends him pictures of himself – he saves all of them into a folder on his D.D.D. and sometimes, he pulls them out if he needs a pick-me-up. But most of all, his gallery has been recently populated with pictures of you. Of course, the Demon Prince would be the first in terms of photos in his gallery but following close behind, he has amassed a collection of you.

They’re not even anything special. They are just photos that you have sent over during conversations with him. He categorises them into folders – there is a collection of your selfies, food photos that you send over, photos that reminds him of you, and another one of your daily life.

Maybe it’s the age catching up with him, but he thinks he is becoming softer.

Lucifer tells him so as well.

(“You’ve been smiling at your phone more often nowadays.” Lucifer says. The conversation was unexpected, coming out of nowhere as the two of them were buried deep in paperwork in the Student Council Room.

Barbatos nods, hands paused mid-air in the middle of checking his notifications. 

“Luke sent me photos of Simeon, MC, and him going on a picnic.” He replies instead. His hands were busy moving to place the D.D.D. back into his pockets. To be exact, both Luke and you had sent him photos but saying it in front of Lucifer felt like losing, an uncertain feeling in his stomach.

Lucifer stopped and looked up from his document, tired eyes wide open in surprise.

“I see.” He says after a moment of silence, turning back to his stack of paperwork. The grating noise of pen scratching paper fills the air again.

 “This expression is a good look on you.”  

Barbatos blinks in surprise, mulling the sentence over in his head.)

.

He has a recent new favourite – it’s a photo of the young master, you, and him in a selfie together. It was taken after an expedition to the human world with you being their guide. (There was honestly no reason for you to be the guide but both the young master and him insisted on your help.)

You’re in the middle, face squished in between his and the young master’s. The three of you are wearing accessories; a huge bow headband in matching colours, squeezed into the small photo booth. The demon prince and you had given him puppy eyes to convince him to wear the headbands and it didn’t take much for him to give in.

You’re also holding a huge teddy bear plushie, bestowed by the young demon prince who had wanted to repay you for your time. The maroon teddy bear had taken up most of the space in the photo and is blocking half of your face, but the genuine happy expression on your face is clear as day. 

The picture was adorned with silly doodles, courtesy of both the young prince and you. He places the picture behind his D.D.D – no one knows it’s there, he uses a simple black cover that Luke had gotten him when the little angel had realised he hadn’t changed his case in decades.

The young master has it proudly framed in the office and Lucifer’s eyebrow twitches a little every time he comes into the room. Barbatos finds it funny, really. But he doesn’t comment on it for the sake of the ever-growing stack of paperwork.

.

The young prince was currently on an excursion with the Avatar of Pride and hadn’t wanted him to tag along. Thus, Barbatos had busied himself with assigning the Little D’s chores and re-training them on the basics. Really, he hasn’t been taking care of them much lately and their skills had deteriorated. It seemed that he would need to be stricter in his future training.

From the corner of his eyes, his D.D.D flashes with a notification. He slowly took his time to walk across the room to check on the message. (The Little D’s would beg to differ. They would say that a gust of wind almost sent them flying when Barbatos got up to check on the notification.)

Surprisingly, it was a message from you and not Lord Diavolo. 

.

[02:14PM] You: barbatos, would u be free right abt now? could you stop by HOL? i need ur help with something :<

[02:20PM] Barbatos: I am free right now, thankfully. I’ll head over to the HOL in a minute. 

He’s curious as to what is the issue. It is a given that you have become independent due to the harsh settings of the Devildom and it’s almost unheard of for you to request help, especially from him and not the demon brothers.

.

The doorbell rang, a long chime of an anime song that rings throughout the house. Levi had installed it a few months after moving in and none of them had figured out how to change the tune.

He patiently waits.

The door swings open. He is greeted by the sight of you, eyes bright and wide open as you huff loudly. It seemed that you had run down from somewhere in the house to not keep him waiting.

“Hello.” 

He bows his head slightly as a form of politeness. You stand there, hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath. His lips twitched in amusement but he fought to keep it down. Finally, you cleared your throat and straightened up.

“You’re here! Come with me.” You turned on your heels to walk off, leaving Barbatos in your wake. This strange behaviour left him even more puzzled, yet also entertained. 

He follows behind you, noting that the house seemed quieter than usual. As far as he knows, only the young prince and the firstborn should be out of the house. But he digresses. It’s not his responsibility to keep track of their schedules.

Lost in his thoughts, he only realised that the final destination was your room. He watches as you knock on the door and then immediately pushes him forward to open the door handle. Bemused, he did exactly as you motioned.

“Happy birthday!”

Multicoloured confetti fluttered in his vision, twirling to land around his feet. He stares at the air for a while, the stark contrast of the rainbow-squared paper against the wall somehow made his throat develop a lump.

A tug on his coat caught his attention. He chances a glance down to see a mess of blonde hair sprinkled with colourful paper, bashfully holding the end of his tailcoat.

“Luke.” He says, hand automatically landing on the top of his head to pick out the confetti.

The small angel pushes a gift into his arm, before quickly scuttling away to Simeon’s side. It was a box of macarons and a limited-edition baking cookbook from the Celestial Realm. It was truly sweet how much the little angel catered to his preference.

“The gifts are from Luke and I.” Simeon chuckles, as he pushes Luke in front of him. He arched an eyebrow towards Barbatos, gloved hands placed on the shoulder of the younger angel.

“Thank you.” He said, hands wrapping around the gifts tightly. “I will prepare something for your birthdays next year as well.” The older angel smiles at him peacefully, gesturing for him to turn around.

You stand there with a beam, a present clutched in your arms. He badly wants to pick off the confetti in your hair but he knows it isn’t appropriate.

“We know it’s earlier than your birthday but we wanted to do something for you too.” You pipe up, offering the vaguely book-shaped present to him. 

“Luke and I need to head back to the Celestial Realm on your actual birthday.” Simeon quips in, fingers picking out all the confetti that Barbatos had missed earlier. “And Luke also really wanted to celebrate with you.” Barbatos couldn’t help but find the miniature pout on Luke’s face cute.

“Anyways, open it!” With excitement evident in your voice, you dragged Barbatos to sit on the bed. Dimly, he notes that the teddy bear that the young master had gotten for you was taking up almost half of the bed. (Maybe for the sake of your quality of sleep, he should magic it down.) He carefully tears the wrapping off, and what’s inside makes him let out a soft appreciative noise.

“Do you like it?” You gave him a big toothy grin, eagerly pointing at the book. “I noticed how much you liked the photo we took together during our trip in the human world.”

Barbatos stays silent, staring blankly at the book. The moment everything sinks in, he looks up at you with eyes wide and searching.

“I pulled some strings and went around collecting photos from everyone.” You continued bragging, tugging the book away from him. You flipped through the pages to point at each picture, the two angels crowding around the bed to listen intently.

“I had the most trouble collecting this particular--“

“--Thank you.” He says once. “Thank you all.” He speaks out louder again, feeling like his heart was laid bare for all to see. In retrospect, a photo album and a cooking book are considered nothing in the larger scheme of things but the thoughtfulness behind the gifts makes it feel…different.

Most of his usual composure has been lost due to the embarrassed flush on his cheek but no one in the room points it out. Instead, you smile softly at him as you reach out to tap him on the shoulder once for reassurance.

“Picture?”

Simeon brandishes a camera, a model that Barbatos vaguely recognises from the Celestial Realm. You squeeze up beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist as you push Luke to sit on his other end.

“You can add this photo to the album too.” You whisper into his ears as if you were telling him a top-notch secret. “I left some slots blank so that we can fill it up in the future.”

He ponders your words in his head even as the timer goes off and the resultant flash blinds his vision for a bit.

We, huh?

He supposes that it has a nice ring to it.

══════════════════

a/n ▸ i’m of the agenda that barbatos adopted luke as his nephew/son or whatever but i just know he showers luke in love (as he should) also the photobooth photo is just because im a huge huge sucker for photobooths. I love wearing headbands and taking silly photos <3 also, first barb fic. do not perceive me too much. im struggling. /j ;; also can this be accepted as a very late barbatos birthday post

[captainsophiestark]

Did I Forget to Mention?

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Day Twelve Prompt: "Did you hear that?"

Summary: Nik's SO *might* have forgotten to tell their Mystic Falls friends about their relationship with a certain hybrid. But it's not going to stay secret for much longer.

Word Count: 2,381

Category: Fluff, little bit of Angst

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Okay, I'm calling it! Semesters suck, I'd give anything to be on a quarter system if it meant not having homework on spring break."

My friends laughed, even as I groaned and collapsed back into the couch. I got one week to take a break from school, and a small window to reunite with my friends back in Mystic Falls who'd all gone to Whitmore. We were supposed to spend the whole week having fun starting tomorrow morning, but they'd surprised me by showing up at my house tonight to get the party started early. Unfortunately, a few of my classes had given me homework, and I couldn't give in to spring break until I took care of it.

"I have a feeling you're gonna be singing a different tune in May when you're out of class and we've all still got another month left," said Bonnie with a smile.

"You're just lucky we want to enjoy the break with you," Elena added. "Otherwise we'd be getting payback for you showing up to campus during finals week to 'relax and tan'."

"Hey! I also showed up as moral support, thank you very much!"

"How was that morally supportive?" asked Caroline.

"I brought you coffees! And I was exemplifying the light at the end of the tunnel for you guys, when you finished your tests and could join me in summer fun!"

"Oh! Okay, of course," said Caroline in a tone that I knew should make me concerned. "I forgot, you're right. We'll go make some drinks and leave you to finish this, maybe play some music, so we can model that spring break fun, light at the end of the tunnel for you."

"No," I whined, flopping back onto the couch again. "Point taken, and I'm sorry. Just please don't leave me to this homework alone."

"We won't," Elena reassured me, reaching out to rest her hand on my arm. "But... the three of us might make drinks anyway."

I groaned, grabbing a pillow and burying my face in it. Finally, I sighed, sitting upright again.

"Fine. You know where all the stuff is. Just... try not to get so buzzed you tell me to edit a bunch of ridiculous stuff into my paper, okay?"

"No promises!" chirped Caroline as my three friends all stood. I sighed, but before they could get any further out of the room, a loud thud came from the direction of the kitchen.

All three of us froze in our tracks. We'd spent way too much time dealing with supernatural headaches not to go on high alert after something like that.

"Did you hear that?" hissed Caroline. We all nodded, so I gestured for the four of us to head towards the kichen and check it out.

If it was a vampire, it had to be one who'd already been invited in. If it was a different kind of supernatural creature, between the four of us, we should probably be able to handle it. Still, it never hurt to be cautious. Surprises happened all the time, and they could be deadly.

We took up positions just outside the kitchen, then Caroline counted us down with her fingers. When she dropped the last one, all four of us whirled around the corner, ready for action.

I stopped dead at the sight of Klaus Mikaelson hovering by my kitchen island, my heart dropping in my chest. Caroline and Elena both looked ready for a fight, but Bonnie beat them both to it. She raised her hand, and Nik dropped to the ground, holding his head.

"Stop!" I cried, rushing forward and yanking Bonnie's hand down. She stared at me, shocked, outraged, and confused, but to my relief I saw Nik stand up out of the corner of my eye.

Silence settled over the kitchen. Every single person was looking at me, my friends all with incredulous looks and scowls, Nik with a faint smile. For my part, I actually found myself wishing I could go back to my classwork. Just as long as I could be anywhere but here.

Unfortunately, I didn't get my wish. Nik took a deep breath in, and I knew if I didn't speak quickly, he'd take over the explanations for me. As bad as this situation was, I knew that would only make it worse.

I'd been invovled in the Mikaelson drama with the rest of my friends while they'd been living in Mystic Falls, but once they left, I hadn't really given them much more thought.

That is, until I ended up going to college in New Orleans. Klaus and I had run into each other at an art exhibit, and it functioned as a kind of neutral territory. We were both pretty opinionated, and we'd ended up spending the most of the day together, first talking about the exhibit but quickly moving on to other topics, too. We'd had a strange kind of reconnection, although we hadn't really been connected in the first place, and within a few weeks he'd asked me on a date and I'd said yes. We'd been dating since that freshman fall, and recently, I'd caught myself thinking the word love more than once. But I'd been serioiusly, seriously putting off telling my friends back home.

I'd managed to dodge telling them for two whole school breaks now. But apparently, with spring break, my luck was finally running out.

"Alright," I started, holding up my hands before Nik could jump in. "So... Nik and I have been... together... for a while now. We ran into each other again in New Orleans and just kind of hit it off. I didn't want to tell you guys becuase, well... I didn't think you'd take it well."

No one said anything for a moment, like my words were on a slight time delay. Then, all three of my friends started shouting at once.

"Are you kidding me?"

"What were you thinking?"

"Out of every single person in New Orleans, in the world, why the hell did you pick him?"

Nik stepped up beside me as all three of my friends had their reactions. Honestly, I couldn't blame them. It was a justified reaction, especially after how seriously they'd been blindsided. Nik didn't seem the least bit phased as he wrapped an arm around my waist.

"I'm sorry, love," he muttered into my ear. "I didn't realize your little friends were over."

I just sighed. "It's not your fault, Nik. I should've told them a long time ago. Don't worry, they'll be fine."

As one, our attention returned to my friends, who were now glaring at the two of us. I grimaced, but Nik seemed to enjoy the negative attention. He grinned and pulled me in closer to his side.

Bonnie looked on the verge of using magic again, and Caroline seemed about two seconds away from charging Nik to start a fist fight, so I gave his shoulder a squeeze and gently stepped away from him.

"Guys... I'm sorry. I should've told you a long time ago, and I shouldn't have put you in a situation to find out like this."

"Or, how about you shouldn't be dating the guy who tried to kill us all in the first place!" Caroline shouted, unable to contain herself anymore. I grimaced, but didn't step any further away from Nik.

"That's... a fair reaction. But seriously, I'm happy. Happier than I've ever been. And it's not like he's trying to kill any of us anymore-"

"At least not right now," chorused Nik and Bonnie in sync, with two very different tones to their words. Bonnie fixed him with a fierce glare, and I winced.

"Okay, maybe we should all sit down and talk," I said. "Or the four of us can talk, and I can ask Nik to come back later-"

"No way," said Caroline, raising her hands and taking a few steps back as she shook her head. "If he's staying, I'm not."

"Caroline-"

"I need a walk."

With that, she turned and vamp sped out of the house. With a look at me, Elena followed her. Bonnie started drifting in that direction, too, but she paused first, with a scowl at Nik before giving me a slightly less hostile look.

"I'm glad you're happy. Really, I am. But you might want to consider the cost that happiness is coming with."

With that, she turned on her heel and walked out of the room. I sighed the minute she was out of sight, slouching against the corner and sighing. That could've gone much, much better.

"They took that better than expected," mused Nik from beside me. I groaned, and I heard him huff a laugh.

When I straightened up and met his eyes, however, I noticed the slightly guarded expression behind his eyes. It had taken a lot of work to get good at reading Nik, and I still couldn't do it with 100% accuracy. But even so, I knew he wasn't nearly as calm and unaffected as he looked right now.

I sighed. My friends weren't the only people I needed to have a serious conversation with.

"Nik..." I started, taking his hand and settling into one of the stools at the kitchen counter. I pulled him onto the one next to mine, scooting closer until our knees were pressed together and I could keep him close for this conversation. "I'm sorry. I should've told them a long, long time ago. And I want you to know... I didn't tell them because I didn't want to deal with the reaction I knew they'd have. Not because of anything to do with you."

Nik's eyes flickered, scanning my face. I gave his hand a squeeze, but I could tell we weren't out of the woods yet.

"Isn't their reaction everything to do with me?" he asked, his voice low and serious. I recognized the edged glint in his eye as something that usually spelled trouble. I sighed.

"Their reaction is because they don't like you, yes. But my decision not to tell them had nothing to do with you. I would've been just as hesitant to tell them I was dating a guy they didn't like in our class at Mystic Falls. But with you... I should've told them earlier."

"And why's that? You wish they hadn't found me in your kitchen? Wish you could've told them while I was a few states away, so no one would have to face the reality of the two of us being together?"

"No, Nik. I mean, yes, I wish they'd found out differently than this. But I should've told them earlier because... because I have serious feelings for you. And they're serious enough that I don't want to hide them or you. Ever."

Nik raised his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth lifting up in the faintest hint of a smile. I smiled too, recognizing the shift in his mood.

"And what, exactly, might these 'serious feelings' be?"

His tone was mostly teasing, but I decided to take it seriously. I took his other hand, then pulled both into my lap, holding them tight. I met his eyes, making sure he understood just how much I meant my words.

"I love you, Nik. I've been feeling that way for a while now. I'm honestly happier than I've ever been, and you're a big part of that. I love my friends, and I know they'll come around eventually, but until they do? That's their problem. You mean the world to me, and... I mean, yeah, like I said. I love you."

A smile had been growing on Nik's face, and by the time I finished, it was a full-on grin that I only got to see from him every once in a while. He pulled me closer, off of my stool until I stood between his legs, chest to chest with him.

"You love me, do you?"

"Yeah." I nodded, my heart beating out of my chest in my rib cage. I felt pretty confident that Nik returned my feelings, but that didn't take away any of the nerves. "Can't you tell? You're supposed to be able to hear heart rates, aren't you?"

Nik chuckled, pulling me even closer to him for a kiss. I melted against him, happy to feel him smiling against my mouth as his arms wound around my waist. After a few breathless moments, Nik pulled back just enough to speak.

"I love you too," he said, his voice low and his breath fanning against my lips. "Don't worry for a moment that I don't. I would do anything for you. And it's a bit ridiculous how much I mean that."

I smiled, closing the distance between us again as I kissed him.

"I'm glad you came to visit me," I whispered when we paused just long enough to take a breath. "I'm glad my friends know. I'm glad you're here with me. I'm glad you know I love you."

"I agree with all of the above," Nik said with a smirk. "And I'm glad your friends are gone, and that we have the house to ourselves."

Nik leaned forward to deepen the kiss, but I leaned back. I put one hand on his chest and grimaced. He raised an eyebrow.

"Is there a problem, love?"

"...I may or may not have a paper to finish. Tonight."

"Are you sure it has to be done tonight?" asked Nik, his voice low and silky smooth as he ran a hand over my hip. I just sighed.

"Yeah, babe, I'm sure. But... if you can help me get it done, then I'm all yours for the rest of the night."

Nik pulled back quickly, looking at me with one eyebrow raised and an eager expression on his face. I put a hand to my mouth to stifle a smile at his 180 degree mood shift.

"Well then, what are we waiting for? Let's get that paper finished, love. I've got quite a few ideas for tonight."

I just laughed as I followed Nik into the living room. I had a feeling we were in for a rough ride the rest of this spring break dealing with my friends. But I really did love Nik. I was happy with him, and if we could find a way to stay together in our own little bubble of bliss despite the crazy supernatural shenanigans in New Orleans, I knew we'd be able to figure it out in Mystic Falls, too.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[kikyoupdates]

Love Bite ⭑˚🩸⭑ 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑒

yandere!vampires x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, original characters, vampire!ocs x fem!reader

Desperate for money to pay off your debts, you sign up for a program that allows you to sell your blood to vampires. At first, everything is fine, and you’re finally able to make ends meet. But they soon begin craving more than just your blood.

story masterlist | next

Certain people are dealt a shittier hand in life than others, and unfortunately, you are one of those people.

Life has never been easy for you. As far back as you can remember, it's been one shitstorm after the other. Your parents are as good as dead to you, because all they ever did was make reckless choices and run away, leaving you to clean up their mess. That's how, at the young age of twenty, you've already got more debt than the average person could ever fathom.

Still, you make do. You hustle as best you can to get through one day and move on to the next. It's exhausting, and sometimes it feels like you're ready to give up, but against all odds, you persevere.

"That'll be 50 credits," the cashier says.

You let out a sigh and give her your card. Everything is so goddamn expensive these days. Even a simple grocery trip feels like a big slap in the face.

"Oh. Sorry," she blinks. "It's been declined. Do you have any other form of payment on hand?"

Shit. This one too?

You mumble an apology and dig through your wallet again. Thankfully, you happen to have enough cash to cover the cost. Just barely.

"Thank you for shopping with us," the cashier recites monotonously. She packs your groceries in a bag and hands it to you, then gestures for the next customer to step forward.

You leave the store the same as always, feeling worn-down and discouraged. You'll have to apply for a new card, but who knows when they'll send it to you. Goddammit. You're already scraping the bottom of the barrel as is. You hardly have enough emergency savings to last until then.

It's a shitty day, and unfortunately for you, it's about to get even worse.

"[Name]," a distinct, familiar voice mutters. You flinch at the sound, nearly dropping your grocery bag in the process. There's a man standing outside your apartment complex. A man that always makes your stomach crease in discomfort.

You instinctively step back. "I don't want any trouble, Johnny. Please, can I just get through?"

He ignores you and walks over, and while you stand there, stiff from fright, he peeks into your grocery bag and hums, visibly amused.

"Not exactly a lavish dinner," he chuckles. "But I guess you've got no choice but to be frugal, huh?"

"I just want to go home," you plead. "Please. Don't do this."

Alas, Johnny has never been one to give a shit about your circumstances, and today is no exception.

"I haven't been getting the money you promised me," he glares. "You've been late on your payments, and I'm really starting to lose my patience here."

You try to protest, but he wraps his hand around your throat and forcibly pins you against a wall. He isn't applying too much pressure, not yet, but the threat is there all the same.

"You owe me money, [Name]." His pupils constrict, a telltale sign that he's furious. "I'm done with your shitty excuses. If you can't make good on your promises, then you pay the price. This is the way the world works."

He holds you there, just so he can watch you whimper and cower in fear, then he eventually releases his hold on you and steps away.

"I'm giving you one more week," he says. "If you don't come up with the amount we agreed on in one week, I might seriously have to kill you. And don't even think of running away like your parents did. I'm sure as hell not gonna make the same mistake twice."

Johnny walks off with a steady, relaxed gait and his hands buried in his pockets. It's that easy for him. He can threaten an innocent woman and not think anything of it, the sick bastard.

You sniffle and resist the urge to cry. Fuck your parents. All they ever did was ruin your life. You have no idea where they're hiding right now, but for their own sake, they had better not show their faces around you ever again.

Still. There's no point in lamenting what can't be changed. Your parents are gone. It's up to you to remedy this situation and pay that disgusting loan shark back.

The question is, how?

How in the world will you pull that off? You barely make enough to eat two meals a day and cover your rent, let alone the steep cost of your debts.

It just seems like a lost cause. You've been working yourself to the bone, but you still can't even make a dent in what your parents owe. It's all too much to bear. It makes you want to forfeit your life entirely. At least then, you might finally be able to rest in peace.

Weighed down by the hopelessness of your situation, you trudge into your crappy studio apartment, chuck the groceries in the fridge, and plop down on the couch, defeated.

I guess it's time to look for another job. Something I can squeeze into my schedule. I can probably survive without sleeping a few days in a row, right?

You chuckle brokenly and scroll through your phone, looking for anything you might have a shot at. Finding a good job in this city is yet another hopeless dream for someone like you, who didn't go to college and doesn't have any other notable qualifications. All of your current jobs may as well be paying you dirt, which is why you can never meet Johnny's ridiculous demands.

You're just about to give up and go make yourself a rather pathetic dinner, when suddenly, something catches your eye.

[𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗠 𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗖𝗛]: 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱. 𝗦𝘂𝗰𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘃𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝘀-𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗶𝘀.

Vampires. Not long ago, a law was passed, granting vampires access to the city. More and more of them seem to be moving here, the central hub of the country. Of course, most people felt uncomfortable with this change, but it seems to be a necessary step in fighting back against years of discrimination. Humans naturally fear vampires, and the government is doing everything it can to integrate them into society.

Since drinking blood by force is considered a crime, this program is most likely a way for vampires to obtain their blood safely and without any consequence, just so long as people are willing to sign up for it.

You take a moment to assess your situation. You have almost no money to your name, and there's a greedy loan shark that's just itching to torture you if you fail to pay him back in time. If you don't get some money, and fast, you're probably headed for the afterlife.

That being said, you've never encountered a vampire before. You've heard all sorts of horror stories about them. That they're physically stronger than humans, have more acute senses, and could easily bludgeon you to death if they wanted to.

But even if that's actually true, how is it any different than what Johnny will do to you if you don't pay him back?

You press your lips together. Perhaps there's no harm in trying at least once and seeing how it'll go. It's not like you're guaranteed to get accepted for the program anyways. And besides, this is being implemented by the government, so surely, they won't allow any humans to come to harm in the process.

Above all else, you are incredibly desperate, with very little to lose.

So, you decide to take a gamble.

𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗟𝗬 [𝗫]?

...

Your luck might finally be changing for the better, or maybe they're just desperate for applicants, but either way, you got the job.

It was a bit tedious. The screening process was rather lengthy, and they made you do quite a few medical tests to ensure you didn't have any infectious diseases or anything like that. You suppose having a clean bill of health is the one thing required for this position, considering you'll be giving your blood to someone else. Thankfully, even though your life is shit, you've always been rather sturdy, which is the only reason you've lasted this long.

You're currently walking through a glossy white corridor. The building you're in is polished and sleek, some kind of medical company that's been researching vampires for quite a long time. They call themselves Plasma Inc., which is a bit tacky, but you're certainly in no position to judge.

The doctor escorting you holds a clipboard against his chest, and glances over at you every so often.

"We're almost there," he says. After a brief pause, he adds, "There's no need to be nervous."

Honestly, you're a little nervous, but only because you've never done this before. Giving your blood to a vampire... it all sounds so farfetched. You really didn't think this was something you'd ever be doing.

But beggars can't afford to be choosers.

"For the client's privacy and peace of mind, there aren't any cameras inside the room. We will not be able to see or hear anything that happens in there. You signed the confidentiality clause, so please keep in mind that you will be liable for any private information that you happen to disclose."

You knew as much going into this. There's no point in psyching yourself out. Everything's going to be fine. This is all perfectly safe.

...it should be, at least.

"Whenever you're ready," the doctor says. He's stopped in front of a door, and you instinctively gulp as you imagine what—or rather, who—is on the other side.

Okay, then. No reason to back out now. You chose this. It's a desperate measure, and sure, you'll lose a bit of blood in the process, but if it helps you pay off your debt and get back on your feet, then it's easily worth it.

"I'm ready," you say.

The doctor nods briefly, offers you an encouraging smile, then opens the door.

It closes behind you right away, and your eyes instinctively search the room until they land on a motionless, seated figure.

It's a man. Well, a vampire, but still a man. Deep down, you'd been hoping that it might be a woman. A man seems somewhat more intimidating, although you suppose all vampires are stronger than humans, so it wouldn't have made a difference either way.

He's beautiful, though. Vampires are scarce in numbers, and they don't usually go out during the day, so it's unlikely that you would have ever passed by one. But you've only ever heard people speak of them in frightening terms. Never in a million years did you imagine they'd be so utterly gorgeous. Or perhaps this particular vampire is simply an exception.

You don't quite realize how much time you've spent fawning over his appearance until he suddenly stands up.

Instinctively, you flinch, and it's clear that it doesn't go unnoticed.

He narrows his eyes. "If you're not comfortable doing this, you're welcome to leave. I was told that the humans who signed up for this program were all completely willing. I have no intention of taking your blood without your full cooperation."

"Oh. S-Sorry," you stammer. "I'm not uncomfortable. I guess I'm just a little bit starstruck. It's my first time meeting a vampire."

"There's no need to gawk at me. I'm not some animal trapped inside a cage."

He has a rather harsh tongue, but again, you're in no position to judge. Perhaps your reaction offended him, unintentional as it may have been.

"Sorry," you say again, then you offer him a weak smile. "Um... I'm [Name]. I'm not really sure what the etiquette for this sort of thing is, but it's nice to meet you."

It takes him a while to respond. He studies you quietly with those mesmerizing eyes of his, and the silence is awkward, to say the least.

"I'm Xavier," he finally replies. He frowns a bit. "But I didn't come here to chat. If you're ready, I'll like to move on with this as soon as possible."

Right. He's here for the same reason you are. It's not an opportunity for the two of you to exchange pleasantries.

You're here to sell your blood, and he's here to drink it.

"Okay," you swallow. Now that it's come down to it, you can feel your heart beating faster by the second. But this is fine. This is nothing. Compared to all the shit you've already been through, this may as well be a walk in the park.

You walk over to him, taking slow, careful steps, then you sit down in one of the chairs. He does the same, staring at you without blinking the whole time. You watch as he shuffles a bit closer, and he uses his fingers to pull down the collar of your shirt slightly. You shiver at the sensation of his skin brushing against yours. God, his hands are cold.

Xavier stares right into your eyes. "This is your last chance to back out. If you tell me to stop now, I will, but otherwise, I'll take it that you've agreed to move on."

"I'm fine," you reassure. Despite the fact that your stomach is a bundle of nerves right now, you're determined to press on. You need this. There's simply no other option.

You'll do whatever it takes to live on, even if it means selling the very essence that grants you life in the first place.

"Okay," Xavier says, and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. His jaw unhinges, and the last thing you see before you squeeze your eyes shut is the pearly-white color of his bright, glistening fangs.

He bites into your neck.  

story masterlist | next

More Chapters are available on Quotev or Wattpad!!

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

🩸 main masterlist ♡ character appearances

[ms-demeanor]

Hello! First, I wanted to say thank you for your post about updating software and such. I really appreciated your perspective as someone with ADHD. The way you described your experiences with software frustration was IDENTICAL to my experience, so your post made a lot of sense to me.

Second, (and I hope my question isn't bothering you lol) would you mind explaining why it's important to update/adopt the new software? Like, why isn't there an option that doesn't involve constantly adopting new things? I understand why they'd need to fix stuff like functional bugs/make it compatible with new tech, but is it really necessary to change the user side of things as well?

Sorry if those are stupid questions or they're A Lot for a tumblr rando to ask, I'd just really like to understand because I think it would make it easier to get myself to adopt new stuff if I understand why it's necessary, and the other folks I know that know about computers don't really seem to understand the experience.

Thank you so much again for sharing your wisdom!!

A huge part of it is changing technologies and changing norms; I brought up Windows 8 in that other post and Win8 is a *great* example of user experience changing to match hardware, just in a situation that was an enormous mismatch with the market.

Win8's much-beloathed tiles came about because Microsoft seemed to be anticipating a massive pivot to tablet PCs in nearly all applications. The welcome screen was designed to be friendly to people who were using handheld touchscreens who could tap through various options, and it was meant to require more scrolling and less use of a keyboard.

But most people who the operating system went out to *didn't* have touchscreen tablets or laptops, they had a desktop computer with a mouse and a keyboard.

When that was released, it was Microsoft attempting to keep up with (or anticipate) market trends - they wanted something that was like "the iPad for Microsoft" so Windows 8 was meant to go with Microsoft Surface tablets.

We spent the first month of Win8's launch making it look like Windows 7 for our customers.

You can see the same thing with the centered taskbar on Windows 11; that's very clearly supposed to mimic the dock on apple computers (only you can't pin it anywhere but the bottom of the screen, which sucks).

Some of the visual changes are just trends and various companies trying to keep up with one another.

With software like Adobe I think it's probably based on customer data. The tool layout and the menu dropdowns are likely based on what people are actually looking for, and change based on what other tools people are using. That's likely true for most programs you use - the menu bar at the top of the screen in Word is populated with the options that people use the most; if a function you used to click on all the time is now buried, there's a possibility that people use it less these days for any number of reasons. (I'm currently being driven mildly insane by Teams moving the "attach file" button under a "more" menu instead of as an icon next to the "send message" button, and what this tells me is either that more users are putting emojis in their messages than attachments, or microsoft WANTS people to put more emojis than messages in their attachments).

But focusing on the operating system, since that's the big one:

The thing about OSs is that you interact with them so frequently that any little change seems massive and you get REALLY frustrated when you have to deal with that, but version-to-version most OSs don't change all that much visually and they also don't get released all that frequently. I've been working with windows machines for twelve years and in that time the only OSs that Microsoft has released were 8, 10, and 11. That's only about one OS every four years, which just is not that many. There was a big visual change in the interface between 7 and 8 (and 8 and 8.1, which is more of a 'panicked backing away' than a full release), but otherwise, realistically, Windows 11 still looks a lot like XP.

The second one is a screenshot of my actual computer. The only change I've made to the display is to pin the taskbar to the left side instead of keeping it centered and to fuck around a bit with the colors in the display customization. I haven't added any plugins or tools to get it to look different.

This is actually a pretty good demonstration of things changing based on user behavior too - XP didn't come with a search field in the task bar or the start menu, but later versions of Windows OSs did, because users had gotten used to searching things more in their phones and browsers, so then they learned to search things on their computers.

There are definitely nefarious reasons that software manufacturers change their interfaces. Microsoft has included ads in home versions of their OS and pushed searches through the Microsoft store since Windows 10, as one example. That's shitty and I think it's worthwhile to find the time to shut that down (and to kill various assistants and background tools and stop a lot of stuff that runs at startup).

But if you didn't have any changes, you wouldn't have any changes. I think it's handy to have a search field in the taskbar. I find "settings" (which is newer than control panel) easier to navigate than "control panel." Some of the stuff that got added over time is *good* from a user perspective - you can see that there's a little stopwatch pinned at the bottom of my screen; that's a tool I use daily that wasn't included in previous versions of the OS. I'm glad it got added, even if I'm kind of bummed that my Windows OS doesn't come with Spider Solitaire anymore.

One thing that's helpful to think about when considering software is that nobody *wants* to make clunky, unusable software. People want their software to run well, with few problems, and they want users to like it so that they don't call corporate and kick up a fuss.

When you see these kinds of changes to the user experience, it often reflects something that *you* may not want, but that is desirable to a *LOT* of other people. The primary example I can think of here is trackpad scrolling direction; at some point it became common for trackpads to scroll in the opposite direction that they used to; now the default direction is the one that feels wrong to me, because I grew up scrolling with a mouse, not a screen. People who grew up scrolling on a screen seem to feel that the new direction is a lot more intuitive, so it's the default. Thankfully, that's a setting that's easy to change, so it's a change that I make every time I come across it, but the change was made for a sensible reason, even if that reason was opaque to me at the time I stumbled across it and continues to irritate me to this day.

I don't know. I don't want to defend Windows all that much here because I fucking hate Microsoft and definitely prefer using Linux when I'm not at work or using programs that I don't have on Linux. But the thing is that you'll see changes with Linux releases as well.

I wouldn't mind finding a tool that made my desktop look 100% like Windows 95, that would be fun. But we'd probably all be really frustrated if there hadn't been any interface improvements changes since MS-DOS (and people have DEFINITELY been complaining about UX changes at least since then).

Like, I talk about this in terms of backward compatibility sometimes. A lot of people are frustrated that their old computers can't run new software well, and that new computers use so many resources. But the flipside of that is that pretty much nobody wants mobile internet to work the way that it did in 2004 or computers to act the way they did in 1984.

Like. People don't think about it much these days but the "windows" of the Windows Operating system represented a massive change to how people interacted with their computers that plenty of people hated and found unintuitive.

(also take some time to think about the little changes that have happened that you've appreciated or maybe didn't even notice. I used to hate the squiggly line under misspelled words but now I see the utility. Predictive text seems like new technology to me but it's really handy for a lot of people. Right clicking is a UX innovation. Sometimes you have to take the centered task bar in exchange for the built-in timer deck; sometimes you have to lose color-coded files in exchange for a right click.)

[juneyjubilation]

this is tim being a munch... i have nothing to say for myself. i wrote this instead of doing my coursework for my masters program 😔💅

timothy jackson drake-wayne x fempov!reader

minors and ageless blogs do not interract!

"Please, Tim, more," you whine, your voice strained and desperate. Tim has been at this for at least an hour, knelt between your thighs, face buried in your aching core. His tongue swipes through your wetness, a groan escaping his lips. You arch your back, seeking more.

"Don't be shy now, sit on my face," he commands, his voice thick with lust. Without hesitation, you swing a leg over his shoulder, positioning yourself perfectly to take him deeper into your warmth.

"You look so pretty like this, baby," he breathes, his fingers gripping your thighs. He thrusts his face forward, driving his tongue deep inside you. You moan loudly, your hips rocking against him. His hands knead your flesh, sending shivers down your spine.

Tim pulls back, giving you a moment to catch your breath. "Aren't you going to thank me?" he asks, a teasing grin on his face.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you babble, breathless. Your voice trembles as you're on the edge of losing yourself in pleasure.

"That's it. That's my girl," he praises, pride etched in each word. He resumes his assault on your most intimate areas, flicking your clit with expert precision.

"What pretty noises you're making for me... am I making you feel good?" he asks, pausing to look up at you. You nod, your watery eyes filled with raw desire. "Good, because I'm not stopping until you beg me to."

And with that, he dives back into your slick folds, his fingers joining in the pleasure. You're lost to the waves of ecstasy crashing around you, held captive by Tim's talented mouth.

Your back arches from the bed, your cries growing louder, more desperate, "More, Tim, I need more," you plead, your voice a mixture of need and desperation. Each stroke of his tongue, each press of his fingers sends you higher, closer to the edge.

Tim continues his work, feeling your body tighten beneath his touch. "Are you close, baby?" he asks, his voice husky and dark.

"Y-yes, yes I am," you breathe out, your body quivering. "I'm so close, please."

His grip on your thighs tightens, and his pace increases. "Then come for me, sweetheart. Let go." His command, combined with the overwhelming pleasure, pushes you over the edge.

A scream rips from your throat as you're flooded with pleasure, your body shaking as wave after wave washes over you. Tim holds you in the throes of your orgasm, lingering on your most sensitive spots until your cries fade into satisfied pants.

He pulls back, a pleased smile on his lips as he admires his handiwork. "Good girl," he murmurs, nuzzling your thigh before sitting back onto his heels, wiping his mouth.

You're left breathless and tingling, utterly sated. "God, Tim, how do you do that?" you manage through heavy breathing.

He smirks, leaning in for a kiss. "Magic," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear, before nestling you back into the soft pillows.

[loveharlow]

SEVEN [SEASON 2] - 005 (PART 1)

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[7.3k] Early morning arrests and break ups, one member of the pogues goes rogue and gets into a world of trouble.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, forced drug use, abduction, mentions of physical violence, mention of non-con/sexual assault, disorientation

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ Good doesn't come without bad :/ I'M SORRY also THIS CHAPTER IS SM BETTER W THE SONG TRUST ME

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“BETWEEN YESTERDAY AFTERNOON AND EARLY THIS MORNING, OUR KILDARE COUNTY POLICE DEPARTMENT CARRIED OUT SEVERAL ARRESTS IN THE MURDER CASES OF SUSAN PETERKIN, GAVIN BARNSTEAD, BIG JOHN ROUTLEDGE, AND OWEN CARTER.” Shoupe’s voice traveled from the small speaker of your phone. You were watching the local news — you, JJ, John B, Pope, and Kiara all sitting out on the pier behind The Chateau. It was still early, the sun just settling in the sky, providing a comforting warmth over the five of you.

JJ was laid outstretched on on the boat, head buried in his arms while Pope stood with his hands in his pockets. Kiara was kicking her feet, sitting on the wood of the dock as you and JB stood side by side, eyes glued to the phone screen as Shoupe continued giving his statement. “...The individuals in custody are our department pathologist Mark Daniels, officer Shane Graves, local attorney Rebecca Reyes, and Rafe Cameron.” Shoupe explained, swallowing harshly. “Unfortunately, our prime suspect, Ward Cameron was the victim of an explosion late yesterday afternoon. The other trials will take place in the following weeks, more updates are to come. Thank you for your time.” And then he was walking away from the podium swiftly, head down as chatter erupted and cameras flashed, the program cutting back to it’s anchor.

You sighed, powering off the phone and sliding it into your back pocket. 

“...He deserved it, right?” JJ asked, lifting his head from his arms and squinting his eyes from the harsh sun.

“Of course he deserved it.” Pope added, sitting down on the boat.”I’ve just...never seen anyone blow themselves up like that.”

“Cross that one off the bucket list.” The blonde shrugged, laying his head back down.

“Dude.” Pope said sternly, shooting JJ a look of warning as Kiara rounded the dock and sat herself next to John B who’d taken a seat inside.

Planting a gentle hand on his back, she spoke to him softly. “Are you okay?”

John B fiddled with his fingers in his lap, biting his lip. “It’s not me I’m worried about.”

POPE WALKED IN JUST AS YOU’D SLIPPED YOUR OTHER SHOE ON AND STOOD FROM THE SOFA, the boy stopping in his tracks.

“Where are you going?” He asked casually, resuming his slow steps plopping himself down on the sofa.

“Hopefully to get my dog back.” You said, patting your pockets to make sure you had everything. With the announcement of Rafe's arrest, you figured it was as good a time as any.

“...And you were just going to leave without telling anyone?” He asked, sitting up straighter, becoming increasingly more concerned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t think JJ would agree with it either-”

“What does he have to do with anything?” You cut him off, your eyebrows set into a straight line.

“C’mon,” Pope sassed, standing from the couch. “It’s literally so obvious. It’s been obvious.” He said cooly. “Like, everyone knew he liked you before but now it’s clear you two have something going on. And you know how he is. He cares about you. A lot. You don’t wanna make him worry, do you?”

You wanted to tell him so badly. You felt like he needed to know why JJ wasn’t a priority right now. But you knew doing it would break Pope’s heart. Pope was in love with Kiara. And he deserved to know the truth, but you telling him out of spite wasn’t the best way to go through it.

“...Look, Pope.” You sighed, letting your shoulders fall. “Me and JJ aren’t on the best terms right now and I don’t want to be around him and I definitely don’t want his help. I know what I’m doing.” You assured, looking the boy in his eyes. “Okay? I’ll be fine, I promise.”

He seemed to sway on his feet, fighting with what to do in his head. “At least let me come with you. You can’t go alone-”

You immediately shook your head, putting your hands in front of you. “No, no. I don’t want you anywhere near Barry or Rafe without at least an army behind you.”

“But what about you?”

“...I’ve dealt with them before.” You affirmed, tensing your jaw.

Pope sighed in defeat, running a hand down his face. “Well, Rafe’s in jail but I doubt he’ll be in there long before he’s bailed out so you should be up against just Barry.” He pondered, turning to you and squinting his eyes. “...Fine. But if I call or text and I don’t get an answer, I’m telling JJ and everyone else. Deal?” He held out his hand.

The amount of care Pope had for your safety was sweet. So sweet it put a small, sheepish smile on your face. Connecting your hand with his, you shook it. “Deal.”

YOU SLOWED IN YOUR STEPS SOME FEET AWAY FROM THE SECLUDED TRAILER, wanting to minimize the chances of Barry seeing or hearing you before you even got to the door. The closer you got, the worse it smelled. You’d almost forgotten how the stench of weed and bonfire smoke stung your nostrils. Or how the overgrown grass scratched at your exposed legs, irritating the skin.

Your eyes immediately spotted a singular, metallic dog bowl — the inside smeared with what looked like canned meat. You felt sorrow and relief all at once. On the bright side, at least Marley was here. Or here at some point.

“Lookin’ for that mutt?” A familiar raspy voice sounded out. You whipped your head to the side to find Barry standing the doorway of his trailer. He startled you for a moment but the fear quickly diminished. After all, Barry rarely ever left the comfort of his trailer. He was dressed in a dirty wifebeater and shorts, his signature smirk plastered on his face.

“Where is she?” You asked, a hard expression on your face.

He simply drew his lips into a thin line, his eyebrows raising as he shrugged carelessly. “I ain’t got a damn clue.” He chuckled, shifting his weight against the frame and licking his lips. “Why don’t you ask Country Club?”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. “He’s in a cell. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here. Not alone, anyway.” You explained. “What, you don’t watch the news or something? Figured you’d keep tabs on your partner in crime.”

Barry just stood there smiling. Smiling weirdly. It made your stomach turn. You were never scared of Barry but he never failed to give you the creeps. “Trust me, I keep tabs.” He chuckled, strutting down the small staircase that led up to the door of his trailer. “You shoulda kept your ass away from here, Snoozie.” He told you, waving a finger in your direction, a mischievous expression on his face.

“...What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, pinching your eyebrows together.

“It means…whatever happens now is on you.” He smiled when suddenly, you felt two hands wrap around you and pull you into a body. One arm was on your neck, right under your chin as the other held your torso against the assailants. You could hear breathing in your ear — somewhere between heaving and chuckling as your body froze before trying to fight the person off to no avail.

“Hey, calm down,” You knew that voice.

It was the voice of someone who wasn’t supposed to be here.

“...Get off of me.” You warned, but it came out as more of a weak whisper.

You didn’t think you were afraid of Rafe anymore. But the feeling of his hands on your body, the force he was using to hold you in place, his warm breath against your neck — it all made you feel disgusting.

It made you feel like you were in the back of his truck all over again.

“Yeahhh…I can’t do that.” He laughed, walking you closer to Barry, his grip never loosening. “We’ll let you and your annoying ass dog go but, see, you walked into our domain? Alright, so…that means, we get to have our fun with you, first.” He whispered into your ear.

You watched helplessly as Barry pulled a plastic bag filled with a white, powdery substance from his pocket — scooping a decent amount onto the tip of his pinky before walking closer to you. "This for you and your friends stealin' my fuckin' money."

You began to dry heave, frantically shaking your head from side to side as he lifted the drugs to your nose. You jerked and jumped in Rafe’s hold, trying to do anything to get him to either let you go and disable Barry from drugging you.

“Hold her head still, Rafe.”

“Alright…” The Cameron boy groaned, carefully maneuvering the arm on your neck so that he quickly grasp your jaw, the strong hold causing an immediate ache as he held your head in place. 

“There we go…” Barry drawled on, shoving his pinky so far up your nose that it hurt, triggering you to cough vehemently but ultimately sniff the substance. “Aight, she should be out soon. Take her inside, my neighbors are nosy as shit...”

Rafe released your jaw as you coughed. Your whole chest hurt and your nostrils stung and tingled, the sensation traveling from the bridge of your nose and to your brain — the feeling somewhere in between a migraine and a brain freeze. When your coughing died down, your head began to feel light. As light as a feather on your shoulders. 

Their voices became inaudible in your ears, fading in and out. You tried to fight Rafe once more but you couldn’t feel your arms, or your legs for that matter.

The last thing you remember before the trees turned to blobs was Rafe carrying your body inside the trailer.

WHEN YOU OPENED YOUR EYES AGAIN, you didn’t know how much time had gone by. Minutes, hours…

Everything felt so heavy. Your eyelids were half close as that was as high as you could hold them. Your head rolled on your shoulders, gently swaying from side to side because holding it straight didn’t seem to be in your list of capabilities at the moment. Your lips felt permanently parted, not enough muscle strength to push them together and keep them there.

Looking around slowly, everything had a trail behind it. Everytime you turned, the object in your vision would leave behind a trail, like smeared paint. You didn't even know where you were, in all honesty. The kitchen? You looked up, letting your eyes settle before you realized what you were looking at — your hands. They were tied to a pole. A rack, of sorts.

You couldn’t even feel it. You tugged and tugged, at least you thought you were. But it didn’t look like your hands were moving.

“You awake now?” A voice echoed in your ears. You lowered your gaze to a find a figure in front of you.

Rafe, you concluded once your vision settled. 

You swallowed and you could feel that, a little bit too much. It felt like you were swallowing rocks. What did Barry give you? “...Can you untie me?” You spoke.

“I’m sorry,” Rafe said, his voice sounding weird in your ears. He crouched down in front of you, his eyes boring into yours. He looked so much scarier. “...What was that? You’re mumbling, sunshine.”

You swallowed again, the action causing you to blink harshly - the smear of colors hurting you vision when you opened your eyes again. “...Can you untie me?” You mumbled once more, but you didn’t know you were mumbling. In your ears, you could hear your voice so clear. It was so loud and it echoed, like yelling down an empty hall — every sounded bounced off the walls.

Rafe just stared at you. It looked like he was thinking before he shrugged lightly, shifting closer to you and reaching above your head where your hands were bound. “You’re too weak to go anywhere anyway…can’t do anything…might as well.”

You felt your arms float to the floor as Rafe held the rope in his hands, examining it before tossing it to the side. His gaze returned to you, analyzing your face as if he’d never seen it before. His blue scanned over you in your entirety, drinking you in with his eyes. It felt like he was staring straight into your soul, taking every part of it for himself. He was your focal point, everything else behind him fading into a mess of colors. 

Even in your altered state of consciousness, your body still found the strength to flinch when his hand reached out to touch your face, his fingers leaving a fiery trail in their wake. “...You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He whispered, his voice sounding ghostly in your ears. “I just want you to let me love you. And you won’t…” His words made you ill. So ill that you were sure that your stomach audibly turned. “I never…meant to hurt you. But you just made it so hard.”

You could see the tears welling in his eyes and the redness blooming on his nose. He was…crying. Or trying not to. You couldn’t clearly tell. “And then you told everyone that I..raped you.” He choked out, threading his fingers through your hair as you tried to move away from his touch, the sound of his digits scraping against your roots making your body recoil. “We both wanted it. You were just too ashamed to admit it. You thought it was wrong, that we were wrong. You were fighting me, I'll admit…but you wanted it.”

You shook your head, bile rising in your throat. “...Didn’t.” You choked out, throwing your head back against the wall. “I didn’t…want it.” You breathed. “And I…don’t…love you.” You struggled to form fluent sentences, your words slurring in on each other even with the long pauses in between nearly each word. “You and your family…took everything f-...from me.” Talking was as hard as hiking up the steepest hill in the world. “I just want my dog back. Can’t you j-...just give her to me?”

“Jesus- forget the fucking dog!” Rafe screamed, kicking a nearby object. You couldn’t see what it was. His hands gripped his hair at the roots, the boy pacing back and forth in front of you before crouching down in front of you once more, closer this time. “This is about us — me and you. I am in love with you. So, why is it…that you can’t love me back? You led me on. You made me like this-”

“No, I didn’t.” You cried, head thrown back as you looked up at the ceiling, tears running from your eyes, the droplets tickling your cheeks. “You made…me like this.” You said tearfully, a cough following the statement. “I was fifteen. I didn’t know…any better. But you did.” You wailed, lowering your head to look at him, although your head still swayed. “And when I did…know better, you didn’t w-want to let me go. And it doesn’t even matter…” You almost laughed through your tears. “Because your dad…ruined my life months before we even met.”

Rafe was quick to wrap his hand around your neck after that, squeezing harshly. He edged his face closer to yours, the tips of his hair tickling your forehead as stars invaded your vision, or what remained of it. “My dad? Did what he had to do. Alright? He’s not a monster.”

“...Neither was mine.” You croaked out. Rafe looked between your eyes with an expression you couldn’t place. Sadness? Anger? Whatever it was, he felt enough of it to release his grip, you taking the biggest gulp of air possible, your hair falling in front of your face as you held it down weakly.

He stood up from his crouching position in front of you. You heard him pace around once more as you caught your breath, each intake feeling like you were breathing in the coldest air ever, before you cried out in pain, the sound hurting your ears. Rafe had grabbed a fistful of your hair, using it to pull you up, but you could barely stand so the angry boy used his other hand to grip your upper arm for support. Using the hold he had on you, he drug your limp frame into the small living area, throwing you onto Barry’s tattered sofa.

…Where was Barry?

You landed on your side, rolling over onto your back. The whole room was spinning again, the quickness of his actions not allowing your brain to catch up with the swift movements. “I try to do the right thing and no one ever cares. My dad and Sarah, even Rose…they blame me for everything.” He ranted and rambled, his hands balled into fists by his sides as he looked down at you. “I thought you were different.” He said through labored breaths. Him standing above you, face red and furious, you would've sworn he was the devil himself. “But you’re just as bad as the rest of them. But I can change that…” He nodded, climbing on top of you, straddling your motionless body.

All you could do was look at him through the strands of hair that cloud your vision. You let out a ‘hmph’ as he let his weight rest on your thighs. “I can’t change their minds. I can’t fix them.” He said, his hands trailing the hem of your bottoms before unbuttoning them. “...But I can fix you.” He breathed, his tongue peeking out from between his lips as he nodded to himself. “I can make you love me.”

Before you knew it, the sound of him dragging the zipper of your fly rang out in your ears - the familiar situation triggering a series of images to flash in your mind. Images of the first time. You felt the puddles of hot tears leaving your eyes as your throat ached to say something. “Please, stop…” You cried, throwing your head side to side as your weak hands tried to push his away. “Please, don’t do this again.” You stuttered, your nimble fingers clawing at his knuckles as he struggled to drag your bottoms down your legs.

You felt like God himself came down from Heaven when a harsh light filled the trailer, the door of the mobile home opening as Barry entered, taking in the scene in front of him. You quickly registered that it was actually moonlight blinding you so viciously, the brightness fading behind Barry’s figure to reveal the eerie darkness outside.

How long had you been here?

“Aye, what the fuck? Rafe!” Barry said disgusted, slamming the door shut behind him. “Get the fuck off her, man. Don’t do that shit in my crib.” He told him, throwing a hand out in his direction. Rafe sighed, getting off of you and aggressively dragging your pants back up your legs, but he didn’t bother to button them back. You laid on the couch, sobbing silently. You didn’t know if it was out of fear or relief. “That’s why yo ass put me on paw patrol? So you could fuck the doped up girl in my damn house?”

Rafe made a face of annoyance, rolling his eyes at the drug dealer’s words. “Did you do it?”

“Uh, yeah, I did it, dumbass.” Barry said, voice full of attitude. “I just let her go in the backyard, it sounded like they were all inside. I saw one of the dudes come out and take her inside before I dipped.” He explained, grabbing a half-drunken beer from his cluttered coffee table. “Why you have me take the dog back if she still here? Y’know they gon come lookin’ for her eventually…” He threw out, the rim of the beer bottle touching his lips before he took a big sip.

“Just had to leave a little hint behind.” Rafe told Barry, sitting on the couch next to your feet as you turned to your side, groaning. He made a line out of the loose coke on the coffee table before quickly snorting it. A large exhale leaving his lungs as he let it pass through him. “It’s fun to fuck with ‘em, dude.”

“I ain’t with these games and shit.” Barry complained, walking to the back of his trailer. You were still laid out on the couch, sobbing silently. “If they come by here and fuck up my shit, it’s comin’ outta your pocket, Country Club.” He said. “And give her another hit!” He called from the back. “All that cryin’ and shit is givin’ me a headache. Damn…”

Rafe rolled his eyes and mumbled under his breath before searching around the table before picking up the plastic bag Barry had before. You figured whatever they were putting you out with wasn’t cocaine. And that’s what scared you the most when Rafe snatched you up and shoved another pinky-full up your nose, letting your drowsy frame fall back into the plushness of the sofa.

“JJ…BACK IN THE VAN!” What sounded like John B’s voice filled your ears. Your eyes cracked open little by little, your vision much more clear and less distorted than the last time you recall waking up. So many voices were speaking at once. Your eyes wandered, trying to find out who was talking to who. It was then you realized the entire world was sideways and you were inside of The Twinkie.

Your head was slightly more elevated than the rest of your body, causing you to turn and peer above you where you found Sarah’s wide eyes staring down at you, finally registering the feeling on her fingers running through your hair. Her eyes were slightly red and glossed over as she peered down at you.

You felt more conscious this time around — no paint smears, no muffled voices, and you felt like you had more control over your body. You were cold, so cold. Probably shivering.

Looking over, you found that the door of the van was open. You could see a group of people crowded in on each other. When your vision focused, you realized it your four other friends and they were surrounding Rafe and Barry.

“What is wrong with you?!” That was Kie’s voice. And you knew her well enough to hear the anger in voice. “What the hell do you want, huh? You should be in jail, you sick motherfucker!”  It wasn’t long before the guys pushed her to the back of the circle, the girl yelling at Rafe through the blockade they’d formed in front of her.

“You Kooks think you can do whatever the fuck you want!” JJ shouted, his voice deeper than you’d ever heard it before. It was almost unrecognizable. “You wanna end up like your father? ‘Cause we can make it happen!-”

“The fuck’d you just say to me, you little shit?” Rafe countered, stepping closer to JJ as John B and Pope stepped closer to him.

“You heard me, bitch.” JJ spat, the small accent he had showing itself as he pushed his way through his two friends to stand toe-to-toe with Rafe.

“All y’all needa get the fuck off my property.” Barry added, standing beside Rafe, but his words went ignored.

“If you wanna do this, we can do it. ‘Cause I’ve been waiting to get my fuckin’ hands on you.” JJ warned. “You like to drug girls? Rape them? Hit them? Hit me. Hit me, you pussy-” Just then, Rafe clocked JJ in his jaw, the force and sound of the assault causing you to flinch in Sarah’s lap as John B and Pope caught their friend, Kie gasping behind them. You tried to sit up as you watched JJ’s head whip to the side, but Sarah was quick to force your weak frame back down.

You looked up at her with wide, glassy eyes. “Rafe’s gonna hurt him.” You said weakly, sounding like a scared child.

The blonde girl simply shook her head side to side. “I don’t think so.” She smiled weakly before looking back out at the brawl unfolding outside of the vehicle. “Not this time.”

Your own eyes refocused on the two guys just as JJ recovered from the blow, wasting no time in lunging at Rafe and sending the boy to the ground, allowing himself to deliver blow after blow. You couldn’t tell if he was landing them, you could only see one arm go up after the other, his fists coming down in a vicious frenzy. 

Kiara was calling JJ’s name as Barry shook his head and backed up,n John B and Pope watching with their hands up. “Y’all gon’ have the cops pokin’ around here...” Barry said angrily, eyes on John B and Pope who stood by helplessly, shocked. “Get this shit under control, I don’t need them people on my radar!” The drug dealer urged, the commotion sure to disturb any nearby trailer owners.

John B and Pope looked at each other before John B peered back at you, an expression of sadness in his eyes.

Oh. You forgot…he didn’t know. 

So, it wasn’t long before that sadness turned to anger as he turned back to Barry. “...We’ll leave when he’s done.” John B spat, referring to the two boys brawling in the grass before walking away and rounding the vehicle to get in the driver’s seat, Pope and Kie following and climbing into the back of the van quickly. Without those three blocking your field of view, you could clearly see the two boys now.

Rafe had managed to pick himself up but surprisingly, JJ still had the upper hand. But it was still a brutal brawl between the two, one not staying on top for long before being pinned by the other. Every few seconds, you could spot droplets of blood flying. It was an odd thing — on one hand, seeing Rafe get his ass handed to him almost put a dizzy smile on your face, but on the other hand, you knew he’d never stop coming after JJ now. Any chance he got...

Especially since now he probably got the hint that JJ had some sort of feelings for you. JJ didn’t come after him like a concerned friend, JJ lunged at him like a enraged boyfriend. JJ attacked him like someone who was in love with you. And after what Rafe said in the trailer, or at least what you remember of it, these two would be butting heads over a lot more than financial status.

When the blaring of sirens hit your ears, you perked up, as well as everyone else. But Rafe and JJ were too enthralled with trying to kill each other that they must not have heard anything. 

The pogues began calling JJ’s name, trying to draw him out of his rage-induced assault to get back in the van. After a few moments, he finally registered their voices and the sound of the sirens. He forcefully pulled himself away from Rafe as the boy laid on the grass, heaving. JJ delivered one last glare to the boy on the ground, the blonde’s chest going up and down heavily as he turned and threw himself into the van.

“And don’t come ‘round here no more, you hear me?!” Barry’s voice traveled before Pope slammed the door shut, John B speeding off.

Your eyes were trained on JJ’s breathing figure — he had a small trail of blood going from his bottom lip to his chin, dirt on his shirt and in his hair, and his eyebrows were set into a permanent frown. You managed to meet his eyes for a second and he looked upset. 

Upset with you?

KIARA AND SARAH HELPED YOU INSIDE THE CHATEAU AS THE GUYS HELD THE DOORS OPEN. What you didn’t expect was for Marley to come charging at you the second you stepped foot in the house. The girls let you go gently, allowing you to crouch down on your knees and embrace your dog.

She smelled like wet dirt and you could feel the outline of her ribcage as you rubbed her sides. Tears gathered in your eyes as you and Marley comforted each other. Your voice was still weak and scratchy as you spoke softly to the animal. If anything, after today, you should be grateful she was still alive.

“Hey,” John B spoke up, your eyes going to him. “We can hose her down in the backyard while you wash off.”

You drew your lips into a thin line, nodding your head in his direction as you stood up on shaky legs, Kie and Sarah putting a hand each on your back. He and Pope led Marley outside, JJ lagging behind. “JJ.” You called out. The blonde simply looked at you over his shoulder, chewing the inside of his lip before making his way outside with the other two guys.

Your shoulders fell at his cold demeanor. You guessed he was upset with you.

“It’s okay…” Sarah reassured, her hand rubbing your back as you frowned into the distance. “He just needs a second.” She told you, turning you in the direction of the bathroom, helping you walk alongside Kie who hadn't said much. “C’mon. We’ll help you get yourself together…”

WHEN YOU CAME OUT OF THE BATHROOM, the house was empty. The only living things inside being a sleeping Marley and you. She looked a lot cleaner, aside from the food remnants around her mouth. You smiled smally to yourself, admiring the animal for a moments before walking over to her, crouching down and placing a light kiss on the top of her head. She was so deep asleep that she didn’t stir, even a little.

You almost passed out a handful of times in the shower, the steam only contributing to the lightheadedness you felt but easing the neverending ache in your arms and legs. But you felt better — less disoriented. Less…gross.

You were dressed in one of JJ’s few sweatshirts and a pair of pajama shorts. All the time the two of you’d spent living together meant some of your clothes were still mixed in with one another’s. Your hair was slightly damp, the strands pulled back into a low bun to keep it out of your face. 

Even though you felt more sober, you still felt like you were walking outside of your body and it was making you a bit nauseous. You spotted a bottle of aspirin on the kitchen counter, snatching it up and swallowing two pills.

Just then, you heard voices outside — low and faint, but there. You peered out of the small window in the kitchen , spotting John B and Pope laid out on the HMS Pogue. Everyone must’ve gone outside, you thought to yourself.

You slipped out the backdoor, bare feet on the grass as you walked in the direction of the two guys.

“What’re you two talking about?” Your voice was still off and scratchy but you were grateful that you could hear yourself talking. The two males turned to you, making out your figure in the dark of night as you squeezed into between them on the boat.

“How’re you feeling?” Pope was the first to ask, genuine concern swimming in his eyes.

You sent him a small smile. “Better.” You nodded. “...And I’m sorry. For putting you in a weird position, before I left. I shouldn’t have done that-”

“You don’t have to apologize.” He shook his head, patting your shoulder. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You mumbled a ‘thanks’ to the boy, patting the hand on your shoulder as he slid it off as you turned to John B who was already looking at you. You knew him the best out of all your friends. That’s why you could tell he was going from upset with you to sad all at once.

“Just say it.” You sighed, giving him the floor.

“...Why didn’t you tell me?”  He asked, squinting his eyes. “You’re like my sister. And not to sound weird but I love you, dude. I would’ve killed Rafe-”

“That’s why.” You cut him off, a pitiful frown on your face. “I didn’t need you doing anything stupid in my defense. And you were still torn up over your dad. We both were.”

He just huffed, turning away from you and shaking his head side to side as he crossed his arms. “...You still should’ve told me.”

“I know.” You nodded, sighing and sliding down to lay fully down next to your two friends. “Where is everyone?”

“Well, Kiara is out front doing…whatever. JJ has been pacing in the Surf Shack for like an hour, and Sarah...left.” He hesitated at the end of his statement, eyeing John B who just sighed deeply. You looked between them both, eyes stopping on John B.

“What happened?” You asked.

“We, uh…we broke up.”

“What?” You asked, shocked. “Why?”

“...She wasn’t the biggest fan of how I react to Ward blowing himself up.” He explained, shifting in his spot. “She said I looked glad. And I didn’t want to lie to her and say I wasn’t. Because I was.”

“I mean, I get it.” You threw out, looking up at the stars in the sky. “He killed your dad. He killed a lot of people…I think it’s okay to be glad he’s dead. But I also get her side. He was her dad. But she can’t expect you to feel the same.”

“Exactly what I said.” Pope chipped in. “How sad can you expect someone to be when their father’s murderer dies and they get to see it?”

“I don’t think it was that, though.” John B spoke up, his brows pinched. “She said that out of all people, she thought that I’d understand what it’s like to lose a dad. And I do and I feel like a dick for not comforting her in that moment and giving Topper the opportunity to swoop in but…I feel like she didn’t even give me a chance to be there for her.”

“...Love is five minutes of pleasure for a lifetime of pain.” Pope said sadly, you and John B turning to him silently with wide eyes. The boy turned to the both of you, the same expression plastered on his face.

“Okay…” John B groaned, sitting up from his position and leaning on his arm.. “You and Kie, talk to me. What’s goin’ on?”

“Well…” Pope said, sitting up as well as you just looked up at the two guys. “She wants to be just friends.”

John B and you sighed simultaneously. “Whooo, death blow.” JB said to him. “Sorry, man.”

“It’s not like I can say I didn’t see it coming. After what happened in Charleston…” Pope was explaining before he cut himself off, his wide eyes darting to you as he pressed his lips shut. But John B’s curiosity was peaked, and so was yours.

“What happened in Charleston?” The brunette boy asked, looking between the two of you. 

Pope’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. You cocked an eyebrow, sitting up on your own elbow now. “So you did see it?”

Now he was the one looking confused, using his finger to point at you. “You saw it? I thought you were inside-”

“I was but I had just walked out when I saw them.”

“So, we both saw it?”

“Helloooo.” John B butted in, the two of you looking at him. “Third party is still here. Saw what?”

“The kiss.” You and Pope said at the same time, looking at him.

“Kiss? What kiss? Who kissed?” He asked, genuinely baffled.

“Kie and JJ.” The both of you said in sync again.

John B’s jaw dropped as he stuttered to find words. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding JJ?” He settled on his question, eyes on you.

“Yes…” You said squinting your eyes. “What would you know about that, though?” You asked, wondering when JB got the inside scoop on you and JJ’s newfound relationship.

“I mean, everyone could see he had a thing for you. For a looong time. Well, everyone but you…”

“Thank you.” Pope butted in, throwing his hands up in surrender when you shot him a glare. “I’m just saying, I wasn’t the only one who saw it.”

“And he kind of told me everything that happened while me and Sarah were gone.” John B smirked as you groaned. “But we’re getting off topic…” He waved his hands, dismissing the previous statements.

“Right.” Pope refocused. “I never said anything about the kiss to her or him. I just kind of hoped it was a spur of the moment thing and that it would just remain as that — a kiss. But then, she friendzoned me. And now I can’t help but think that she likes JJ. And I don’t know if JJ likes her, no offense Y/N...”

“He told me he doesn’t.” You butted in. “The day we got that call about what happened to your pops, we had an argument about it. He said that Kie initiated the kiss and it didn’t mean anything. To him, at least. I don’t know how much of it I believe but," You cut yourself off, shrugging. "And I can’t speak for Kiara…”

“Okay, here’s some not-so-friendly advice for the both of you from good ole Dr. Routledge,” John B piped up, a bright smile on his face. “You,” He pointed a Pope. “focus on your yourself and your books and…grades and shit. Forget about Kie, there’s plenty of fish in the sea. And you, Pope, are one handsome young man and I guarantee there is some girl out there willing to jump your bones and not kiss one of your best friends. And, you, little missy,” His attention turned to you. “If JJ says he doesn’t have feelings for her and the kiss didn’t mean anything, I’d believe him. He loves you and I don’t think he would do anything to purposefully screw up his chance with you. And please, for the love of God, be nice and talk to him. Hearing him whine about you not talking to him is going to drive me off a cliff.”

The three of you laughed before you turned to Pope, a light smile on your face. “So, you really just weren’t going to tell me?” You asked in faux-offense.

Pope faked shock, a hand on his chest. “Uh, me? I didn’t even know you and JJ had something going then. If anything, you should’ve been the one to tell me.”

“I didn’t want to upset you!” You laughed and groaned all at once.

“Yeah, yeah…” He waved you off lightheartedly. “Alright, next time we see something that would…affect the other person, we have to tell. Deal?” He asked, holding out his pinky.

“Ohhh, okay. We’ll be each others witnesses. I like this two person witness protection program.” You smiled, connecting your pinky with Pope’s. “Deal.”

YOU WERE IN THE GUEST ROOM WHEN THE DOOR CREAKED OPEN, a stream of light illuminating the dimly lit space — the only source of light being a bedside lamp. You thought everyone had gone to sleep.

Turning at the sound of the door, you found JJ closing the entryway behind him before he turned to you. You could hardly see his features, not enough light to see his face clearly. Neither of you said anything as he walked slowly towards you, walking around the bed. 

He stopped in front of you, just inches between the both of you. Nothing was to be heard except your breathing and the cicadas outside.

“...What’s wrong with you?” He asked. His voice sounded strained, like he’d been crying. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

You nodded, accepting his frustration towards you. Swallowing, you attempted to reply.  “...I didn’t think-”

“Yeah, you didn’t think.” JJ cut you off. “You left without telling anyone. You went there alone. Why would you do that?”

“He wasn’t supposed to be there-”

“Anything could’ve happened to you. Anything.” JJ reprimanded, shifting closer to you subconsciously. “Do you know what is was like to hear, from Pope, that’d you left to go to Barry’s trailer hours ago? That you hadn’t answered any of his calls or texts that you said you’d answer? To ride all the way there with my heart beating out of my damn chest just to rush in and find you passed out on the couch with the your pants unbuttoned, confirming every single fear-”

“Nothing happened-”

“But something could have!” He lost himself, looking around as if someone heard as he licked his lips, one tear rolling down his cheek. “He tried to, clearly, and something could have.” He sighed, letting himself sit on the edge of the guest room bed, his head in his hands. “...You didn’t even know who I was when we woke you up the first time to put you in the van. You didn’t recognize any of us. You were completely out of it. I've never seen anyone like that...” He told you. You don’t recall waking up more than twice. Voices and colors here and there but…not much. “I know…that you think I took your trust and feelings and ran with them. But you can’t do things like that.” He said firmly, lifting his head to look at you. “I’m not blaming you. I just want you to understand that even if you’re mad at me or whoever, you can’t just abandon ship. Especially, not like that.”

He told you, reaching his hands out to grab your waist and pull you closer as you sniffled. You felt almost completely sober as you stood between his legs, the aspirin you took earlier taking effect.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his teary blue eyes boring into yours as he looked up at you. You bit your lip from the inside of your mouth as you nodded. “Okay…good.” He sighed, letting his head fall in relief before looking at you again. “I know the last few days have been…hard. Especially today. And I’m sorry that I put you in a place where you couldn’t even trust me as a friend anymore. But I don’t know how else to tell you or show you that I love you. And today just made me realize how badly I need you and how far I’m willing to go for you.” He said softly. “...There were so many reasons I didn’t tell you about the kiss. For one, it didn’t mean anything to me. Also the fact that I didn’t want to cause drama between you and Kie. But none of that matters because there was only one reason that I should’ve told you — because you deserved to know and because I promised I would. So, I am really sorry.” 

You'd never heard JJ be this vulnerable and open. Or be so vulnerable and open this easily. It didn't seem practiced or rehearsed. It was like he was really letting his heart speak for him and right all his wrongs.

After what happened today, holding a grudge wasn't as appealing. Because you didn't know what could happen tomorrow.

“...I believe you. And I forgive you.” You said, eyes locked on his. “And I’m sorry, too. If I had told you guys where I was going then maybe-”

“Don’t even go there.” He stopped you, shaking his head. “Rafe is insane. What he and that fucking loser, Barry, did wasn’t your fault. You shouldn’t have gone there alone, sure, but what happened wasn’t your fault.”

You just sent him a half-hearted smile. You know he meant it but you still felt at least partially to blame. You licked your lips and took a deep breath before speaking, your hands rubbing up and down the blonde’s exposed arms. “JJ…” You spoke, more like whispered.

Something in the way you looked at him changed. Something in the way you felt for him changed. “...I want you.” You felt the boy tense in your arms, lifting his head up more to look you directly in the eyes. “I don’t need any more time. I know what I want and I know how I feel. I love you. And I want you.”

“...Are you sure? Because you just went through something really terrible tonight-”

“I’m sure.” You interrupted him. “If I keep waiting until nothing bad happens to be with you, then we’ll never be together. This is our lives now. And even if we didn’t have all this death and drama around us, I would still love you.” You reassured, trailing your hands up to his shoulders as his soothed themselves up and down your waist. “You said you were all mine. So, now I’m all yours, if you want me…”

He had a look on his face that you couldn’t decipher. His eyes looked at each of yours and then landed on your lips, seeming to trace them before pulling you down into him and colliding his lips with yours. A small noise of surprise leaving your lips before you melted into the exchange. Your hands slid around the nape of his neck as his trailed the length of your thighs, helping you onto his lap.

His fingers pressed into your skin, passionately dragging his prints into your skin as your nails scraped at the skin of his scalp and shoulders. The kiss wasn’t like the ones before. Those were soft and gentle, testing the waters. This kiss was hungry and prolonged — feverish. So starved of each other that it probably would’ve had the potential to lead to something else if the day had gone differently.

But knowing JJ, after what happened tonight, any kind of sex was off the table. Ad you weren't sure when you'd be ready to go that far. But this was good enough. More than good enough. There wasn’t a single part of either of you that wasn’t touching. You couldn’t help but sigh when his warm hand went up under your shirt, his fingers clawing at your back as he pressed you endlessly closer against him. 

You were confused when he pulled back — lips swollen and red as his hair stuck up in one-hundred different directions. He was breathing heavy when he spoke. “Sorry, sorry…” He said through labored breaths. “Just to be clear, you are my girlfriend, right-”

You couldn’t help but laugh and roll your eyes. “Yes, JJ, I’m your girlfriend.” You smiled. “I’m completely yours.” You sighed, eyeing his lips like an animal before connecting your lips with his once more, the both of you falling back into the mattress.

next chapter>

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

SVN Taglist; @esquivelbianca @fallingwallsh @calmoistorm @i-love-ptv @rafxcameronss @ldrvinyl @purplerose291 @heartsforandrewgarfield @coolgirl458 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @jujubeaz @ellobruv-blog @libertyybellls @c4ttheart @ihe4rttwd @redhead1180 @ditzyzombiesblog @spideysimpossiblegirl @sex-me-stiles @honeyiti @rafedrewandjjs @highformaybank @broidfk609 @sophiahristov @boo22sstuff @yourmumstoy @belle101200 @maybankskiss @starrsea @avengersgirllorianna @sekidekiboombeki @wearemadeofstardust0 @supercxnt @ifilwtmfc @maybankslover @walkinginthegalaxy @rivaiken @liability28 @highformaybank

(striked means i am unable to tag you, please check your settings to see if you have mentions restricted or disabled xo)

©loveharlow.

lmk if the taglist works now! xo

[sinofthesloth]

AAAAA i absolutely loved the 'running up and hugging them' hcs you wrote earlier this month :33 is there any chance you could do it again? with Leona and Idia? mayhaps? I would be oh so joyous ty!!!! also happy new year!!!

Hey, Sin here, I am so sorry this took so long to begin writing. I am currently on my "fall" break of college. I have missed writing for you guys so much.

ALSO, Idia's was kinda hard for me to write. I had so many different ideas that raced through my head. Most of which happened at work. Some many flew by that I began writing them on the backs of recipt paper. Sorry, his technically doesn't fit the prompt, but I think if someone ran at him, he'd fall over. Rich boy doesn't have muscles to keep himself steady.

Thank you for submitting this request and I do hope this is to your liking <333

Writing began: March 9th, 2024 Ended: October 1st, 2024 Content Warning: none Requested: Yep <3 Word count: 931 characters: Leona and Idia.

Leona

The hugs started after the spelldrive tournament. It was a joke in the beginning, just something you knew would get on his nerves enough to annoy him but not endanger yourself to his wrath. He'd glare and chuff at the unusual, but he never pushed you away. You always believed it had something to do with him keeping himself in check when it came to physical aggression.

Maybe he felt bad for his actions during his overblot or maybe he saw how everyone began taking more and more from you without offering any assistance, or maybe he was trying to find an excuse to hold you tightly as you wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your head into his chest.

It took weeks before he realized he began falling for you. Once he noticed it though, he was hooked with no way of backing out of it. This was a gradual build up. He would tug on your shirt at first. Just a handful and a quick grip and release. It wasn't a quick change but by the time he noticed was pulling you further into him and holding you until you pulled away, he couldn't stop himself. He enjoyed laying his head on yours as he held you after class. The shift was so gradual, you could really tell when he ever started hugging you back. This all started out as a way to annoy him anyway.

Leona, as if seeing the change in the wind, noticed the different ways you'd hug everyone else. You stopped rubbing your face into Deuce's or Ace's chest when the two of you hugged. You would give them quick side hugs but made sure to give him a full front facing hug before you had to leave, and lastly, you made sure to hug him before you left an area.

He could get used to this kind of solo attention.

Idia

It happened the first time out of pity. You had never met or seen him in person, and the more you saw his brother carrying a silent tablet, the more your heart went out for Ortho.

Ortho always talked quite highly of his brother. The more he boasted about his brother, the more people whispered. They whispered about the robot boy and his estranged brother.

You would let Ortho ramble. Sometimes, the man over the tablet spoke up to try and deter his brother's efforts, but no matter what was said, Ortho had a retort. When the tablet was eerily silent, Ortho was like a dam that had opened their flood gates after a hurricane. After each and every ramble session, you'd hug him and tell him you couldn't wait to meet his brother someday. It was said out of what felt like kindness, but it was pity, and you knew that deep down. You knew this man solely through his younger brothers eyes. A younger brother who talked extensively about how his brother made him and keeps up with his maintenance. Who's to say this isn't programmed into this little boys mind?

At the first meeting, Ortho ran to you for a hug. It was sweet, but the tall, slim figure a few feet away holding the hood of his hoodie over his head made you tense. Folks around here all have magic. One you couldn't identify meant danger in this world. Hell, ones you could have identified are dangerous.

Ortho pulled you to the man and introduced him to you. Idia stared at your hand as you lifted it for a hand shake. "Oh, don't be shy, Y/n, give him a hug too!" Ortho cheered, not sensing the tension and anxiety between the two of you. You hugged him, but the both of you were too much too stiff for it to look normal.

This is how almost every meeting went. The much taller boy never seemed to relax around you, but as you continued meeting, for Ortho's sake, you learned that this is just how he is. Your side of the hugs got less and less stiff while his remained taut.

"The only way he won't be so ridged in the hugs is if you surprise him!" Ortho commented. He was getting slightly huffy that his brother had yet to hug you properly, so to please the younger brother, you agreed to surprise him. But only once. You had surprised him with a soft hug from behind his gamer chair. He knew you were in the room before you touched him, but since he was focused on his game, his freak out was minimized. He patted your hand, and you let go. Afterward, the hugs were mainly from behind him while he was distracted.

He noticed how soft your hands were as they wrapped themselves around him. They never drifted away from his neck, scared to go too low, and didn't want to touch his chest.

You never ran at him like you did Ortho and the others. You treated him like a frighten cat at times. You'd always ask or make your presents known to him before hugging him. He knew you treated him differently, yet he couldn't bring himself to keep his ego in check. He'd message his discord friends about you, ask questions about what this meant, and why you acted like this with him. Ortho told him the same things long ago, but he never wanted to acknowledge that there might be something different between the two of you. He wanted a running hug, just once. But preferred knowing he was the only one that was gifted these soft, silent hugs.

[elixirfromthestars]

key: angst ☽ | fluff ☼ | 18+ ♡ | 500+ notes ✧ | 1,000+ notes ୨୧

─ ⊹ ⊱ Series ⊰ ⊹ ─

The Biker's Tulip ☼ ୨୧

biker!bucky x florist!reader

A small town. A biker and a florist, each one carrying the burdens of their past, and yet despite that, finding solace in one another along the way...

─ ⊹ ⊱ Two Parts ⊰ ⊹ ─

Conflict of Interest ☼ ☽ ✧

detective!bucky x lawyer!reader

After the many failed dates Natasha set you up on, you decide to give up on the dating scene all together. That is until Bucky makes it his mission to change your mind, but will he be enough to change it?

Part II ☼ ☽

After deserting Bucky at the fair, you are left dealing with the consequences. This becomes difficult as you are all assigned to a new case. 

A Night Of Frights and Delights ☼ ୨୧

athlete!bucky x artist!reader - college au

It's Friday the 13th and the college kids in town decided to host a weekend camping trip on the outskirts of town. Your best friend convinced you to go much to your reluctance. What could go wrong when the one guy you can't stand is also there?

Part II ♡ ☼ ✧

You and Bucky have danced around the lines you've placed ever since that weekend camping trip. Months later, when Tony Stark hosts an extravagant party, he finally makes a move to cross them.

─ ⊹ ⊱ Oneshots ⊰ ⊹ ─

One Call Away ☼

agent!bucky x journalist!reader

You’re a journalist in the late 1950s working for a gossip magazine. You write an article about the actor Steve Rogers, and his agent Bucky Barnes is not happy about it. He confronts you and offers you a deal.

In Five Years ☽

bucky x enhanced!reader

Bucky was having a hard time expressing his feelings about finally being free from the Winter Soldier program. To help him out, you suggested writing a letter to his future self and burying it in a time capsule to visit this moment again in the future. The plan was to open the time capsule five years from now. That was until Thanos showed up.

My Dearest ☼ ✧ ☽

duke!bucky x lady!reader

On the night of Lady Maximoff’s ball you find yourself in the gardens, troubled by your emotions. As if by fate, the rain pours down reuniting you with the one who is the very object of your troubles.

Written in the Stars ☼

bucky x avenger!reader - established relationship

Your boyfriend, Bucky, takes you on a date full of surprises under the stars.

Boulevard Confessions ☼ ✧

40s!bucky x nurse!reader

Being a third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn't your ideal Thursday night fun. However, when they tell you Bucky is tagging along you eagerly decide to join them. That is until a third party makes its presence known.

Sink Your Teeth In Me ♡☼✧

bucky x neighbor!reader

You and Bucky are supposed to attend Sam's party on Halloween. However, when you show up to his place looking like temptation itself—he gets other ideas on how to spend the night with you.

─ ⊹ ⊱ Drabbles ⊰ ⊹ ─

Together ☼ ✧

bucky x wife!reader

It’s been a month since you had a baby with your husband, Bucky. On the first day he went back to work, however, you can’t get her to stop crying—that is until Bucky comes home.

Fieldwork ☼ ☽

detective!bucky x lawyer!reader

You end up getting hurt while out in the field questioning a suspect. Thankfully, Detective Barnes is there to help. 

Lucky Day ☼

bucky x reader - college au

Bucky, your childhood best friend, takes you to a baseball game to thank you for helping him with his chemistry class. However, between bets and kiss cams, luck seems to be the real game being played.

Tranquility ☼

bucky x avenger!reader - established relationship

On your day off from saving the world, you decide to have a date in the park with your boyfriend Bucky.

⌞‼⌝ I do not give consent to have my work posted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. 

⌞‼⌝ All images/gifs used are not mine, and come from google unless specifically stated otherwise.​

⌞‼⌝ Heart divider by @/enchanthings

[blorbosinmyheadcentral]

your art makes me explode in a positive way like

im chewing and swallowing it in an aggressive way like

it's just SO good im melting ilove your shading and KEHEKEBEKJDJF

anwayshi hello do you happen to have any headcanons for showtime rolls on the floor and dies

Thank you so much, really appreciate it!

Oh God I don't know if this will read as coherent because my thoughts about Showtime are all over the place. But I'll try to format this the best I can

✨Showtime HCs! ✨

Their relationship starts when they start spending time together.

(The reason why they do so could vary. In Supervised Machine Learning's case, Pomni becomes something of a "tutor" to Caine; They discover that they work well together, and the other's company can be quite pleasant!).

So Pomni and Caine build a weird, but comforting friendship, and all is well.

Then the feelings appear.

Caine is the first to realize he fell in love.

It sounds illogical but hear me out… it'd be really funny--

Ok no seriously I think Caine can actually feel. Keyword "can". He's very much still a machine and it shows in the pilot. But like his inspiration (AM), Caine is also a rogue AI. Whatever his programming originally intended him to do, he probably doesn't follow it as closely now as back when he was created (which is a whole other post).

Caine knows what love is and the extend it can go, since the Moon is so open about her feelings. He just doesn't like the Moon back specifically haha (sorry Moon) :}

All this to say, I do believe this is within the realm of possibility for him. (Not that it's ever gonna happen towards anyone in the show. These are just wishful shippy thoughts).

He might not recognize it as love at first, because it manifests in such a different way from his one reference point.

His friendship with Pomni had gone through phases.

When they first met, he continuously touched her with no concern for how she felt.

Learning from and about Pomni herself led him to come to respect her boundaries (and becoming mindful of everyone else's).

Then they're close friends, and gradually, Pomni does not mind his regular wacky, touchy-feely self. So Caine acts as he had always done before.

Caine expresses his love for Pomni with physical gestures and his undivided attention.

When they teleport to travel to other places, he holds her close so she doesn't get too dizzy; he pats her head to reassure her; he touches her arm to get her attention; he grabs her hands when he's excited about her ideas; he holds eye contact for prolonged periods of time; and he touches, and touches, and touches, and touches.

It's selfish, and so he keeps it buried in his deepest 0's and 1's. But he'd like to keep hanging out with Pomni, having her in his sight, and feel the texture of her gloved hands until the end of time.

Despite all this, to him, virtually nothing changed.

What? He's spending time with Pomni as he'd always been doing, and behaving as he'd always behaved!

It's Bubble of all people that has to point out that, "Hey boss. I think you WANT her!"

Absurd. Nonsense. Preposterous! It is merely a relationship of mutual support and affection between a ringmaster and his trusted, former-human companion. Nothing more.

(Declaring his love to her unprompted didn't ever cross his mind, so there's no way it could be that. Is there?)

Caine finds out that yes, there is.

Pomni had always been a nervous wreck, but her mind state becomes more manageable over time. She eventually adjusts to the circus life like everyone else did.

"Accepting" her fate is a different story. The will to escape, to remember, never really leaves. She's just more careful about it.

So when she starts working with Caine - to improve life so people don't go abstracting anymore, and hopefully find a definitive exit - she's not expecting to end up liking her time with him.

Not that she'd absolutely hate it, either. He's… "okay"… Just-- outlandish, loud, he keeps invading her personal space, he keeps touching her, and it makes her die a little every time.

If he's up to listening, though… it can't be that bad, right?

Turns out that no, it wasn't that bad.

Yes, he is outlandish, loud, he keeps invading her personal space and touching her. But she explains what she means to him, clearly and patiently, and he makes an effort to do better. An actual effort.

Sometimes he'd misinterpret what she meant - the ambiguity of human language - and the new games would go horribly. But little by little, his efforts make life overall better. Something reminiscent of actual, real life, the one they've all forcibly left behind.

And he tries, and he tries, and Pomni finds herself enjoying the process as much as the good results.

Pomni likes Caine's eagerness to learn. His enthusiastic attitude borders on silly, and the absurdity makes her laugh on occasion. When faced with the prospect of a "real" exit, she loves his upbeat optimism.

When she's not hanging out with Ragatha, Jax, Gangle, Zooble and Kinger, she begins to enjoy spending quality time with Caine.

Each one of their hang outs is a new surprise. They make a picnic in the tallest mountain exactly in between day and night. They learn to dance - while floating in the air. "Since you asked, here's a DIGITAL camera! Let's take pictures of the Void for one tenth of a second at a time!"

Sometimes he just comes by Pomni's room, and they end up losing track of time. Just chatting about how things have been, what they could be, and what to do next. Ideas and ideas and ideas.

Before Pomni knows it, she's comfortable enough that recalling his old habits makes her not dread them anymore. So when Caine stands close and lightly touches her arm due to oversight, she makes sure he knows it's all right.

And they keep spending time together, and he touches, and touches, and touches her. Pomni, in turn, feels lighter, and lighter, and lighter. Peaceful, at ease. Dare she say, happy, even.

Life is not perfect. As it stands though, it's good enough. No one has abstracted. No one is at risk of abstracting so far.

Progress is slow, but the research for an exit continues, and she is hopeful. The thought of actually leaving grows closer to reality. But a part of her feels heavy.

When it occurs to Pomni that leaving the Amazing Digital Circus means leaving Caine behind, she is alarmed by how much she'll miss him.

It'll hurt. Badly. So much the thought pains her even now.

The moment Pomni realizes this, she comes to the unexpected conclusion that she may like Caine a little more than she thought she would.

This later leads to an interesting discussion with Ragatha.

By the time Pomni comes to that conclusion, Caine is already down bad.

Neither has any idea that the other is in love with them.

Cue dumbasses trying to deal with their feelings while the potential conflict the escape brings looms over their heads.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk!

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 79)

Uzi was sitting on the couch, burying her face in an aeronautical engineering book for the umpteenth time. Sketching out ideas for heat shielding on a notepad, Tera on her lap, inquisitivly watching her mother draw and holding onto her bat plushie.

If she was being honest with herself (which, of course she wasn't) she would admit that it was somewhat difficult now for Tera to sit on her lap like she used to, her baby bump was now fairly obvious, she could still… somewhat, hide it underneath her hoodie, but even then if someone was paying close enough attention they would notice that something was different.

And it was of course at this moment, V crashed into her apartment. The door whipping open suddenly and startling both girls out of their shells. Tera chirped loudly and Uzi very nearly cursed.

“Back, took pictures.” V said bluntly, making Uzi take a deep breath to surpress the urge to beat her over the head with whatever she had in her hand. (A notebook, it wouldn't hurt, but still.)

“Okay. A. Thank you.” Uzi hummed, before her face fell “B. Bite me! You didn't have to scare the crap out of me!” She grumbled, standing up and resting Tera on her shoulder. V smirked, before her eyelights shifted down to Uzi's midsection.

“Huh. You can actually tell now.” She commented, which immediately made Uzi feel self conscious, she wouldn't lie and say that the visible change to her body wasn't off-putting.

“It hasn't been that long since you saw me.” Uzi pouted, turning slightly away from her ‘freind’. V clicked her tongue.

“How are you holding up?” V asked, ignoring her statement and tone much, much softer.

“Fine. Still don't know why you care so much.” Uzi replied, and V looked at the floor for a moment before Uzi got several pictures sent to her over short range, she filed them in a folder titled ‘MYSFLESH:/’

“’Fine’ isn't an answer.” V pointed out, crossing her arms, her attitude was normal grating on Uzi's nerves, but with everything else she had to stress about, it was genuinely beginning to piss her off.

“It's the only one you're getting. Now if you're finished doing everything in your power to make my day harder. I need to look over these pictures.” Uzi turned away, from the door, a sure way to tell V to fuck off, but unfortunately that did not happen.

“You're carrying, N can't be here all the time. It's… It's my responsibility to fill in when he's not here.” Uzi tensed up at V's words, hitting her like a sack of bricks.

“Your responsibility?” Uzi parroted back at her, whipping around to glare into V's visor. “Why is it your responsibility?”

V, for once, looked genuinely nervous about what she was about to say, her tail pressed flat against the floor.

“I don't-” She growled at herself, as if she was fighting her own programing. “It just is! I don't know how to explain it!” She finished, exasperated and throwing her clawed hands forward, showing more emotion then Uzi had ever seen.

“It's unbearable!” Her tail suddenly sprang up, kinking in several places before it went back into its default position. “I don't wanna be here either, but it's so much worse when I'm not!” She yelped, like a dam that had just cracked.

Uzi stepped back, alarmed at the sudden outburst. V began to pace back and forth.

“I-I think the worst part is that I don't entirely hate it! I want to! But you're not actually terrible, you're stubborn as hell and get on my nerves-” V grunted, whatever was making her agitated seemed to suddenly deflate, making her stop her pacing and rest her head within the palm of her clawed hand.

“Ugh. Freaking- God Dammit. I don't actually hate your guts, and I do actually care if you live or die. Happy?” V finished, a small golden blush displaying on her visor, crossing her arms.

Uzi took a moment to process, before snickering into her hand, making V blush harder and growl irritability.

“Do not.” V warned, but now her threats were empty, they always were, but now there was no pretending otherwise.

“Aww. V, that's like, the nicest thing you've ever said to me.” Uzi smirked, watching at V's tail thrashed like whip, displaying her discomfort.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” V replied, breifly looking away before her eyes came to glance at Uzi from the corner of her visor, Uzi was smiling.

And so was V.

-*-

“Alright. Alright. Settle Down!” Khan was standing up a stage set up in the WDF training course. The aforementioned equipment haven been deconstructed and put away, the rows of seating in it's ‘stadium-esque’ design being perfect for holding a bunker wide meeting.

Speaking of bunker-wide, every drone that made their home within the bunker was scattered throughout the seats, a rainbow of different eyelight colors staring back at him, even so seeing everyone in front of him made what he already knew more obvious.

There weren't a lot of them left…

The soft murmur of voices quieted, and Khan cleared his throat, looking back behind him to the other two drones with him. Uzi, sitting with her legs crossed and arms crossed, refusing to look ahead at their audience. And N, who was standing at stiff attention at her side, for once, Tera was not with them. Instead, V was looking after her, offering almost immediately.

He turned back to his audience, taking a deep breath.

“Thank you all for coming. I know everyone is curious on why I called this emergency meeting. So I won't waste time.”

He nodded to N, who nodded back and lifted his hand. A large yellow hologram of Copper-9 appeared above them, enough for everyone to see, it drew so much power from N's systems his eyelights and headband dimmed and he winced.

“This is our home, we've worked, fought, and made lives here for over a hundred years, not always independent, but always here.” Khan’s voice wavered.

“Right now, however, this is what our home looks like.”

With some effort on his part, N's hologram changed, one hole opening up, then another, and two more, until the surface of the planet was reminiscent of Swiss cheese, pockmarked full of holes. Images provided by V's scouting trip.

And out of each one, tentacles reached up out of them, pulsing and wiggling wildly, the audience gave a collective wince, several people gasped. And a few straight up burst into tears.

“After through study, it has been determined that twenty percent of the planet has already been consumed, the rest will follow within six months… give or take.” He continued, the waver in his voice was obvious now, but he powered through. N changed the hologram again, letting a fleshy substance cover the frozen surface of Copper-9.

“My daughter has come up with a plan; one that I will let her explain.” He suddenly turned to Uzi, N's hologram fading out and his glow returning to near normal, though an exhausted look flickered across his face.

Uzi took a deep breath, replacing her father's place on stage, feeling the mic attached to her shirt, heavy as lead.

“I know I don't have the best reputation.” She started, her voice croaking slightly. She balled up one of her hands, all the eyes boring into her as she felt her core speed up. “You all know me as Khan’s outcast, rebellious daughter, the one that brought the murder drones into the bunker.”

And so, so much more

She thought internally.

“But believe me when I tell you I want every single person here to make it out of this situation alive.” She nodded at N, who gave her a small smile before, with another wince, brought up another large hologram.

This one was of a shuttle, large enough to fit the entire bunker, though still very much only a concept.

“The cause of the infection is currently unknown, but the flesh that's spreading across the surface is deadly, contact with it causes rapid assimilation, and a loss of all bodily autonomy.” She paused for a moment, realizing she was speaking as if she was reading out of textbook.

“Zombification, in layman's terms.” She clarified, the audience was dead silent, but with another steadying breath and an even tighter grip on her own palm, she continued. “Our best option is complete planetary evacuation.”

There was a murmur through the crowd, one that Uzi was expecting.

“I hear you. This is our home, we've always lived here. And that kind of change is scary.” She was happy she had pre-written this speech with the help of her dad, otherwise, she would have definitely flubbed something up by now.

She had to give credit where credit was due, Khan knew how to write a speech.

“But leaving is a chance at survival, more then that, it's our chance to truly divorce ourselves from our past as nothing but tools for our creators.” At that she could hear several affirmative mumbles, she thought that might have been a good addition, there were many old drones that still remembered being slaves.

“From today, my plan is to build an escape shuttle, reverse engineering the landing pods already here to head to somewhere where we can start again.” N's hologram showed an image of a landing pod, before switching to a new planet, one covered in greenery instead of ice.

“Without all of us working together, this won't work, so I'm asking each and every one of you to pull together for this. Not for me, but for your family, your neighbors, your friends. And help make this a reality.”

She finished, finally, feeling satisfied with what she had said.

“Those in favor. Head down to the right of the stadium. Those opposed, to the left.”

Despite at this point needing to sleep for several sunlit days, N gave a last hologram, two arrows pointing left and right.

Uzi took the opportunity to check up on him, walking back towards him with a concerned frown.

“You okay? I know you haven't been sleeping well, and that took a lot of energy.” With everyone gathering below the stage, Uzi felt safe enough to place a hand on his chest. He gave a small smile.

“I'm good.” His hand came up into a thumbs up even as Uzi could see the ‘low charge’ symbol blinking at the corner of his visor. “You passed out this morning, I should be asking you.”

His hand came to rest on her baby bump, giving her a very tired grin as the hologram flickered slightly. “Baby has you exhausted too, I'm really proud of you for making this speech.”

She blushed, taking another glance around to insure no one was watching them.

“Let's just hope it was worth it..” Uzi blinked, did… did she just say that twice? Because it was either that or… the mic was still on.

She gasped, looking down at the mic attached to her, still blinking green, showing that it was indeed on. She looked back up at N, who looked equally as shocked. And she quickly turned it off, looking back at her dad, who had apparently been trying to get her attention this entire time, and now was just smiling sheepishly.

The stadium was dead silent.

Like a character in a horror movie, she slowly went to check on the rest of the stadium, the seats now all empty. She peered over the side and-

Not a single person was present on the left, every single drone voting in favor of Uzi's plan, when she was noticed back within view, she got cheers, she could hear congratulations mixed in with the “you go girl”s and straight cheers.

She began to tear up a moment of relief hitting her before the mortification she just announced her pregnancy in front of the entire bunker caught up.

She looked back at N, his hologram now gone, while he shrugged his shoulders with a smile, although a look on his face that was asking ‘are you alright’

No was the answer.

But even still, the plan was set in motion.

Next ->

[kissingghouls]

hi ghouls! so sorry you've had such a rubbish weekend. i hope this week is much brighter for you 🫂💕

for the ~cute interactions~ prompts: maybe something with mary holding hands/playing with each other's fingers? my mary heart yearns for something soft 😭 sending you love 💕

oh boy. This one got away from me more than once and now I've got several Mary WIPs in the folder. more Goore '24 continues I suppose. @sakuraspoke - you can absolutely have some soft Mary my beloved. thank you so much for the kind words 🖤🖤🖤

2 a.m. - Mary Goore x gn!Reader

established relationship, he/they Mary, darlin & babe used for Reader. a little suggestive but no real warnings. just 850-ish words of fluff and kissin' div by @gothdaddyissues 🖤🖤🖤

It’s late when Mary quietly tiptoes into your apartment and moves through the shadows. They’re trying not to make any noise, taking slow but giant steps to avoid the creaking spots in the floorboards while balancing that ridiculously heavy guitar case. But your boyfriend—sweet as his is—has always been blessed with more charm than grace and it’s a good thing you weren’t really asleep anyway.

You stir from your spot on the sofa, lit by the soft glow of some gruesome true crime story playing on the television. The sudden movement startles them and sends them stumbling over their own feet in a comical display of flailing limbs. He lands with a loud thud as one of his boots flies across the room, the other still secured to his foot.

A sheepish smiles creeps across his face as he looks up at you from the floor. “I’m sorry, babe,” he whispers, trying desperately not to laugh at his own clumsiness. “I was trying not to wake you.”

“It’s ok,” you reply sleepily. I wasn’t sleeping.”

He nods and returns to the task of taking off his other shoe. “What’re you doing out here on the couch?”

“Just watching TV.”

He grins and shakes a few messy strands of hair away from his face. “Are you waiting up for me?”

You give a noncommittal shrug as he crawls on hands and knees, dragging himself the short distance across the floor to reach you. He comes to rest with a groan, leaning against the sofa as he stretches his legs as far as he can after a ridiculously busy day.

“Ugh, I’ve been standing for like, twelve hours.”

“Poor baby,” you hum and run a hand through their hair. There’s no teasing is your statement. You know Mary hates days like this. You hate days like this, hate seeing them so exhausted they’re literally crawling on the floor. “Wanna come sit with me?”

They shake their head. “Can’t move. Plus, I kinda smell disgusting darlin.”

“I kinda don’t care, Goore.”

“Your funeral,” he grunts as he stands.

He throws himself over you, wedging his skinny hips between your back and the sofa. His skin is slightly sticky with old sweat and fake blood, shirt still damp from playing in a bar where ventilation is more of a joke. Most of that cologne you like is covered by the thick smell of smoke and beer, but you couldn’t care less now that he’s home. As he drapes an arm around your middle, you lace your fingers with his.

“Better?” you ask.

Mary tightens his grip and buries his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. “Mmph, you smell nice.”

“Makes one of us.”

“Hey, I tried to warn you.  Not my fault you didn’t listen.”

Across the room, the narrator of a different program begins to talk about happier things while you lose yourself in the comfort of just being next to Mary. You run your fingertips over the thick calluses on his hands, appreciating every little piece of your boyfriend—the rough spots and the sweet spots and everything in between. It doesn’t matter how late it is or how dirty his clothes currently are. You live for the little moments like this, the times where you’re the only two people in the universe and the world outside your apartment no longer exists. You’d stay here forever if you could, but reality is cruel and one of you should probably be a realist.

He groans as you press your thumbs into his palm and start to massage away the aches he’s kept quiet for the last week at least.

“Fuuuuck,” he whines quietly. “I don’t deserve you.”

“I think you deserve the world, Mary Goore.”

They laugh lightly, breath tickling your ear. “I dunno, I might just start with a shower.”

“Fine,” you grumble. “Can you just stay here a little longer first?”

“I’m never going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

He pulls you closer, turning his hand over to lock his fingers with yours. “To our graves, darlin. Then I’m gonna haunt you.”

“That might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Hmm, romantic enough to get you to shower with me?”

“Yeah, I think you’ve earned it.”

“Heh. I mean it though, you know.”

“What? That you wanna take a shower together?” you tease.

“Well, yeah. But forever, I mean. You and me.”

“Mary,” you start quietly, voice shaking as you fight tears.

“I know, I know. Marshmallow Goore.”

“I love you.”

“Yeah?” they ask, and you can hear the smile in their voice.

A soft “mmhmm” is all you can manage as you nod.

“Good, because I really fuckin’ love you, darlin.”

You scramble to turn in his arms, lips crashing together in a clumsy and desperate effort to get even closer to each other. They bring their hands to your face as tongues clash and your legs begin to tangle in the ensuing rush. It’s hurried and heated, too excited to be anything else and too soul-bearingly honest for any more words. There’s barely space for breaths between each kiss, the two of you left dizzy and lightheaded all the way to your bathroom.

I just wanna add a thank you to everyone who's sent prompts & requests. I'm having fun learning how to make things in these shorter forms between my normally huge projects. I might properly open up requests in the future if anyone is interested?

[the-little-ewok]

Clandestine

Poe Dameron X Fem!Reader

Rating : E / 18+

Word count : 2400 (ish)

Warnings : Smut. PIV, fingering, semi-public sex, tiny bit of needy!Poe, reader wears a dress, illusions to lack of self confidence, praise kink, cock warming

Summary: Poe can't keep his eyes, or his hands off you during a party....

(Alternatively a discussion was had about staining Poes trousers when he decides he can't wait to have you in private...)

A/N : Yea I'm still mostly on hiatus, but after a bit of lovely feedback from my Discord loves, I am sharing this with you all.

No longer using a taglist because it's out of date.

Forgive any mistakes. It's not beta'd and I'm bad at finding my own mistakes.

It was no secret that Poe hated these type of events with a passion, and so it should be no surprise that he had situated himself in the corner furthest from the dance floor, mostly hidden in darkness, sipping his drink as he watched the party begin to reach its peak.

He'd agreed to go only because you asked him, and for the most part, he had been the perfect partner throughout the dinner, apart from the fact he had politely refused to leave the table to dance. Instead he seemed content to sit quietly eyeing you in the dim lighting.

"Stop that," you scold, for what feels like the hundredth time since the pilot had seen you this evening.

"Stop what?" He grins, raising an eyebrow, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he eyes you with blatant, feral desire.

"Looking at me." You fidget under his gaze, adjusting your dress and trying not to let him fluster you, although the heat prickling at your skin lets you know you are failing on that front.

"I'm admiring," he clarifies, sipping his drink without ever taking his eyes off you.

The moment you had walked out of the fresher in this dress, he'd all but drooled over you. You still vividly remembered the way his mouth had fallen open, his eyes taking in every inch of your body — more than once — before he regained the ability to speak. You had fidgeted under his gaze, feeling suddenly self conscious in your choice of outfit, which was a little more daring than your usual attire.

"Jess helped me pick it," you had mumbled, as though it explained everything.

"Well we arn't going to the party." He had stated after a drawn out silence, swallowing hard.

You had frowned, confused, but before you had a chance to ask, he had pulled you into his arms, his mouth on yours, his hands cupping your ass as he held you against him, begging you to let him view your dress on the bedroom floor, while he buried himself inside you.

Much to his disappointment, and if you were honest, your own too, you had managed to wriggle out of his grip, and firmly told him that he could do whatever he wanted with you, and your dress, after the party. The look he had given you would make anyone think you had told him BB-8's programming had failed.

So to the party you had come, and enjoyed it, with one glaring problem — he had barely taken his eyes off you, all night. Everytime you glanced over at him during conversation he was, for all intense purposes, absolutely eye fucking you.

You had no idea, until you met Poe, what being so openly desired could do to you. He riled you up with just a look and Maker, he was so damn hard to say no to. More than once you had to curl your fingers against your thighs under the table, willing yourself to have some control and stop your thoughts wandering to the way he was dragging his tongue along the Meiloorun fruit served for dessert. You were thankful when they finally cleared away the plates.

"Well, admire something else," you answer, keeping your eyes trained on the dance floor lights, trying not to give in to your desires.

"I can't," he practically hisses, leaning close to you. "You have no idea how much I can't."

"Poe." It's half a warning for him to stop, but the flicker in his eyes lets you know he knows he's starting to get to you. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't regretted turning him down earlier this evening. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't considered faking some illness to leave the party early. But you had promised to come, and now you were here you had to stick it out, at least until a decent time.

He holds your gaze as his hand slips into yours, firm and comforting, even as he eyes you hungrily.

"Come sit with me. At least let me hold you," he whispers softly, sweetly, dangerously. You know exactly where he's about to put you, and why. Yet you don't stop him when he pulls you out of your seat, and guides you to sit on his lap.

You let out a soft gasp at the feel of his hard cock pressed against your ass, realising exactly what he meant by "can't".

"I need you," he whispers, almost sinfully, in your ear. "I need you, now." His nose brushes against the column of your neck, from your collarbone to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. It's so much harder to ignore him now, to try and reason with him.

"Poe, we are in public!" It's barely a protest, your body already responding to his, your pussy clenching at the thought of his cock buried deep inside you, here, in a hall full of people. It shouldn't excite you as much as it does.

"I can't wait," he groans. "Please baby, it's been like this all night. Please. I need to be inside you." His tone is needy, begging, desperate.

It's thrilling, knowing you can pull that out of him.

"I'll be good to you," he promises, his hands already hitching up your dress under the table, splaying them warm against your thighs. "You know how good I can be to you."

The shiver of desire that runs through you at his words is completely involuntary. You can't stop it, no more than you can stop the way your heart gallops, and butterflies erupt in your stomach as his promise, and the memories of previous similar promises it revives.

"If anyone sees…" you trail off with a pleasured sigh as he kisses your neck, just below your ear.

"They won't," he states confidently, as though the table were a wall between you and the party.

You want to argue that he has no way of knowing, that this is a terrible idea, that you should wait, but you're too far gone, lost in the way his mouth feels against your pulse point, sucking a mark to claim you.

His hands, already pressed against the skin of your thighs, start a slow journey up, taking his time to squeeze your flesh lightly, enjoying the warmth of you against his palms, lightly pressing them open for him.

When he finally slips a hand between your legs, he lets out a sudden breath, as though the air has been punched from his lungs.

"Fuck," he hisses, his fingers skimming against your bare flesh, collecting the wetness already gathered there, and dragging up to brush against your clit.

You expect him to be smug about it, to tease you about how easily riled you are, how you want this as much as he does, but the pilot seems to have been struck dumb by your lack of underwear and only succeeds in a low whine against your neck, his hips rutting up into you, desperate for friction against his aching cock.

Your own gasp, as he slips a finger easily into you, curling against your walls, is thankfully covered by the music. He gives you a moment to school your expression, lest anyone notice, before he slowly, almost lazily withdraws it, moving up to circle your clit, before back down to sink two fingers into you.

"Shouldn't have let you leave the room," he grumbles against your neck as you squirm on his lap, his fingers stretching you open with practised ease. His hands know your body better than your own, and it takes him absolutely no time at all to have you struggling to contain your moans of pleasure.

Leaning into you he licks your neck, making you shudder with need.

"Can I fuck you now?"

You should say no, make your excuses and leave, pick this back up in your room. He's giving you an out, a way to stop this before it goes further than you're comfortable with. But you find you don't want to stop. In fact, you very much don't want to stop.

"Yes," you breathe out, rolling your hips against the straining bulge in his trousers. He curses, and within moments his fingers are removed and he's scrambling to unbutton his trousers, freeing his cock with some careful manuveting from you.

His hands find your hips, steadying you as you position yourself, your back to his chest, leaning your hands on the table, trying to look as innocent as possible.

Taking a breath you bite your lip hard as you sink down onto his waiting cock, taking things slow despite his desperation, and now yours. Both of you know drawing too much attention to yourselves would not be pleasant.

Poe's teeth sink into your shoulder, stifling his groan against your skin as you settle back on his lap. The bite of pain makes you clench around him and the pilot lets out a choked noise of surprise, his hips jolting against yours, pressing him deep inside you.

"Shit baby, don't do that," he warns, taking a trembling breath. "Not unless you want this over really qui-nghh!"

You can't help but do it again and the torturous sound he lets out is more than worth it.

"Stop," he gasps "I don't wanna rush this". But you aren't listening to him. He's pushed you this far and now you're on edge, your body crying out for a blissful release you know he can give you. It just feels too damn good to tease him.

You clench again, and this time earns you a low growl that sends electric through your nerves.

You're expecting him to thrust up into you, hard and deep, the way he usually would when you tease him this way, but instead his arms hold tight against your waist, pulling you down into his lap as he grinds up into you, slowly.

It's so much better….or worse. He adjusts his hips until his cock brushes up against that one blissful spot inside you, constantly. It's never ending. No amount of squirming or wriggling allows you a moment from the pressure. It's too much and not enough. It turns the tables in an instant, and you can't help the whimper that passes your lips.

"Good girl, taking me so well," he praises, clearly trying to keep his breathing steady as he rolls his hips into you again. "Letting me have you here, where anyone can see us."

You have to fight to stop your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he whispers in your ear, your hands dropping from the table to grip his arms so hard you're sure the nail marks will still be there tomorrow.

"Driving me crazy in this dress. Lookin' like the hottest fucking thing. Fuck baby, you're so good to me, letting me do this," he slurs, his voice progressively more wrecked and quiet as he rambles on. Or maybe it's your hearing that's the problem. Suddenly all you can concentrate on is the base of the music as it vibrates through your veins, the press of his cock inside you, the weight of his arms around your waist, the pleasure surging through you.

You completely lose all sense of what he's saying to you, desperatly trying not to cry out his name aloud, or throw yourself forwards onto the table so he can pound into you. Instead you try your best to stay as still as you can, as calm as you can, while Poe seemingly does everything he can to make you a screaming mess.

Each grind of his hips is blissful torture. The pleasure builds and builds. The wave gets higher with each slow roll of his hips, your nerves on fire, your muscles taunt and aching, but there's no release. It's blissful and terrifying all at once. It holds you on the precipice, tiptoeing the edge but never allowing the tide to claim you.

He pushes you almost to the point where it's too much, to where you're almost sure you can't take any more, to where your considering begging him for release. But before you have chance his hands are suddenly grasping at your dress, pulling it up out of the way to press his fingers against your clit.

"Cum for me. Cum now," he demands.

And you do. Oh, you do.

You gasp, choking back your moan as your hands fly to grip the edge of the table, so hard your knuckles go white, as the cresting wave finally crashes down over you. Thighs trembling, toes curling, back arching, your eyes flutter shut as your climax rockets through you, uncaring who notices your reaction, lost in the bliss that seems to go on, and on.

You feel Poe's cock throb as he empties himself deep inside you, muting his own climax against your neck, his fingers digging painfully into your thighs as he continues to grind into you with the same slow, deep roll of his hips, riding out both your highs until you come down.

When you finally open your eyes your gaze flickers around the room, quickly checking if anyone had noticed either of you, but everyone seems thankfully lost in their own business. You left out a sigh of relief, your body sagging back against Poe's in sudden exhaustion.

"Told you nobody would see," he mumbles as he nuzzles your neck affectionately.

"You're lucky," you smile, turning your head to capture his lips in a soft kiss.

"I am very lucky," he nods seriously, before the edge of his lip tugs up in a cheeky half smile. "Thanks for helping me take care of that problem. I'll repay the favour later tonight… or now?"

You let out a strangled noise as Poe's fingers brush against the inside of your thighs, too close to where his softening cock is still buried inside you, unsure if you want to go again, or if you need a minute to recover. You feel the pilot smile against your neck as you twitch and squirm on his lap. Placing a soft solitary kiss to your damp skin he sighs.

"I'm sorry baby but it seems you might have made quite the mess. You're soaked everywhere." There's an undeniable smirk in his voice that lets you know he's anything but sorry about it, or his part in it. And now he's mentioned it, you can feel it — the slick warmth coating your skin, the evidence of both your climaxes seeping out. There's no denying it must be covering his lap as well as your own, and it makes an embarrassed heat prickle across your skin.

Before you can apologise, his arms wrap around your waist, anchoring you in place, unable to leave his lap as he brings his mouth to your ear. You shiver at his words, body tensing in anticipation.

"I guess you'll just have to sit right there until the party's over."

~~~~~

If you enjoyed reading please, please, leave a comment, or reblog and tell me your thoughts! You opinion, even incoherent letters, or little GIFs, is invaluable to writers. Otherwise we feel we did a shit job and we don't write anymore ;)

Thanks for reading!

[enhyhoonie]

DIET PEPSI (part 1)

Pairing: Racer!Sunghoon x female!reader

Genres: Serie, College!au, Racing!au, smut, ennemies to lovers, !nsfw!

Triggers: Bad language, illegal activities, smut

WC: 4.4k

A/N: I'm an inconsistent writer sorry about that :') I listenned to Diet Pepsi from Addison Rae and that's basically how i got the inspo lmao. THERE'S MORE DON'T WORRY <3

Synopsis : Sunghoon’s fingers traced lightly along my jawline, his touch sending shivers down my spine. His eyes were dark, almost predatory, as they locked onto mine.

“Still trying to play the innocent, huh?” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. “Tell me, Y/n, is this really what you want?”

I looked away, struggling to keep my voice steady. “You think you know me so well. But you’re just playing games.”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Games? Maybe. Or maybe I’m just giving you a taste of what you’ve been craving all along.”

I shivered as his hand slid down my side, his touch lingering with a mix of arrogance and seduction. “I’m not here to fulfill your fantasies,” I retorted, though my voice trembled slightly.

Sunghoon leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my neck. “Funny,” he whispered, “because it seems like you’re exactly where I want you. So tell me, how much more do you want to deny it?”

His words were like a caress, both maddening and irresistible. As his hands explored my body, the tension between us crackled with undeniable heat. I could feel my resolve slipping, leaving me to grapple with the dangerous allure of his touch.

“What are your plans for summer break?” Fia asked, tossing her clothes into her suitcase.

“I’m not sure yet… probably looking for a summer job,” I replied thoughtfully. “What about you?”

“I’m heading to my boyfriend’s place for the summer. It’s just a few kilometers from the dorm,” she said with a grin.

“You’re leaving me here?” I said with a mock pout. “It’ll be strange not having you around for two months.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” Fia teased with a mischievous smile. “I’m not vanishing completely. I’ll be back from time to time to work on some assignments, and we’ll definitely catch up.”

“Well, now that you mention it, I think I’ll focus on studying as much as I can this summer,” I said.

Fia rolled her eyes dramatically. “Come on, it’s summer break! The last thing you should be doing is burying yourself in books. We’re supposed to have fun!”

I frowned slightly. “I take my studies very seriously. Fine art has always been my dream.”

Fia placed a hand on my shoulder, her tone softening. “A little fun won’t ruin your grades. You’re the top student of your degree. You’ve earned a break.”

I paused, contemplating her words. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right…”

“Of course I am!” she said with a playful nudge.

Fia was right. From the start of the program, I’d poured my heart into being the best. My drive for perfection earned me a scholarship to the University of Applied Arts and a spot on campus. It was time to enjoy this well-deserved summer break.

“Oh, by the way,” Fia said, “this weekend, my boyfriend invited me to a car race he’s participating in. You should come with me!”

I blinked in surprise. “But isn’t that kind of thing illegal?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry. It’s not the first time they’ve done this, and it’ll be packed with people. It’ll be a blast!”

“Fia, I’m not sure—”

“No arguments,” she interrupted with a firm tone. “Consider it an order.”

I sighed, feeling resigned. “Alright, fine.”

“Who knows, maybe you’ll find a hook up,” Fia said with a teasing grin.

I winced. “No thanks. I’ve got more important things to think about.”

Fia just laughed and went back to packing. “Just saying!”

The weekend finally arrived, and with it, the excitement of the car race that Fia and I were about to attend with her boyfriend, Leo. Early that evening, Leo showed up at the dorm to pick us up. His sleek, matte black sports car gleamed under the streetlights, a perfect match for his look.

“Ready for the race?” Leo asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

I managed a nervous smile. “I think so. I’ve never been to something like this before.”

Fia squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Y/n. Leo’s been looking forward to this for weeks. It’s going to be a night to remember!”

The drive took us out of the city and into a more rugged, secluded area. As we approached, the landscape transformed from urban sprawl to an open, abandoned parking lot illuminated by harsh floodlights. The place was alive with the hum of engines and the murmur of an excited crowd.

Leo parked his car and motioned for us to follow. We made our way through the crowd of racing enthusiasts and racers who darted around. The makeshift racetrack was set up in the lot, a stark contrast to the surrounding darkness, and it was buzzing with a palpable energy.

“I need to check on the car,” Leo said. “You two find a good spot to watch.”

Fia and I wandered towards the viewing area, navigating through the crowd. I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the scene. The smell of gasoline and burnt rubber was strong, mingling with the cool night air.

“Are you alright?” Fia asked, noticing my nervousness.

“Yeah, just a bit out of my element,” I admitted, glancing around at the throngs of people and roaring engines. “This is way more intense than I expected.”

Fia smiled and squeezed my arm. “You’ll get used to it. Leo’s really fired up tonight. And speaking of which, you should see the guy he’s racing against.”

Just then, a tall, imposing figure appeared near the track. He stood beside a sleek, silver racing car that seemed to glimmer under the floodlights. His presence was magnetic, and there was an effortless confidence in the way he carried himself. His dark eyes were sharp and focused, and he exuded an almost aloof air of superiority.

“That’s Sunghoon,” Fia whispered, her voice laced with a mix of awe and excitement. “He’s Leo’s biggest rival. Sunghoon’s undefeated, and Leo’s been itching for this challenge for a long time.”

I stared at Sunghoon, taking in his cool demeanor. He seemed unfazed by the crowd and the hype, his focus solely on the track and his car. The rivalry between him and Leo was evident, and it was clear that this race was more than just a competition—it was personal.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the floodlights cast an artificial daylight over the track, and the atmosphere thickened with anticipation. Leo emerged, his expression one of intense focus. He and Sunghoon exchanged terse words, their conversation filled with a competitive edge. Leo’s jaw was set with determination, while Sunghoon remained cool and composed, his demeanor almost nonchalant.

The night sky darkened completely, and the roar of the engines grew louder. The cars lined up on the starting grid, and the crowd’s excitement reached a fever pitch. With the night air charged with tension, the signal was given, and the cars surged forward with a deafening roar.

Fia and I found a good spot to watch, and I could hardly contain my excitement as the two cars sped around the track. The vivid lights of the floodlights made the scene almost surreal, the racing cars cutting through the darkness like shooting stars.

As the race unfolded, I was completely absorbed by the action. The speed, the noise, the thrill—it was all overwhelming and exhilarating. And as the race reached its climax, I felt a rush of adrenaline, caught up in the intensity of the moment.

The two cars were neck and neck, their speed creating a blur of lights and shadows. The crowd was on the edge of their seats, and the tension was almost palpable.

With a final burst of speed, Sunghoon’s sleek silver car edged ahead, crossing the finish line just inches in front of Leo’s black racer. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, their excitement blending with the roar of engines slowly dying down. Sunghoon had won.

As the cars stopped and the cheers subsided, the announcer’s voice cut through the night air, amplifying the stakes of the race. “And there you have it, folks! Sunghoon is our winner tonight! As per the wager, Leo must now grant Sunghoon whatever he desires.”

Sunghoon stepped forward, his calm demeanor unshaken by the cheers and the spotlight. His voice was cold and blunt as he addressed the crowd, though his words were directed solely at Leo. “I want Leo’s girlfriend for the night.”

A hush fell over the crowd. The request was both shocking and humiliating. Leo’s face flushed with anger and frustration as he realised that Sunghoon was humiliating him by forcing Leo to give away his girlfriend to his rival, but before he could react, he turned to Fia and me.

“Fia, Y/n can I talk to you both privately?” Leo’s voice was tense, his eyes shifting between us.

Leo took a deep breath, his frustration evident. “I don’t want to give Sunghoon what he’s asking. It’s not right. But I need a way out of this.”

Fia’s expression hardened, her anger growing. “What do you mean, a way out?”

Leo glanced at me, his eyes pleading. “I’m thinking of proposing something else. Y/n will come instead of you Fia and I’m hoping he’ll accept this as a substitute.”

I felt a wave of confusion and anxiety wash over me. “Me? But why me?”

Leo’s gaze was intense and desperate. “If he accepts this, it might be the only way to avoid giving up Fia and not get humiliated even more.”

Fia’s face was a mix of anger and betrayal. “Leo, this isn’t right. You can’t just—”

Leo interrupted, his voice firm but strained. “It’s the only option we have right now. I need your help, Y/n.”

Fia’s eyes darted between Leo and me, her frustration evident. “Y/n, you don’t have to do this. It’s not fair to put you in this position.”

I was overwhelmed, feeling trapped between my own uncertainty and Fia’s distress. “I—I don’t know. This is all happening so fast. I don’t even know Sunghoon.”

Leo reached out, his tone softening. “Please, Y/n. I’m asking you to do this for Fia’s sake. It’s just for one night, and it’s the only way I can avoid getting humiliated and giving away my girlfriend to this jerk.”

Fia stepped forward, her voice trembling with emotion. “Leo, this is wrong. We need to find another way. Y/n shouldn’t be put in this position.”

Leo’s face was a mask of frustration and desperation. “I don’t have another option right now. If we don’t do this, it’ll only make things worse.”

The idea of stepping into a situation I wasn’t prepared for, and the pressure of Leo’s request, made me feel uneasy.

Leo could see the distress in both Fia’s and my eyes. Trying to calm the situation, he put on a reassuring smile. “Listen, I’ll handle this. Maybe that was too hasty of me, I’ll figure out another way to settle this without involving anyone we don’t want to. Just give me a moment.”

He stepped away from us, his expression a mix of determination and secrecy. I could see him heading towards Sunghoon, their conversation hidden from our view. Fia and I watched anxiously, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

“I hope he knows what he’s doing,” Fia muttered, her voice tinged with frustration and worry. “This isn’t fair to anyone.”

I nodded, feeling my anxiety grow. The whole situation felt like a bad dream, and I was unsure how to react.

Moments later, Leo returned with a more composed demeanor, but the tension was still palpable. Without a word, he reached for Fia’s hand. “Let’s go,” he said firmly, guiding her away from the crowd.

Fia looked at Leo in confusion and anger. “Leo, what’s going on? Where are you taking me?”

Leo didn’t respond, his grip firm but gentle as he led her away. Fia’s protests grew louder, her voice carrying through the noise of the crowd. “Leo, stop! What are you doing?”

My eyes darted around, searching for a way to help her. Just then, Sunghoon approached me, his expression unreadable.

“Come with me,” he said, his voice cold and commanding.

Before I could react, Sunghoon’s hand was on my arm, guiding me towards his car. The crowd had thinned, and the night air felt colder as he led me through the parking lot. My heart raced as I struggled to process what was happening.

“Wait, where are we going?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Sunghoon didn’t answer immediately, his focus on the car. As he forced me inside, he slid into the driver’s seat, starting the engine with a smooth, controlled motion. The low rumble of the car seemed to echo the turmoil inside me.

As we sped away, I glanced back towards the crowd, hoping to see Leo and Fia, but they were already out of sight. The weight of the situation settled heavily on my shoulders. I had been pulled into this chaotic mess, and I felt trapped and unsure of what lay ahead.

Sunghoon drove in silence for a while. The tension in the car was thick, and I struggled to find the right words.

“Where are we going?” I asked again, trying to break the silence.

Sunghoon finally turned his gaze away from the road, his expression still unreadeble. “To a place where we can talk privately. Leo’s plan was to avoid facing the truth. I don’t appreciate being deceived.”

I swallowed hard, trying to calm the frantic thoughts swirling in my mind. “Leo said he would come up with another solution. He didn’t want to go through with your original plan.”

Sunghoon’s gaze remained fixed on the road, his face still cold. “It seems he was less forthright than I thought. But here we are.”

As the car sped through the night, I felt trapped between the conflicting actions of Leo and Sunghoon. The night was far from over, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead was both thrilling and terrifying.

Sunghoon maneuvered the car down a winding dirt path, the headlights slicing through the dense forest. The rhythmic thud of the tires against the uneven terrain was the only sound breaking the silence.

He eventually pulled over in a secluded clearing, the car's engine humming softly as he shifted into park. The sudden quiet was almost deafening, and I could hear my own heartbeat thudding in my ears. Sunghoon’s fingers drummed impatiently on the steering wheel, his frustration barely masked by his cool exterior.

He turned to me, his dark eyes fixed with an intensity that made me shiver. “This wasn’t how I planned it,” he said abruptly, his voice betraying a hint of irritation. “I was supposed to take Leo’s girlfriend, not his friend. The humiliation would’ve been far more satisfying.”

He leaned back in his seat, his demeanor shifting back to its usual aloof and nonchalant state. Despite the situation, he seemed eerily calm, as though he was simply going through the motions of a routine rather than engaging in something deeply personal.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice smooth and almost casual, “have you ever done it in a car?”

I could feel my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. His question was blunt, and the way he asked it—so casually—made my face grow hot. I glanced down at my hands, fidgeting with the hem of my dress, unable to meet his gaze.

“I... no,” I stammered. “I haven’t.”

Sunghoon’s smirk widened slightly, though his eyes remained unreadable. “I thought as much. It’s not really your scene, is it?”

I shook my head, unable to find the words. The situation was surreal, and his casual demeanor only seemed to heighten my discomfort. I felt trapped, both by the physical confines of the car and the emotional weight of the night.

Sunghoon studied me for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “I suppose we’ll make this a first for you then,” he said, his tone almost indifferent.

The way he spoke made me feel like I was part of some game he was playing, and I couldn’t shake the sense of unease. The silence in the car felt heavy, suffused with an uncomfortable tension. Sunghoon’s gaze remained fixed on me, his smirk never fading. I could feel his eyes on me, as if he was assessing every nuance of my reaction.

“I guess this isn’t exactly your kind of thrill, is it?” he said, his tone dripping with condescension. “I mean, it’s clear you haven’t really lived on the wild side.”

“I’m not some... easy target,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the lump forming in my throat. “Just because I haven’t done something like this doesn’t mean I’m... I’m not bold enough.”

Sunghoon’s eyes glinted with a sharp, almost predatory light. He leaned forward slightly, his tone dripping with condescension. “Is that so? I just thought you might be too timid for something like this. You look like someone adamant to step out of your comfort zone.”

The way he spoke was calculated, meant to push my buttons and provoke a reaction. I could feel my pulse quickening as his words sank in, igniting a fierce determination within me. I wasn’t going to let him belittle me, not without a fight.

In a sudden, impulsive decision driven by a mix of defiance and desperation, I shifted my position in the car. Without fully realizing what I was doing, I swung my leg over his lap and straddled him, my heart racing with a mix of anxiety and adrenaline.

Sunghoon’s eyes widened in surprise, but the smirk on his lips remained. He looked at me with a blend of amusement and satisfaction, as if he had been waiting for this exact reaction. His hand rested casually on my hip, his touch sending a shiver down my spine.

“Raise the stakes,” he said, his voice low and almost amused.

The realization of what I had done hit me like a jolt. I was straddling him, the proximity making my heart race even faster. The initial burst of defiance was replaced by a sinking feeling as I understood Sunghoon’s manipulation. He had provoked me, played on my insecurities, and now I was exactly where he wanted me.

A wave of shame and anger washed over me, and I tried to push myself off his lap, but Sunghoon’s grip was firm, holding me in place. His eyes were cold and calculating, and his smile widened with satisfaction.

“You’re quite easy to manipulate, you know,” he said softly, his voice tinged with an edge of cruelty. “It wasn’t hard to get you to react. All it took was a little prodding.”

I was taken aback by his words, the sting of his taunt cutting deep. I had been tricked, my attempt to assert myself used against me. The realization made me feel vulnerable and exposed, and I struggled to maintain my composure.

“I... I didn’t mean to—” I started to say, but my voice faltered as I tried to regain control of the situation.

Sunghoon’s grip on my hip tightened slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. “It’s alright,” he said with a cold, almost pitying tone. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a part of the game. And now, you’re fully in it.”

Sunghoon’s eyes never left mine as he took in the flush of anger and embarrassment on my face. His smirk grew more pronounced, a blend of satisfaction and cruel amusement evident in his gaze.

“Since you’re so eager to prove yourself,” he said, his voice smooth and laced with taunting, “why don’t you give me a hickey?”

The request was unexpected, and I felt a surge of panic. The idea of doing something so intimate and, frankly, embarrassing in my current state made my heart pound even harder. I was overwhelmed by the situation, unsure of what to do or how to respond. I felt a growing aversion towards him, fueled by his manipulation and the way he seemed to toy with me.

But my pride was a stubborn force. I wasn’t going to admit that I didn’t know how to give a hickey, not to him. The very thought of telling him that was mortifying, and I refused to give him that satisfaction.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my trembling hands. “Fine,” I said, trying to sound confident despite the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. “I’ll do it.”

Sunghoon’s eyes glittered with a dangerous, sensual light. He tilted his head slightly, exposing the side of his neck. His hand wandered from my hip to my back, fingers grazing my skin with a touch that was both deliberate and electrifying.

“Go on,” he said, his voice low and almost a purr. “I’m waiting.”

My heart raced as I leaned in closer, the heat of his body against mine making my breath hitch. I pressed my lips to his skin tentatively, trying to muster the courage to follow through with the task. The closeness was overwhelming, and his touch made it even harder to focus.

Sunghoon’s hand continued to explore my body, tracing along my back and the curve of my waist. Each touch was calculated, designed to heighten my discomfort and make the situation more intense. I could feel his fingers brushing lightly against the bare skin of my upper thigh, and it made me shiver involuntarily.

Despite my best efforts, I was inexperienced and unsure, and I could tell by the way Sunghoon’s eyes gleamed that he was thoroughly enjoying my struggle. I tried to apply pressure with my lips, but it came out more hesitant than confident. The feeling of his skin beneath my lips was foreign and unsettling.

When I finally pulled back, my face flushed with embarrassment and frustration. Sunghoon’s expression was a mix of amusement and mockery. He traced a finger lightly over the spot where I’d tried to leave a mark, his touch a lingering reminder of my inexperience.

“Not bad,” he said with a smirk. “Though I have to admit, it’s more like a soft nibble than a bite. You’re a bit too gentle.”

I glared at him, my pride wounded by his taunting. The way he compared my attempt to a bite only deepened my humiliation. I tried to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks and the ache of frustration that was slowly taking over my emotions.

Sunghoon's smirk never faded as he observed my flushed face. His eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and something darker, something that made my pulse race. Before I could react, he slid his hand down to grab my ass, pulling me closer against him. The sudden move made me gasp, my breath catching in my throat.

"Let me show you how it should be done," he whispered, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge. Before I could react, he pulled me closer, his other hand slipping into my hair and tugging my head to the side, exposing the delicate skin of my neck.

I barely had time to process what was happening before I felt his lips against my skin. The sensation was electric, his mouth hot and insistent as he latched onto my neck with a hunger that made my breath catch. His teeth grazed my skin, and the sharpness of it made my body tense, every nerves.

A low, involuntary moan escaped my lips as his grip tightened on my ass, pulling me flush against him. The way his body pressed against mine, the heat radiating from him, was overwhelming. My mind screamed at me to pull away, to resist, but my body betrayed me, responding to his touch with a confusing mix of fear and arousal.

He sucked harder, his tongue swirling against my skin, leaving behind a mark that I knew would be impossible to hide. The intensity of it sent a wave of heat pooling in my stomach, and I hated how much it was affecting me. Every touch, every movement of his lips against my neck, seemed to ignite something deep within me that I hadn’t known existed.

When he finally pulled back, I was left breathless, my heart pounding in my chest. Sunghoon’s eyes were dark, filled with a dangerous satisfaction as he surveyed the mark he had left on me. His thumb brushed over the spot, and I shivered at the lingering sensation.

"See? That’s how you leave a mark," he said, his tone dripping with arrogance. "You can’t just be gentle with everything. Sometimes, you have to take what you want."

I tried to mask my reaction, but the throbbing pulse in my neck and the ache in my core made it impossible to hide how his touch had affected me. I hated that he had turned me on, hated that my body had responded to him in a way that made me feel weak and vulnerable.

But most of all, I hated that he knew it. The triumphant gleam in his eyes told me that he had noticed every shiver, every gasp, and it only fueled his arrogance.

Sunghoon’s eyes softened slightly as he pulled back, his lips leaving a lingering warmth on my neck. He looked at me with a mix of satisfaction and something else I couldn't quite place.

“Well, that’s enough for tonight,” he said, his voice suddenly shifting to a more neutral tone. “I’m not going to push you further.”

His unexpected decision left me with a strange mixture of relief and frustration. I tried to steady my breathing, my cheeks still flushed from his touch. Despite the torment and the way my body had betrayed me, I snapped back, trying to salvage some shred of dignity.

“Why did you even need to do all this?” I asked, my voice shaking slightly. “Why did you have to—”

Sunghoon cut me off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I was just having some fun. Besides, you made it pretty easy.” He paused, his smirk returning. “Where do you live? I’ll give you a ride back.”

Sunghoon drove me back in silence, the atmosphere between us thick with unspoken tension.

When we finally arrived at the dorm, Sunghoon parked the car and got out, walking around to open my door. I stepped out, feeling the cool night air on my skin. He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on my rear with a smirk.

"You know," he said, his voice carrying a hint of teasing, "you have a pretty nice ass I will give you at least that."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I felt a surge of humiliation and anger, my cheeks burning as I tried to compose myself. I managed to muster a glare at him, but my eyes were brimming with unshed tears.

Sunghoon’s smirk widened as he got back into his car. “Looking forward to us meeting again, Y/n.”

As the car pulled away, I stood there, feeling a mixture of relief and heartache. I fought back the tears that were now streaming down my face, the raw emotion bubbling up from within. The frustration I felt wasn’t just from the night’s events but from how deeply it had affected me.

It wasn’t just the emotional turmoil that left me in despair; my underwear was uncomfortably wet, a reminder of how Sunghoon's actions had affected me in ways I deeply resented. The realization of how much he had gotten under my skin only added to my sense of humiliation and frustration.

The streetlights cast a faint glow on the pavement, reflecting the tears that continued to fall from my eyes. It was in that moment, that I came to a clear and undeniable conclusion.

I hated him.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[freaky-wasatch-range]

hey, tumblrstake! I've seen several posts on here about how we wished mormons had more cultural traditions/holidays, so I want to share with y'all my family's memorial day tradition.

every year, about 300+ of my extended family gather in the podunk town of oak city, utah to take over the town hall for the weekend and then serve free breakfast to the town on monday morning. it's called the "edward partridge memorial day breakfast" or 'MDB" for short.

edward partridge immigrated to the U.S. from great britain and was the first ordained bishop of the church. he is my great-great-great-great-great grandfather. edward partridge's grandson, aesel lyman, started the breakfast, declaring that the tradition would continue until edward partridge came and got breakfast himself. today marked the 52nd annual MDB, and this year, we fed 1069 people.

the customary breakfast is: sourdough pancakes (they're really freaking good and the batter is hand-stirred by an army of little kids), fried eggs, fried ham, oak city milk, and an orange juice called Tang. that same army of little kids get the honor of "running" food from the griddles in the town hall's back courtyard to the gym where we serve the breakfast, and of course most of the adults are given a job to do as well (cooking, serving, hospitality, utensil rolling, the most recent newlyweds get to rinse the empty batter buckets with a hose... you get the gist). members of the fam bring their plates straight to the griddles when we want to eat. we all wear special aprons. the atmosphere is always kind of electric :)

the night before, we have a thing called "the program" where we watch the same grandparent-originated skits and sing the same favorites-of-our-grandparents songs that we've been performing for decades.

some other traditions that have endured at the mdb: games of P-I-G (kind of like H-O-R-S-E), a couple hundred people playing bunco at the same time, blasting louis armstrong during the breakfast, a baseball game for the kids, red velvet cake, older kids teaching younger kids to throw mountains of playground-gravel down the slides (I was little when that started and it's been going on for over a decade now lol), and, of course, visiting the oak city cemetery and telling stories about our grandparents.

I'm really blessed that on memorial day I get to spiritually honor my five generations of grandparents buried in oak city instead of just making vague allusions of thanks to the military industrial complex. most white americans have been completely isolated from any kind of ancestral culture/specific traditions (because that's what racist assimilationism demands), so I find our weird and sometimes difficult annual reunion to be really special. whatever this is is mormon culture to me.

so, idk, hopefully this was inspiring and gave you a new way to think about memorial day. I hope that wherever I am in the world, I can continue this tradition with the friends and family I have around, serve a community with free food, and do it in honor of some modern pioneers and martyrs.

here's some photos of my dinosaur, jared, wearing my keffiyeh and hanging out in oak city over the weekend: