#but each time i went downtown i forgot

[maybeicanbesaved]

stopped at wendy’s to finally try the peppermint frosty/peppermint coldbrew and they already don’t have them anymore 😔😭<////3

[luvhughes43]

instagram follows | jamie drysdale

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌷]

request: reader and jamie have been in a relationship for maybe 5 or 6 months and reader hasn’t said anything but the girls Jamie follows on instagram really bother her. she doesn’t want to seem controlling because of her past relationships but she is trying to find a way to bring it up to him. so one day she is feeling a little more insecure and Jamie is trying to figure out what’s wrong and she finally snaps and tells him. like she would say “you haven’t unfollowed any girls on the gram since we started dating and it makes me feel horrible about myself”

word count: 1.1k

you knew it was an awful idea even before you decided to scroll through your boyfriends instagram following. it was a bad idea for multiple reasons actually - mainly your own body image issues. however, you had seen what seemed like all the tiktoks in existence about men and their instagram usage pre and post relationship. also, it didn’t help that you kept getting recommended videos of girls' devastating reactions to scrolling through their favourite hockey players following. 

when you first clicked on jamies following list, you thought it wouldn't have been so bad. 

Blondes. 

Boobs. 

Brunettes. 

Canadian University Girls? 

you went into a completely unwarranted deep dive because really, jamie had never given you any reasons to doubt his faithfulness and yet… you were a half-tub deep into your litre of mint chocolate ice cream with grey’s anatomy playing distractedly in the background. 

with jamie gone on a roadie, you had time to push all of your feelings of distrust and discomfort to the back of your mind. you had been in this position before, and with yours and jamies relationship so fresh you didn’t want to say anything. last time you had brought your insecurities up with your ex boyfriend, you had been yelled at and called controlling - which you would rather not relive. even though jamie was much nicer than your ex, you were still having trouble trying to find a way to safely bring the topic up, so you dropped it. 

a week later and jamie had gotten back from his trip, completely exhausted but wanting to spend time with you nonetheless, you had tried your best to forget all about his following list. 

“how’s my girl been?” jamie smiles at you sweetly before wrapping you into a hug. the two of you rock back and forth for a moment. 

“oh you know… the usual,” you shrug, silently loving the glint in jamie’s eyes. he was so pretty. 

jamie brings you back into another hug and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “oh i forgot, trevor wants to know if we’ll go out with him tonight,”

“go out where?”

“some new restaurant downtown,” jamie shrugs carelessly as all men do. “do you wanna go?”

you think about it for a moment, did you really want to go out with trevor? ultimately though, you decide that going out would be the perfect distraction you needed. plus, the extra time with your boyfriend might help reassure yourself about your relationship. 

wrong. three hours later you were dressed, ready, and sat uncomfortably between your boyfriend and his best friend. their friends sat across from you, all of whom were single and making comments on all the girls that walked past your table. their comments weren’t out of the ordinary, but you couldn’t help but wonder if jamie felt the same way as his friends. if like his following suggested - he liked appreciating other girls more than he let on. 

“now she’s hot” 

“you should go ask her for her number! look at her ass,”

“i think i just saw a goddess…” 

“i’d let her dog walk me,”

with each comment you shrunk into yourself, suddenly feeling very self-conscious of your body and your outfit choice. jamie was quick to notice of course, leaning into you and whispering, “are you okay?”

when you nodded your head in response, jamie only frowned.

when everyone’s food arrives and you were still acting off, jamie questions you again, “no seriously… what’s wrong?”

you smooth the sleeves of your top, “i don’t want to get into it here,” 

“what?” 

“jamie, please just drop it” 

things were tense between the two of you for the rest of the night and instead of trying to work through things, you simply order another drink at the restaurant. by the time jamie drops you off at your apartment you were tipsy. 

“can you tell me what’s wrong now?” were the first words out of jamie’s mouth when you locked the door behind him. 

“no,” you respond quickly. 

jamie was rightfully confused. “yn…” 

you pretend you don’t hear him. “do you want something to drink?”

“no! I want you to tell me what's wrong with you!” jamie was clearly frustrated and tired of your refusal to talk. 

you whip around towards him - still tipsy and upset. “you want to know what's bothering me?” you start, to which jamie nods enthusiastically. “you’re bothering me!”

“what did i do…?”

he was so oblivious sometimes. “i know i shouldn't have looked through your instagram followings but i can't unsee what i saw! all the girls…. i feel sick about myself,” 

jamie tries to speak but you interrupt him, “and i don’t want to be controlling and force you to unfollow them but… i just feel so awful and ugly and like… you have so many options out there that you’re probably interested in and-”

“okay wait,” jamie finally interjects. he inches closer to you, his mind still reeling from how fast you were speaking. “first of all, i don’t look at other girls,” you scoff but jamie keeps talking. “and if my following was upsetting you, you could've just told me instead of bottling up your feelings and getting upset with me” 

“i use instagram like, once a year and i honestly don't look at my following list it’s from so long ago. so, if you want me to unfollow the people that make you uncomfortable than i one hundred percent will” jamie continues, stepping closer to you and grabbing ahold of your hands. 

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, sad and confused all at once. you hadn’t meant to blow up all at once, but your past relationships would have never been this kind to you and so you were unsure of how to react. you were almost positive that you were being controlling and you suddenly felt sick. “i didn’t mean it-”

“yes you did,” jamie’s voice is soft now, his hands comfortingly trailing patterns up and down your arms. “and by the way, i think you're the most beautiful girl that i’ve ever laid eyes on. i’m sorry for making you feel bad. i don’t want anybody else,”

“i don’t want anybody else either,” you breathe a sigh of relief and wrap your arms around your boyfriend. 

the next time you check instagram is when you get a notification that your boyfriend had posted a picture “for the first time in awhile”. the pictures are sweet shots of the two of you, taken by trevor whose presence you can never evade. you get curious again though, clicking on your boyfriends profile only to see that his following had significantly decreased. 

[princess-luvvv]

A GOLD RING AND COLD FEET

Rafe Cameron x fem!exgirlfriend!reader

A/N: (This is lowk 4.3k words I’m sorry) Hey guys lol I literally do not know what I’m doing help. I did not proofread idek how to work this app so if this sucks just don’t tell me bc this thing is the biggest pain in the ass lol. Like I am so genuinely sorry I’m such a grandma. Also this is what I listened to while writing this so feel free to listen as well :)

WARNINGS: AUTHOR CANT FIGURE THIS APP OUT, there’s no smut (not going to traumatize you guys with my brain on the first post), girl reader, marriage (basically the whole theme), cheating (sort of from reader but like it’s fine), ermmm just bad writing im sorry lol. Just a man yearning (like good). Okay Im sorry byeee.

14 DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: THE BRIDAL SHOWER

Rafe Cameron was going to be the death of me. I knew it.

We had dated for 7 years. He asked me out when we were 14 after knowing each other since we were 6. He broke up with me when we were 21. He said he “couldn’t be tied down in his 20s”.

After that I thought I was completely broken. I had never even imagined loving anyone else - having to love someone else.

But here I was. 14 days away from my wedding to a man I didn’t love. A part of me felt like such an asshole. Marrying a man who I knew I’d never love. But Jackson had his faults. He raised his voice too much. He never opened my door…not since our third date at least. He worked all the time. He regularly forgot important events like anniversaries and birthdays.

We started dating 10 months, 1 week, and 4 days after Rafe broke up with me.

Even though most people said it was time to move on it still felt too soon to me. 3 years later and it still feels too soon sometimes.

But here I am. At my bridal shower. Wearing a silver ring when I haven’t touched a piece of silver jewelry since I was 9.

I was opening gifts when only one remained. A small black box with no tag attached.

“Who is this one from?” I ask the crowd of giddy women surrounding me. They all share confused looks. Shrugging and comments like “It’s not mine” falling from their lips. This only furthered my confusion as I opened the box.

I gasped.

Inside was a beautiful - gold - ring. It was my dream ring.

“Oh my gosh it’s just beautiful!” My best friend Grace said.

“Jackson must have picked it out for you since yours is missing.” Grace says causing me to furrow my brows.

I looked down to my left hand and noticed the absence of my ring.

Since when was that gone?

“Oh yeah…I guess he did.” I smile and tuck the box away. Making a mental note to ask Jackson later. Even though I knew he didn’t get it for me, a part of me hoped.

As my friends went on and on about how beautiful this wedding would be and how happy they were…I couldn’t help but wish their joy was infectious.

At least someone is excited right?

12 DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: BACHELORETTE

I was sitting in an expensive restaurant in downtown Charleston sipping a cocktail I’m pretty sure costs more than my salad. Jackson and I had decided to have our Bachelorette/Bachelor parties in the same city in case anything happened. He was out having a guys night while I was out with my girls. I hadn’t had this much fun doing anything wedding related well ever.

“It’s not a coincidence that you think that and Jackson isn’t here” a little voice inside my brain taunts me. But I push it down. Along with the bile rising in my throat. From the alcohol or the impending commitment of forever to a person who I know I don’t love - which, I’m not sure.

“How are you babe?” My friend Ava says as she turns her entire body to face me. I was tracing shapes on the condensation on the outside of my barely touched drink while I tuned out the rest of the chatter.

“I’m wonderful how about you Ava?” I smile and meet her eye. She gives an unconvinced smile and repeats her question: “Come on. How are you really? Cold feet? We can get on the next flight out of America just say the word.” She says with a laugh. And I know she’s joking but part of me is screaming “YES!” Inside of my head.

I laugh and shake my head.

“No cold feet. Just lukewarm maybe.”

Lukewarm. It’s funny cause that’s basically a word that sums up the entirety of Jackson and I’s relationship. I hadn’t felt fire, sparks, passion…any of it. Not since-

“Lukewarm is okay. Marriage is big. But…you’ll be okay.” Ava says cutting off my thoughts. And I can see her trying to hide her real feelings. She wants me to talk to him. Not him. Him.

The him who left me in a hotel room in Key West on what was supposed to be our 8 year anniversary trip. The him who wouldn’t stop sending letters to my house. The him who sent me 127 texts and 87 voicemails since last Tuesday. Which is apparently the day the Cameron’s wedding invitation arrived. I wasn’t going to invite them but I felt I needed to. Sarah and I were still friends and I adored Wheezie. The him who took up every inch of my heart. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself he didn’t.

LATER THAT NIGHT AT THE HOTEL…

I entered my private suite in the hotel. I had gotten my drunk pack of bridesmaids back to their rooms…well the ones that were sleeping in their own rooms tonight. I had my own room this trip. My bridesmaid Lila insisted on it in case Jackson wanted to sneak over from his hotel…that’s what she said. But I knew she secretly wanted to give me my space away from the wedding buzz and events. I was grateful for that.

Until I was not.

Because the second I opened my door and ripped off my crown that said “BRIDE” I looked up and saw a man sitting on the couch in the suites living room. His elbows resting on his large thighs as he hung his head.

He looks up when I walk in.

I should’ve been scared…but I knew exactly who it was.

I flicked on the light. “Rafe what- what are you doing here?” I say in half anger half disbelief. OBX was at least 7 hours from here.

What the hell was he thinking?

“I had to see you…” I shake my head as he stands up and walks towards me. I take a step back.

“No. No. You can’t do this to me.” He walks closer. I put out my hands. Placing them on his chest to keep distance between us.

“Please just hear me out….” He gently grips my wrists that are placed on his chest. He paused for a second. Looking into my eyes to see if I would stop him again. I let him continue.

“I know…I know I have no right to be here. No right to do this. But please just listen to what I have to say…” He sighed before continuing. “You can’t marry him. Baby you can’t….I’m begging you. He doesn’t treat you right. You know that. I have so many regrets in my life…but I’d live them all over a million times if it meant I never let you go. I regret that every breath I take.”

My eyes gloss over. His touch was so gentle unlike Jackson’s. He didn’t raise his voice at me. He didn’t do anything but love me exactly the way I wanted while also being everything I needed.

He sighs seeing my eyes tear up. “Baby don’t- don’t cry….it’s just-….I can tell you’re not happy.” He says as he wipes a tear that escaped my eyes.

“I-I’m happy…” I say weakly.

But I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince. Me or him?

He sighs. Bringing a hand up to my cheek to wipe away another tear. His hand not moving. “You’re not. I can see it. I know you…I see it in your face when you look at him. Those beautiful eyes have never told me a lie.”

“You don’t know me anymore…” another lie. He knew me. He knew me. He knew my coffee order at every coffee shop on the island. He knew my favorite songs and the lyrics to all of them. He knew my favorite movie. He knew my favorite animal.

He laughs softly in disbelief.

“I don’t know you? I know you. I know your order at every Mexican restaurant on the island. I can recite your coffee orders in my sleep. I know every word to your favorite Taylor Swift songs. Your favorite movie is Beauty and the Beast and you love the soundtrack. You love penguins and you’re a dog person. I know you baby.”

I cry harder as he recites everything about me. On surface it’s not much. Small talk topics he could’ve figured out from social media. But it goes so much deeper. He knows what makes me tick. What I need when I’m sad. How to cheer me up even through tears.

If only he could do that now…

“Does that asshole even know your favorite Jane Austen book? Huh? Does he? Cause I do. And it’s Emm-“

“Stop! Just stop Rafe! Just- just go! Why-why are you doing this me? This isn’t fair.” I say wiping my tears. I was full on crying now.

“I can’t just sit back and watch you marry someone who’s not going to make you happy. You deserve so much better. You don’t deserve someone who’s never there for you, or doesn’t treat you well. You deserve someone who treats you exactly how you deserve to be treated - like the woman I love. I know I was stupid to let you go. I was young - and I thought I wanted freedom, but I was wrong. I haven’t known a minute of freedom since you left. I miss you, I miss us. And I need you more than I need air to breathe…”

“Please. Don’t marry him. Please baby…” He’s begging now. I’ve never seen Rafe Cameron beg for anything.

“Rafe I’m-I’m getting married in 12 days I can’t-“ I cut myself off with a sob.

He pulls me against his chest. I don’t protest as I cry harder. Pretty much sobbing now.

I clutch onto the end of his shirt. “I have to marry him Rafe…”

“Why? Why do you have to marry him? You know this isn’t what you want.” He says pleading with me. Running a soothing hand up and down my back. Providing me more comfort than I’ve known all of my relationship with Jackson.

“I know.” I say softly. My voice hoarse.

“Then don’t do it. Don’t marry him. I made the wrong choice a few years ago, but I’m here now. I want you not some false pretense of freedom. I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I can give you a ring that you actually like, and a house that we build together. I’ll give you anything you want, just don’t marry him. Be with me.” I pause when he mentions the ring. I look down to the gold ring on my left hand. Silently piecing things together.

“Did you send me a new ring?” I look back up him. Brows furrowed. My face puffy from crying. When I meet his eyes I see how utterly heartbroken he looks. It breaks me a little bit.

“I-uh…yeah I did.” He says. And as he confirms my theory I step away from him. Letting out sobs as I turn my back towards him. One hand cradling my stomach as the other covers my mouth.

“Hey - hey what’s wrong. Talk to me.” He says as he walks up behind me placing a soothing hand on my shoulder letting his hands rub me gently.

“Y-you remembered the ring.” I had shown him the type of ring I wanted back when I thought we were going to get married.

I was so stupid at 20. Or maybe I was just naive.

“Of course I remembered the ring. You showed it to me a million times. I know it was your dream ring and I couldn’t bear the idea of him giving you something you didn’t actually want…” He explains with a confused expression. Not quite sure why it was hurting me so bad.

The thought that he had gotten me a ring I wanted even though he didn’t want me marrying Jackson made me want to cry…and vomit.

“I-I can’t-“ My legs give out and I drop to my knees. Rafe immediately goes down with me. Pulling me into his chest. I was now cradled in his lap as he rocked me gently while I cried.

“Please don’t cry baby….it hurts me so bad.”

That night I fell asleep in Rafes arms.

THIRD PERSON POV:

As Rafe brought her to her hotel bed and tucked her in he couldn’t help but feel the urge to get in bed and hold her as she slept. But he knew how awful she’d feel if she woke up next to him knowing she betrayed Jackson. So he left a note next to her bedside and pressed a kiss to her forehead before leaving. The words “I love you” mumbled softly as she slept.

ELEVEN DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: THE NEXT MORNING.

THIRD PERSON POV:

As Jackson walks into the hotel room of his future wife he can’t help the guilt eating at him. He brings in the takeout bags and starts to place it onto a tray.

He takes out the water and Advil he got from the pharmacy and brings it over to her bedside.

As he’s placing the hangover cure on her nightstand a paper written on hotel stationery catches his eye.

He reads through the paper.

“All my love, R.C.”

He folds up the note and places it back in his pocket before going back to the takeout bags. Ready to act as if nothing happened.

FIRST PERSON POV

I wake up with an empty feeling in my stomach. The same one I’ve had for 3 years, 7 months, 2 weeks, and 6 days.

I hear someone walking around the suite and as much as I know it’s probably Jackson…a part of me hopes…

Seconds later Jackson comes into my room with a smile. Holding a tray of food.

Odd. He’s never done sweet gestures for me like this.

“Good morning my love…I thought this would help cure the hangover. I ordered breakfast from that place you like downtown. You always talk about how much you wish we had one back at home so…” As he explains his reasoning for being here the sick feeling grows in my stomach. And I wish it was hangover sickness. I felt like such crap. Here he was being so sweet to me and I cried in the arms of another man last night.

I look around the room for any evidence Rafe was here. Feeling slightly disappointed but relieved that I didn’t find anything.

“Have fun last night?” Jackson says as he picks a blueberry off my plate.

“Uh yeah….it was really fun.” I smile and lie. But he can’t tell the difference so he nods his head before getting up and kissing my forehead.

“Well I have to go into work early tomorrow so the guys and I are heading back home but…I love you.” He says. He rarely says those three words. And that itself wouldn’t be weird. We’re getting married of course we tell each other we love each other. But paired with the weird domestic wake-up I had this morning it left an icky feeling in my stomach. But I smiled and nodded. Swallowing my food before replying.

“Okay…love you too.”

TWO DAYS BEFORE THE WEDDING DAY: THE REHEARSAL DINNER

“Have you seen my gold earrings?” I ask Jackson. Walking around our shared bathroom while he was shaving. We were getting ready for our rehearsal dinner before we left for the wedding venue in the morning.

“Which earrings?” He asks. Not pausing his movements of shaving his face.

“The ones I always-“ I huff in defeat knowing it’s no use. I’ve worn those earrings everyday for the past 9 years. They were Rafe’s 2 year anniversary gift to me.

I walk around the bedroom looking under a few things before my phone pings distracting me for a second. I walk over to it and turn the screen over to see an Instagram DM message request.

“Hey…I want to say I am so sorry to do this to you. I know you’re getting married in 2 days but there’s something you should know…”

THREE HOURS UNTIL WEDDING DAY: THE NIGHT BEFORE THE WEDDING

I was pacing around the cabin of my private room on the property of our venue.

The venue was a family owned property on the mainland. It was gorgeous. Jackson was in the cabin across the venue in the Groom’s cabin. I was staying in the Bridal lodge.

I felt nauseous. My throat felt like it was closing and the white matching way too expensive PJ set I was gifted especially for tonight felt like it was constricting my air. The cabin suddenly felt stuffy and like the walls were about to close in at any minute. I was all alone.

I pull out my phone quickly going to the only number I had on speed dial.

He picks up on the first ring - he always does.

RAFES POV

The whole day I had been sulking at home watching football and drinking whiskey. My lab Daisy sitting by my side as she watched me drown my sorrows.

Was she really going to marry him?

I had dozed off for a few hours before a phone ringing woke me up.

I look at the screen and immediately picked up.

“I need you.” I was standing up running to my shoes before the sentence was even over.

“I’m coming baby…I’m on my way just stay put okay?” Her shaky voice was breaking my heart. I grabbed my keys and made an hour long drive less than 40 minutes.

FIRST PERSON POV

I was sitting with my knees tucked to my chest. My eyes puffy and crying, sitting at the edge of the bed when Rafe barged in. He immediately dropped to his knees next to me. Pulling me into his lap. Cradling me as he rocked me back and forth.

“I’m here baby…I’m here.” He repeats the words like a mantra to ease my mind. And it does. But it doesn’t fill the pit in my stomach that seems to have taken a permanent residence.

“Talk to me baby…please you’re scaring me…” I could hear the fear in his voice. And I felt like such a dick. I called my ex boyfriend to help me the night before my wedding to another man.

I’m the worst.

“I-I’m so sorry….I didn’t know who else to call.” I get out between sobs. He shakes his head. Grabbing my face with both of his hands.

“Shhh….I just need you to tell me what you need. I’m right here. Just tell me how to help. Okay?”

How does he always know what to say? It’s ridiculous.

“I need out of this…” And at that sentence Rafe was pretty sure he could’ve cried a happy tear. But he needed to be sure.

“Out of what baby?” He knew. But he needed to know.

“You know what.” I pause before continuing. Sniffling and wiping my tears. “Jackson cheated on me. His bachelor party…she texted me the night our rehearsal dinner. She was their bartender in Charleston. But that’s not even the worst part…” I shake my head in disbelief at myself. “The worst part is I don’t even care. My fiancée cheated on me less than two weeks before our wedding. And I can’t find it in me to care.”

I knew I never loved Jackson. And that’s part of why I was marrying him. Because I knew that if I never loved him he’d never be able to hurt me…not like Rafe did at least.

I continue:

“I’m literally incapable of loving him because every inch of my heart belongs to you. And it kills me. I should be devastated right now. But- but all I can think is that I need you. And it’s so cold and you hate driving at night but this is the second time you’ve driven over an hour for me in two weeks.”

In reality it didn’t take Rafe an hour to get here. But he let me continue anyways.

“I’m terrible-“ He cuts me off.

“No. You’re perfect. I know you think you have to settle for this but you don’t. I’m not leaving you. I’ll always be here. Whether or not you get married in 12 hours I’m always going to be there when you need me. I don’t care what it is or where you are. You call and I’m there. You need me…and I’m right here baby. I’ll always be right here. I won’t let anybody hurt you.”

I look at him as he says that. And suddenly nothing about this makes sense. Why am I getting married to Jackson?

He sucks.

I stand up. Grabbing Rafes hands pulling him up with me.

“We need to leave.” I look around the room at my things. Rafe immediately nods and starts packing my things into my suitcase with me.

“Where do you need to go? I’ll take you anywhere baby. Car? Train? Plane? Boat? Fuck I’ll swim across the Atlantic for you baby.”

I pause and glance up at him from across my suitcase that we’re both knelt over. I meet his gaze. His eyes show me nothing but seriousness. Standing 10 toes behind his words. I wrap an arm around his neck and place an arm on his shoulder to steady myself as I lean in and kiss him.

He’s so taken aback but he kisses back after realizing this isn’t another one of his dreams that have felt like nightmares these past 3 years.

I pull away and he slightly sighs at the disconnect.

“Anywhere that’s not here. Just need to be with you. Please.”

2 HOURS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: AN HOUR LATER ON THE WAY TO THE AIRPORT

I look around the room once more to make sure I have everything.

“You got everything you need baby?” He asks me and I nod.

“I’m gonna take this to the car.” I was carrying my pillow and blanket I had brought. Rafe insisted on carrying my bags. He nods but stays in his place before speaking up.

“Okay I’ll be there in a second I’m gonna take one last look around.” I nod before walking to his truck and getting inside.

THIRD PERSON POV:

Rafe pulls the object out of his pocket. Placing it on the dresser.

He grabs her bags taking one last look at the wedding dress hanging on the closet door before shutting the door behind him.

The silver ring shimmering in the moonlight sitting on the dresser where he left it.

FIRST PERSON POV

Rafe gets back in the car and looks over at me.

“If you change your mind I don’t mind-“ I cut him off.

“I’m not changing my mind. Now drive.” He smiles before putting the truck in reverse.

As we drive for a few minutes a question plagues my mind: Why didn’t he say anything the morning after the bachelorette party?

“Can I ask you something?” He glances over at me. He had a comforting hand on my thigh as he drove.

“Anything.” I smile at his answer while look at my lap before continuing.

“Why didn’t you say anything the morning after that night in Charleston? Not a text or a note or anything? I know you didn’t have to I just…hated waking up with no evidence that you had even been there.” Rafe’s brows furrow.

I did leave a note. He thought to himself.

“Baby I left a note on your dresser…didn’t you see it?” He says confused.

“No…the next morning I woke up and Jackson was…” I trailed off. Suddenly piecing everything together. Rafe seemed to as well. His grip on the wheel tightened and his jaw clenched.

“I left a note. I promise. But it’s not anything I won’t tell you to your face everyday for the rest of our lives. So don’t worry about it, pretty. Okay? I love you, baby.”

“I love you, Rafe.” And I truly meant it.

On the way to the airport we sang along to Taylor Swift songs we both knew. And suddenly the pit in my stomach was slowly being filled with laughter and the way he didn’t even ask me what I wanted when we stopped at McDonald’s.

To be loved it to be seen. And I had to have been invisible to Jackson.

23 MINUTES UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: AT THE AIRPORT 11:37 PM

���Flight 237 is now boarding. This is the final call for passengers to LaGuardia Airport.”

Rafe looks at me as we get ready to board the plane.

“You ready?” He sticks out his hand. I smile at him.

“Yeah…I’m ready.” I take his hand and lean up and kiss him as we walk onto the plane.

I glance down at the gold ring on my finger. And I realize no one will ever see me as clearly and perfectly as Rafe sees me. And that’s all I could ask for.

“Hey” he looks back at me. Glancing up from his sports magazine. His brows raised waiting for me to answer.

“I love you.” I continue and smile. His gaze softens and he pulls me into another quick kiss. I hated PDA but I didn’t care. Not with him.

“I love you more than I can even describe.” He pauses before continuing. “If I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more.”

I don’t know a lot…but I know I’ve found my person. And everything’s okay. And for the first time in 3 years, 7 months, 4 weeks, and 2 days…I felt like I could breathe.

[ivyangels-blog]

Brother's Ex-Best Friend

Summary: After watching Hawk break your brother's arm, you have trouble trusting him again.

A/n: I've discovered I enjoy writing hawk angst, so now you all must suffer

Warnings: violence, angst, injury and a rushed ending

--

I only got into karate because of my brother. I agreed that it might be good to learn to defend ourselves. I had no idea that it would increase the odds of us needing to tenfold.

Now I'm hiding in the corner of the laster tag place downtown, watching the boy who used to be my best friend, who I used to believe I was in love with, beat my brother to a pulp.

He pins Demetri to the ground, grabbing his arm and tugging it back.

"Finish him!" the other Cobra Kai's shout.

"Demetri!" I jump up from my hiding spot, rushing towards them.

Demetri is trying to reason with him. "Eli, Eli, it's me," he cries.

The other Cobra Kai's are shouting over him.

"Stop!" I cry, running towards them.

Eli looks up at me, but I realize that it's no longer him. The Eli I knew was kind and loyal. The person staring over at me is the complete opposite. His stone cold face is filled with nothing but hatred.

I watch in horror, as Hawk jerks my brother's arm, bending it backwards.

The crack echoes in my ears, only drowned out by the sound of my brother's scream.

"Demetri!" I drop to the ground beside him.

The other Cobra Kai's are already turning and leaving.

"It's okay," I mumble. "It's gonna be okay."

I look up to see Hawk still staring down at us.

"Just go!" I shout at him, tears spilling past my cheeks at having to listen to Demetri's whimpers.

I reach into my pocket, digging out my phone and calling 911.

By the time I've finished explaining the situation to the operator, Hawk is gone.

--

Time Skip

I wasn't able to forgive Hawk as easily as my brother did. I guess guys have a different sort of resolution to their fights. One second they hated each other, the next it was like a switch was flipped and they were best friends again.

I wasn't won over so easily, but maybe it has to do with the fact that I've barely talked to Hawk since he left Cobra Kai. Every time he comes over to hang out with Demetri, I find something to do elsewhere.

It's not until I absolutely have to, that I talk to Hawk again.

I was at work at the library where I intern. I was in charge of closing and I guess my boss didn't care if it was a sixteen year old all alone at night.

I should've locked the door after my coworker left, but I forgot.

It's my fault really.

I was shelving my last stack of books when I heard the bell of the front door.

"We're closed," I say, slipping another book into its spot.

"You hear that boys?" Kyler's voice makes my heart drop. "We got the whole place to ourselves."

A group of Cobra Kais appears in the middle of the library, about five boys.

One of them catches sight of me from my spot beside the bookshelf.

I drop the books in my hands, sprinting towards the back of the building.

Their shouts cut through the air behind me and I hear the pounding of their feet in pursuit.

I sprint down the back hallway, locking myself into the librarian's office.

The boys must not have seen where I went, because I hear them opening and closing other doors in the hallway.

I reach into my back pocket for my phone, but it's not there.

I must have left it by the front desk.

Frantically looking around, I spot the landline sitting on the desk.

I rush over to it and dial my home phone number, but no one picks up.

"Shit," I whisper, dialing Demetri next.

He doesn't answer either. My hands are shaking and my heart is about to beat out of my chest.

I try the only other number I have memorized: Eli's.

I press the numbers as fast as I can, forcing myself to take deep breaths. The door knob starts to jiggle, as I place the phone to my ear.

"Hey guys, I think she's in here!"

I press a shaky hand to my mouth, to hold back my gasp.

The phone rings...

and rings...

and

Please leave a message after the tone.

"Dammit," I mumble.

The door crashes open and I scream, dropping the phone so it dangles beside the desk by its wire.

"Looks like we've got you cornered now," one of the boys says.

I turn around, grabbing one of the books off the side table and holding it in front of me.

Kyler laughs and the others join in. "What are you gonna do?" he asks. "Smack some knowledge into me? You're such a nerd, working at the library. That's just sad."

"What do you want?" I ask.

"We just want to have a little fun. Don't we?" Kyler turns to the guys he's with and they all smirk and nod in agreement.

One by one, they're stepping closer to me. A blonde on my left is getting especially too close and I decide it's time to make my move.

I crash the book down over his head, bolting past him and around the desk.

The boys all shout in response and grab me before I can make it past the exit.

Their hands wrap around my arms, holding me in place.

I jerk and pull against their grasp, but can't manage to break free.

"You want the first shot, Andrew?" The boys turn to the blonde guy I just attacked, who's rubbing the top of his head.

"Hell yeah." He comes over to me and I start to tug harder against the hands holding me back.

"Let me go!" I shout, just to be silenced with a punch across the face.

The boys all cheer, as the left side of my face throbs.

Before I can look back, another punch is being delivered to my stomach.

It goes on like that, them taking turns hitting me until I'm gasping for breath.

Another kick is delivered to my stomach and its like I can barely feel it anymore.

"That should teach them not to pick a fight with us and not see it through," Kyler spits.

The arms around me loosen and I stumble without them holding me up.

"Let's get out of here." The boys file past me out the door, as I drop down onto the ground.

I lean my back up against the wall, struggling to catch my breath, wincing with each gulp of air.

I tell myself that I'll just sit for a little while and then I'll grab my things and go home, but I doubt I'll be able to make the walk in my condition. My vision is starting to go spotty and I’m worried I might pass out.

"Y/n? Y/n? Are you here?" The voice echoing through the halls pulls me to attention.

"Hawk?" I respond.

Before I can even sit up, he comes rushing through the door, dropping to his knees beside me.

"Jesus," he murmurs, looking at me with wide eyes.

"You came?" I whisper, not believing it to be true.

"Of course I did, I got your call. Are you okay?"

I nod, sitting up. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Here." Hawk lifts my arm, pulling it over his shoulder and lifting me up. "I'll drive you home."

We stop to grab my stuff and he helps me all the way out to his car.

I finally relax once we're on our way back to my house, letting my head fall against the head rest.

"What time is it?" I ask.

"A little after 11:00."

I sigh. "My whole family's gonna be asleep by now. I really don’t want to wake them up to this."

"You still keep your window unlocked?" Hawk asks.

"You remember that?" I ask.

"How could I forget? I spent too many nights sneaking in to hang out when you were grounded."

"God, only we were lame enough to have to sneak around just to stay home all night."

Hawk chuckles.

We pull into my driveway and Hawk hops out of the car, coming over to my side to help me.

With his support, I walk around to the back of the house, pausing below my window.

Hawk steps forward and pushes it open, turning to me and offering his intertwined hands as a platform to boost me up.

I grasp onto the windowsill and, since my bedroom's on the first floor, slip in easily.

Hawk comes in behind me and goes straight to my bathroom.

I move to sit on my bed, assuming he might just have to go, but he comes back out with a washcloth in hand.

"Can I?" he asks, approaching me.

I’m surprised by how much he cares, but nod and he presses the cool cloth to my face.

"It looks like they didn't get you too bad," he says.

Without saying anything, I reach to lift up my shirt, revealing the bruises on my stomach.

I haven't looked at them, yet, and the mixture of purple and yellow painting my skin looks worse than I could have imagined.

I turn my gaze up to see Hawk's reaction. His face is in a scowl, his nostrils flaring, as his grip on the washcloth tightens.

I'm once again reminded of why I'm so afraid of him.

"I can't believe that they ambushed you five to one," Hawk says. "Those cowards can't even make it a fair fight."

"How'd you know there were five of them," I ask.

Hawk goes back to pressing the washcloth on my cheek. "I saw them leaving when I got there."

"And you didn't stop to fight them?" I ask, confused.

Hawk furrows his brows. "No, I had to make sure you were okay."

I feel myself start to smile, because that's exactly something Eli would do.

"Let me go grab an ice pack," he pops up from the bed and leaves the room.

I take the opportunity while he's gone to change out of my jeans and blouse into loose fitting shorts and a t-shirt.

Hawk comes back from his mission, ice pack in hand, as well as a bottle of ibuprofen.

I take both, gratefully.

Hawk sits beside me on the edge of my bed, while I try and situate the ice pack on my stomach.

I can’t help but wince at the contact.

“They’re gonna fucking pay,” Hawk says.

“I’ll be fine,” I say. “Please, just leave them be.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Hawk jumps up from the bed, waving his hands and turning toward me.

The action causes me to flinch backwards, closing my eyes and putting my head down.

It’s the briefest of movements but when I look back up Hawk is staring down at me with his mouth slightly agape.

“Are you scared of me?” he asks, his voice no louder than a whisper. Almost like he doesn’t want to speak it into existence, like he can’t believe it might be true.

I shake my head, not wanting to get into it right now. “I’m just jumpy cause of everything that happened tonight.”

Hawk rolls his eyes with a shake of his head. “You forget I can always tell when you’re lying. Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“You broke Demetri’s arm. Demetri may be able to forget that, but I can’t. You were awful.”

Hawk’s face falls and he drops his head, avoiding eye contact.

“I know,” he murmurs. “I’m so sorry. If you’re okay, I’ll go.” He turns to head to the window. I should let him, but something about the way his head hangs low and how he refuses to meet my eye reminds me of Eli.

“Wait,” I find myself saying.

Hawk pauses and looks at me expectantly.

“You can stay,” I whisper.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

I nod. “Like old times.” I sit back on the bed, pulling my laptop up to find the Marvel movies we always watched together.

Hawk slowly sits down on the far side of my bed, putting plenty of space between us.

“You’re not going to be able to see it over there.” I slide next to him.

We sit in silence for awhile, eyes on my laptop screen. It’s not long before I start to feel tired, my head drops slightly, resting on his shoulder.

I feel Hawk tense a little at the contact and my head jerks back up with an apology.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind,” Hawk says and I rest my head against him once more.

I fall asleep like that, my head on his shoulder and when I wake up in the morning my face is planted on his chest.

I rub my eyes, sitting up and the movement causes Hawk to stir beneath me.

“Sorry for falling asleep,” I whisper.

He shakes his head. “Don’t be. It was nice to hang out like we used to. I missed you.”

His words make me pause. “I missed you, too.”

We sit like that, me leaning over him staring into each others eyes until Hawk breaks the silence.

“Uh, how are you feeling?” he asks.

“Sore,” I reply, “But I’ll be okay.”

“Thank you,” I add. “For coming.”

“I’ll always come get you, y/n.” Hawk’s eyes meet mine again and I can’t help, but feel drawn toward him.

His hand reaches up to brush the side of my face.

My heartbeat is fluttering, my mind is on overdrive trying to process what’s happening.

And then he kisses me, and it’s like the whole world goes still.

When we finally pull away both of us are smiling.

“I love you,” Hawk says. “I’ve loved you since we were kids and I need you to know it.”

His confession leaves me stunned, but my answer is easy. “I love you, too.”

Even though I’ve had my reservations about him recently I know it’s true. I realized it last night. I love the boy sitting across from me, Hawk and Eli alike.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Regrets & Apologies -Oneshot

Word count: 2338

“For fuck’s sake Bucky,” Y/N huffed, running her hands through her hair.  “I understand that you feel protective over me, and I love and appreciate that about you, but my god if you follow me to the grocery store again–”

“So sue me if I’m worried about you,” Bucky retorted angrily.  “If the wrong people were to find out you’re with me–”

“Don’t,” Y/N said.  “Stop it.  I don’t want to have this conversation again.  You are a free man, in both mind and body.  And in case you forgot, I can take care of myself,” she said, holding her hand up as a ball of fire emitted from her palm briefly before closing her fingers around it, making it disappear.

“I know you can,” Bucky groaned.  

“Then you obviously don’t trust me enough to do it,” Y/N said sadly.  “And I don’t know what’s worse: being tailed at all times because you don’t trust other people, or knowing you don’t trust me to be able to handle danger by myself.  You know what?  Never mind, the second one is worse,” she sniffled, her emotions getting the best of her.  “You’ve seen me in the field, and you still don’t believe in me?”

Bucky’s eyes widened.  “No, no that’s not it at all.”

Y/N shook her head and shut her eyes tight.  “I can’t do this.  I’m taking a walk.”  She turned and started heading for the elevator.

Bucky was angry, and now hurt, and reacted badly.  “Fine, go run away from handling our problems!”

“I don’t have a problem, Barnes,” Y/N shot back at him, punching the elevator button then walking inside, turning to look at him with near-literal fire in her eyes.  “It’s just you.”

Her glare haunted him as the elevator doors closed, leaving him alone on their shared floor.  Bucky tried to breathe evenly, the panic setting in at not being near her.  He knew he had a problem, he just wasn’t willing to admit it.  Ever since they had first started dating each other his protectiveness had kicked into overdrive, making him follow her while she was out running errands to make sure she was okay, constantly checking in, and even worse, getting in the way on missions because he wouldn’t leave her side.  She was well trained and had her powers to protect her, yet he for some reason was constantly on edge and afraid of losing her to something in his past.  God I need more therapy, he thought.  He paced back and forth in their apartment, trying to let her go on that walk alone.  They both needed space to cool off and think.  He had to let her be.  He had to show her he could trust her.  Bucky let out a loud yell in frustration and holed himself away in their room.

***

2 hours later

“Doll, I’m sorry, please come back home.  Let’s talk about this.”

***

4 hours later

“Okay, I’m trying not to freak out, but you need to text or call and let me know you’re okay.  Where are you?”

***

7 hours later

Bucky was rocking back and forth on their bed, holding himself as he held his phone tight in his flesh hand, waiting for it to ring or buzz.  It was almost 11:00 at night, and he hadn’t heard from her.  Something wasn’t right.  This wasn’t normal, even during a fight.  She would at least let him know where she was and that she was safe, even if she didn’t plan to come back that night.  He felt like he was in withdrawal, the unknown eating away at his heart by the second.

The phone rang and he nearly threw it from how bad it scared him, but he quickly answered it.  “Doll?  Where are you?  Are you okay?”

“Is this James Barnes?” A voice said.

Bucky froze.  “Yes.”

“This is Dr. Harris at Mount Sinai Hospital.  Miss Y/N Y/L/N is here.  She just went into surgery after being struck by a car in downtown Manhattan.”  Bucky gasped, a chill running down his spine.  “You’re listed as her emergency contact.  I would suggest coming down as soon as possible.”

“I’m coming now.  Doc, how bad is it?” he asked hesitantly.

“She was stable going into surgery.”

That wasn’t a good enough answer for him, but he choked back a sob in relief that she was at least still alive and fighting.  “I’ll be there soon,” he said quickly, then hung up.  Bucky ran through their floor, gathering things for himself and for Y/N, then had Friday inform the other Avengers about what was going on.  When he reached the parking garage he flung the duffle onto his back and hopped on his motorcycle, revving out like a bat out of hell.  He reached the hospital in record time, parking then running inside inhumanly fast.

Bucky dashed to the receptionist desk.  “Y/N Y/L/N, just got into surgery, what floor is that on?” he barked at the receptionist.

“Visiting hours are over, sir,” the receptionist said, barely glancing at him.

Bucky smacked his metal arm onto the counter, making it crack and she jumped and stared at him.  She seemed to recognize him and shrunk back when she saw the metal hand.  “Floor number.  Now,” he demanded.

“Four,” she whispered.

Bucky gave her a curt nod then ran over to the elevator.  He pushed the button and took the elevator up to the fourth floor, his entire body feeling jittery with anxiety.  When the doors opened he ran down the hall to the second reception area.  “Y/N Y/L/N, in surgery.  Dr. Harris called me?” he huffed at the nurse.

The nurse’s eyebrows raised in recognition then turned and picked up a phone, dialing a number.  “Dr. Harris?  Y/N Y/L/N’s emergency contact is here.”  He hung up the phone and turned to Bucky.  “He’ll be right out.”

Bucky nodded and stepped back towards the chairs in the waiting area in front of the reception desk.  A couple of minutes later a man came walking down the hall.  “Sergeant Barnes?” he asked Bucky.

“Dr. Harris?” Bucky replied.

Dr. Harris shook his hand.  “She’s still in surgery.  They’re fixing a major fracture in her tibia, along her shin.  Otherwise she was really lucky with a minorly fractured collarbone.  No other injuries.”

Bucky sighed, his jaw tightening.  “That’s…that’s good.  What happened?”

Dr. Harris minutely shrugged.  “From what the paramedics said, she was in a crosswalk and some idiot came barreling around the corner through the red light.”

“Were they caught?” Bucky nearly growled.

“Yes.  They had the good sense to not hit and run,” Dr. Harris said.

Bucky nodded.  “Okay, good.  So…what now?”

“She’ll be in a boot for six months, and she’ll need a wheelchair then crutches during that time until she heals enough to walk.  Her collarbone will be set with her arm in a sling, and that’ll take about 10-12 weeks.  It’ll be a lot of physical therapy and patience, and she’ll need a lot of help.”

“No problem.  She has plenty of help,” Bucky said quickly.  “When will she be out of surgery?”

“Should only be about another hour,” Dr. Harris said, glancing at his watch.  “The surgeon will come out when it’s over and give you an update, then when she’s put in a room for recovery you can see her.”

Bucky nodded again and thanked him before Dr. Harris walked back down the hall.  Bucky paced the waiting room for another few minutes, his phone pinging over and over again with texts and calls coming in.  He finally sat down then started answering the messages, giving the Avengers reaching out to him an update.  When he was done he leaned back in the chair, his head thudding against the wall.  He fought back tears, but a few fell through his tightly shut eyes.  He was feeling a million things at once, unsure of what emotion was going to win out in the end.  Was she distracted from their fight that she didn’t see or hear the car coming?  Or was the driver just an idiot, like Dr. Harris said?  He’d never forgive himself if he was to blame for this, even partially.  

***

An hour later Y/N was out of surgery.  Bucky was now surrounded by the rest of the Avengers, waiting to hear anything.  A different doctor came walking out of the double doors down the hallway and Bucky immediately stood and walked over to her.  “How is she?” he asked quietly.

“Y/N is doing great,” the surgeon said with a smile.  “Her leg was set beautifully, and the collarbone was a lot more minor than we thought.  She’s in recovery right now.  We’ll monitor her there for about half an hour then we’ll be moving her to a room.  The reception nurse will tell you which one soon.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said and shook her hand.  

Forty five minutes later the nurse directed him to her room.  Bucky jogged to the room number and walked in as another nurse was getting Y/N set up.  The nurse gave him a short, polite smile.  “The anesthesia will take a little longer to wear off.  She should wake up soon.”

Bucky thanked the nurse as they walked out, and he walked over to Y/N.  She was hooked up to multiple machines, tubes sticking out from her hands and one hooked into her nose.  She was sleeping soundly, and his heart broke as he looked over the bruising peeking out from her hospital gown near her collarbone, her left arm in a sling.  He slowly lifted the blanket covering her legs and saw the boot on her left leg, the skin looking badly bruised and scraped up by her knee.  He set the blanket down and pulled up a chair by the wall to her right side, sitting down and reaching for her hand, holding it firmly.  All the emotions came flooding back and he started crying as he looked up at her face.

“Babydoll,” Bucky sniffled.  “My babydoll.”  He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers, holding her palm up to his face.  “Please wake up.  We need to talk about all this, and get over it, just like we always do.  Please?  Please…”

“Buck.”

His head snapped up at the sound of his name, and he saw her eyes fluttering open.  “Y/N?” he whispered, standing up and looking at her.

Y/N’s head turned to look at him, making her wince.  “What happened?” she asked.

Bucky sighed heavily.  “Do you remember anything?” he asked.

Y/N frowned, blinking slowly.  “I was walking.  Then I heard tires screeching.  Then…pain,” she said.

Bucky nodded.  “You were hit by a car,” he said, his hand reaching up and tucking her hair back.  “Some idiot turned the corner too fast and was not paying attention.”  Y/N frowned deeper, then tried to sit up, gasping at the pain.  “Woah, babydoll, no no no.  You’ve got a minor fracture in your collarbone, and a broken leg.  You need to stay still.”

Y/N’s head leaned back as she hissed through her teeth.  “Well that sucks,” she groaned.

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.  “I know.  But I’m gonna be here to help you every step of the way.”

Y/N relaxed against the bed and looked up at him sadly.  “I’m sorry.  About the fight earlier.  And that I didn’t answer your texts.”

Bucky shook his head quickly.  “I’m sorry.  You were right, I’ve been way too overprotective, and it made me not trust you to take care of yourself.  Though, in my defense, you did just get hit by a car while I wasn’t around to help you.”

Y/N grinned, biting back a laugh.  “True.  But you can’t always be my hero.  Life happens.  Shit like this happens, no matter what we do to try and stay safe.  You have to trust me enough to know that I’m going to do my best to come home to you.”

Bucky’s lips tightened as he fought back more tears.  “I know, I’ll work on it.  I promise.” They stared at each other for another moment before Bucky leaned forward and nuzzled her nose with his.  “For now, just kiss me once, then I’ll kiss you twice, then kiss me once again.”

Y/N hummed at his song reference.  “It’s been a long, long time,” she whispered before angling her head up and kissing him softly.

***

“This is so humiliating.  Every single time,” Y/N griped, holding onto Bucky’s arms as he helped lift her carefully into the bathtub, keeping her left leg that was wrapped in saran wrap above the water.

“You don’t need to feel embarrassed, Y/N,” Bucky said as he eased her down, making sure to prop the broken leg over the edge of the tub before grabbing the soap and lathering his hands.  He reached out and started at her legs first, making sure to get all the little nooks and crannies up her body as he washed her.

“Well, I’m embarrassed,” Y/N said with an annoyed tone.

“You’re healing really well, but it’s only been three months.  Tibia fractures take up to–” “Six months to heal, yes, thank you Dr. Barnes,” Y/N huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.  “Possibly longer.  I get it.”  Bucky sighed and gave her an arched eyebrow.  Y/N’s face softened.  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“I know you’re frustrated, doll,” Bucky said, pulling her arms apart so he could wash her stomach and up her chest.  “But you know I don’t mind helping you.  None of us do.  And this, especially, is my favorite helpful thing to do,” he smirked as his hands washed over her breasts.

“You’re shameless,” Y/N laughed, swatting at his hands.

“But you love me,” Bucky said, leaning forward and kissing her.

Y/N kissed him back.  “Yes, I do.”

[es-3]

i love how no one can remember anything from trc except for vibes and so here’s a list i compiled of everything i remember from the entire series

blue made out with a ghost

the ghost was the funniest character and then everyone realized he was a ghost and then everyone forgot about him

persephone lived in the attic

there was a tree that showed them their worst fears when they went inside it and for whatever reason they took turns going inside it like why did they do that and also i think ronan dreamt it????

im pretty sure the trees spoke latin

was that a thing

now that i’m thinking about it i have no idea

boat shoes

the set up for manmouth manufacturing was set up in a way only teenage boys with no supervision could set up

they pulled a little defense against the dark arts teachers but with latin class instead and but i don’t remember how many latin teachers there were

blue and gansey talked on the phone

and then they took little drives but i don’t remember how often that happened

adam straight up killed a dude

blue is NOT a prostitute but she IS half tree

ronans objects of worship were confined to one downtown block

uhhhh i think there was a part with a lake in a cave and i’m pretty sure there were like deer or something and i think blues dad might have been but i do remember they got split up at some point in that cave

latin teacher killed noah

noah had a red car

i’ve heard there was a toga party but i don’t remember anything from it

ronan did not like lamps

adam is the eyes and ears for a sentient forest

the pig

bees

robot ones too

declan dated a bunch of girls named ashley

there was like a hole??? in the ground?? at school i think??? and henry forced gansey to go in it and then trama dumped and then gave him the most traumatizing exposure therapy of his life

gansey has seen ronans dick at least once

adam and ronan ran around pushing each other in shopping carts

“she makes me quiet”

ronan did imaginary drugs and it ended with his organless brother getting kidnapped because his drug buddy had a big fat crush on him and i’m pretty sure there were fireworks involved in the rescue

did gansey go around knocking on doors and talking to people in different accents or was that lockwood and co? or was it both?

adam and ronan went around moving rocks because the trees that talked to adam told him to

blues aunt had lovely cubby hands also i think she might have been a bad guy but i don’t actually remember

oh there was like a crazy lady they found in a tomb idk why i forgot about her

gansey didn’t want to find glendower that one day because the aesthetic was off

maura and calla and persephone met on the side of a road

ganseys sister can fly helicopters

adam and ronan blackmailed their latin teacher for a fake crime with fake evidence that they dreamt up by making dream latin teacher do those things

the gray man was very slay

also he killed ronans dad

and he worked for the latin teacher

oh and there were sleeping mice

and a sleeping mom

and a toaster that didn’t work anymore

there was a grocery store scene i think and im pretty sure there was fighting in that scene

henry was kidnapped when he wasn’t wearing any pants

that’s all gang, tune in next time to see if i can remember anything from the plot

[mistymisfit]

So long, Marianne IV

Summary: Reader is a spy working undercover in Gotham when she meets Jason Todd, who despite her better judgement she forms a very close friendship with. This story follows their escape from Arkham asylum, their fall out and the times they run into each other as they get older.

Warnings: mentions of sex (but nothing smutty happens), mentions of past torture and sa!!, also one mention of Jason pushing reader's hair back but that's all that's said, no texture or anything specified.

Word Count: 4,1K

a/n: told myself i'd stop posting this series on tumblr and keep it only on ao3 but whatever, i'm having writer's block so idc

Read on ao3

Masterlist - Mobile masterlist

Your first thought is "what are we even doing anymore?" It's great to have him back in your life, but what the fuck is going on? Ever since you worked things out with him after what happened in Gotham, you started to sneak and meet him in secret. First, it was random hotels until he bought a few safe houses in the city. You never went to the same place twice. The safe houses would always switch after a while, he'd sell them and replace them. Out of the current ones, there was one of them uptown, then the other was downtown, and the third one was near the harbors.

You've been doing this for months, secretly meeting him in the dead of night every once in a while, and it'd always end up the same way. You see him, you get overwhelmed with how much you missed him and cry, then he'd wipe your tears off, and you'd sleep with him and leave. Frankly, you were growing a bit tired of it. He wasn't honest to you most of the time, wouldn't even tell you what he did when he was not with you. It didn't matter how great he was, it was exhausting being pushed away this much.

The first time you met him like this you cried, telling him all about how sorry you were for yelling at him like that, for saying all those things to him and leaving so cruelly. And he'd say he was sorry about locking you up and that he was a jerk- you agreed on that. To be fair, you were both wrong; you put yourself in danger going to Gotham that day, but it didn't give him the right to behave like that.

"Let go of me!" You had screamed when he picked you up, carrying you over his shoulder. "I swear to God, Ja-"

He cuts you off with a grunt before you can say his name. You trashed and kicked, but it was no match against his strength. Using your powers was out of the question, freezing him would only make it harder to escape his grasp. In between you cursing and yelling at him, he managed to walk to the military car so he could throw you into the backseat.

"Is this your fucking plan?" You were yelling as he opened the door "Have you lost your mind? You are giving him exactly what he wanted!"

"Shut the fuck up," He whispered angrily, putting a gloved hand over your mouth and hovering over you as you laid on your back. You looked around to see his men on the front seats quickly averting their gaze from you two. Of course, it was all about questioning his authority in front of them, it was fragile like that. "I don't want you to get hurt, so they're going to take you somewhere safe"

You took his hand off your face before saying "And I thought you were making decisions for yourself. Can't you see you're still his puppet? Just stop-"

"Enough, you are leaving. Now" You watched as one of his hands searched something in his pockets, handcuffs. It almost made you want to roll your eyes.

"Ja- Wait, what are you- stop it" You kicked him, trying to get out of his grasp "you're a fucking idiot, you're so brainwashed you can't see you're playing right into his trap"

"Quit it"

"Quit it? Let go of me!" You shrieked as he managed to bound your wrists behind your back. Then the anger got to you and you lowered your voice before you could say the meaner things you could come up with "You never left Arkham, huh? Figured I forgot a part of you there, left your humanity behind"

"Yeah, I'm a real monster sweetheart" He scoffs, and even over the modulated voice, you can tell the hurt in his voice, how much your words were affecting him. It made you feel bad for a second until you remembered how he was treating you.

"Clearly, you're not the person I thought you were." That's the last thing you say to him before he knocks his helmet against your head, rendering you unconscious so you wouldn't escape and ruin his plans.

You woke up with a killer headache and no idea how long you've been out or where you were. What you do know is that you're laying down on a mattress on the floor, no longer handcuffed and with an ice pack on your forehead right were Jason hit you. As you gradually regained consciousness, you started to check your whereabouts before you could move again. The room was dark, had no windows, and looking at the walls, you realized you were at some old, run down abandoned place. Panic quickly washed over you as you checked the state of your clothing; nothing was wrong with it, and you left out a sigh of relief.

You could hear voices outside, not outside the door but a bit further away. Moving as silently as you could, you walked towards the voices, going down a set of stairs and hiding behind a pile of wooden boxes as you tuned into the conversation a few meters away from you. It seemed to be some sort of weapon exchange, as most of you could make out of what they were saying was about either guns or ammo. You could only see the backs of some of Jason's men and not who they were talking to, but you recognized that voice as soon as you heard it. You took a step back, unknowingly knocking over some things and not being able to react and freeze them on time due to the shock. You'd drawn their attention to you now; neither Jason's nor Harley's goons were as fast as her to react.

"You!" She exclaimed in that high-pitched voice of hers, your heart felt heavy in your chest as it felt tighter and tighter and harder to get the air in and out of your lungs. You could feel the acid traveling from your stomach to your mouth and had to swallow down the need to puke."All grownup, Arkham's little princess!"

She kept talking as she walked closer to you, you shook your head saying no, unable to get any word out of pure fear; it had been years since you had felt that helpless. "Ah, you always healed so fast, not a scar on your pretty face, besides you know...that" Her cold fingers traced the tiny scar on the apple of your right cheek before you weakly pushed her hand off.

Your fingers went to your cheekbone, covering over the area you healed all those years ago, Jason didn't know about it. He didn't need to know about the acid burn scar you would have on your face had it not been for your powers.

"You used to be my cutesy dress up doll!"She laughed, grabbing a strand of your hair and twirling it "Remember when you wore my outfits? You looked so adorable!"

Then you remembered you were no longer tied up or keeping a cover or that you haven't been Marianne for a while. So with any and all the strength you could find, you raised your fist and delivered a swift and highly trained blow to her face. The silence that followed was deafening; the militia men were well instructed and had orders not to let anything happen to you, so they were ready to stop the situation from escalating. Stopping Harley's company from getting involved. She spat out blood and smiled, her twisted smile made your stomach turn once more. But you were free, or at least freer, so you grabbed one of her ponytails and smashed her head to the concrete wall. No longer putting up with the torture she put you through.

"What's wrong?" She teased, laughing through it "Didn't cha' miss me too? Cause I sure did! How much fun was it when I nailed your hand to-"

You let go of her hair only to push her away, making her stumble a few steps from you "Shut up, shut the fuck up!"

Then it's her laugh, that wicked, overly exaggerated high laugh that made you launch yourself again at her to fight her before you're stopped, dragged back by someone. You look up to see his expressionless helmet. He's been here this whole time? Didn't matter as you immediately started wriggling, trying to get out of his hold.

"Heal her" He ordered you, you jerk your arm out of his hand and take a few steps back, almost tripping. What? You looked up at him with eyes brimmed with tears begging to be shed and scared at how much he reminded you of him at that moment. It was like you went straight back to your captors, forcing you to heal and slow down his disease.

"No." your voice came out so low and shaky that you almost cringed at yourself.

"Stop causing me so much trouble and fix her face"

"You will not speak to me like that"

"I'll speak however I want, now do as you're told" He grabbed your face harshly; he didn't like the look in your eyes at all, or the fact that he successfully scared you into doing something you didn't want to. A whine escaped your lips as he gripped your jaw tighter, and only eased up once your eyes lit up. He could already feel the guilt eating him up, but his mind was dead set on carrying on with his revenge.

"Harley get you and your people the fuck outta here" He orders, before giving his men the same command. To leave you two alone.

"Gladly," She scoffs, holding her no longer broken nose "it was good to see ya' again"

"You're working with her?" you recriminated, shoving him and getting out of his grip once she left

"She works for me."

"Don't you dare touch me," you stepped back, raising your arms defensively when he tried to reach out for you "you heard her, you know what she did-"

"I'm using her, it's part of a plan"

"Did this big plan of yours really need her?" You sighed, wiping the tears that fell down your face; again, you found yourself crying over the same thing. Something you thought you had pushed down years ago. His silence gave you all the answers you needed

"Fine, I'm leaving"

"Wait a-" His hand caught your wrist.

"Let go of me," You struggled out of his hold "I don't even know who the fuck you are anymore. Working with her, all of them, you really are just one of the people you used to chase"

He opened his mouth to say something, not that you would know under the mask, but stopped when you added one last thing before you left. "You're just like him, and killing Batman won't fix the shell of a man you are"

Jason regretted what he did, his revenge plan didn't seem as important when he broke down after being unable to kill Bruce. He had him, but he didn't manage to pull it off. He lamented it especially when he needed you so badly to tell him it'd be okay and he wasn't a failure but you wouldn't, and now he'd probably lost that comfort forever due to his own doing.

He thought very differently. From his point of view, he was coming to you whenever he needed a decent sleep. It seemed this was the only way he could get at least an hour of useful rest, he thought fucking you was a way of making you hate him less. Maybe if he made you feel good, then you'd let him get close. It was his very fucked up way of saying he was sorry. This was the routine until tonight when he showed up incredibly injured, talking about some black mask character-- whoever that was. He had broken a few ribs and his nose; his body was poorly stitched in multiple places, and you were sure he had more wounds than those he admitted. It was a miracle he managed to leave Gotham to see you. Despite his insistence on being okay and that he was not in pain, you got to healing him.

"You have-"He whispers, wiping the blood off your nose.

"Oh it happens sometimes," You brush it off, taking the tissue from him. "do you feel better?"

"Mhm, thanks" He nods, cupping the back of your head with his hand and pushing you into a kiss.

"Wait, you should rest" You sighed "I haven't healed you completely "

"I know-" He smirks, kissing you again.

"Jay, I don't want to" You put your hand on his chest, trying to get some distance.

He sighs getting away from you and sitting as far as he could on the couch. Even if he was pissing you off, you've grown to appreciate seeing him in casual clothes. Right now, he was wearing a (way too tight) black shirt, his cargo pants as well as his boots were also black. He'd lost the leather jacket the second he walked through the door of the safe house, the safe house he'd bought to be able to meet you. You knew that with Jason you had to take what you could get, so you cherished seeing him dress like a normal person for the actual weather and not being covered from head to toe. You sigh back, rolling your eyes, and crawling to his side.

"Can't we just talk?" You whisper, tracing circles on his chest and hoping he wouldn't just get up and leave.

"Talk? " He chuckles in disbelief "What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know, anything" You shrug, but a smile creeps up your lips when he turns to see you.

"How was your day at work?" He teases, knowing you wouldn't tell him about that.

"Ugh," You complain, but when you try to get away from him he is fast to grab you and pull you flush to his chest "Jason, is this all that you want from me?"

"What do you mean?" He lets go of you enough so you can put your arms on him to prop yourself up to look him in the eye.

"Sex, Jay" You sigh exasperated "Do you visit me just 'cause you want to get laid?"

He's taken aback by your question; you wanted more from him? Also, is that what you think of him? And on your side, you can't decipher his expression. Sometimes you miss being 16 and knowing exactly what went through his mind. He used to be so easy to read, now it's like he's purposely closing off any and all information he didn't want to give to you willingly. You had your suspicions that he'd come see you just because it was easier for him than letting some random girl see his scars, you even doubted he went out at all for the very same reason. You figured maybe it was easier to let his guard down with you since you had already seen the worst of him and been through the same. Maybe it was just convenient that he was still in touch with his high school sweetheart.

He shakes his head no, regretting giving you that impression. His cheeks blushed thinking he was to blame for it, remembering how he broke into your apartment that night. He intended to apologize, in between his new activity as Red Hood, he'd found the time to search for you in Bludhaven like he was originally meant to before you found him first. He stood on the roof of a building in front of yours for weeks before he actually tried to contact you, going over and over again if you'd even want to know anything from him. Eventually, he grew a pair, missing you far outweighed the shame he felt.

"Shit," You cursed when you saw him standing on your apartment "you can't be here"

He was disappointed by your reaction, yet he knew he should be grateful you weren't greeting him with a punch to his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but you immediately signaled him to stop. You looked around for a pen and paper and wrote down: meet me at the Harborview plaza 3 streets down. I'll get a room and leave the window open for you.

He agreed with a silent nod and left through your window, he made his way to where you told him to meet you. Jason knew he was in no position to question you and ask why wouldn't you want him in your apartment. He clearly knew where you lived, so keeping that a secret wasn't an issue. He expected yelling, cursing; Jason knew you never held back any words when mad at him. While overthinking your skittish behavior, he finally sees you open the window on a seventh floor. Of course, you couldn't have made it easy and asked for a room on the first floor, but then again he was the one taking you to the top of Gotham's skyscrapers so you could marvel at the view when you were 16.

"You shouldn't have gone there, we don't know if they're listening" You explained as soon as he came in through the window.

"I-uh,sorry" He's had months to think about what to say to you, but now that you're in front of him he's at a loss for words. No speech he had prepared came to his aid. "I didn't think about that"

He reaches for his bike helmet, undoing the buckle under his chin so he could drop it and see you. Or mainly so you could see him, maybe it was selfish of him, but he wanted someone to see him, look him in the eye and not be scared of him. Jason wanted to know if he could still count on you for that.

"I'm so sorry," You started to sniff as soon as you saw his face, wiping the tears with the sleeves of your sweater "I never should've said those things to you"

"No, I'm sorry"He finally took a step closer to you, pulling you in for a hug "I'd never forgive me if I were you"

"I don't think you're like him at all, I'm sorry I told you that" Your cries turned into sobbing, and suddenly you couldn't hold back any emotion anymore as you set the waterfalls of your eyes free. It was like a dam broke when you saw him, and everything you've been pushing down was now out in the open and you couldn't control it. He let you cry into his chest, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing your back to comfort you. After a while, when the sobbing didn't seem to calm down, he guided you to sit on the bed. Wiping the tears from your face with his thumbs. Kneeling down in front of you, he told you to take deep breaths, helping you relax.

"Baby," he whispered, kissing your knee over the jeans you wore "I keep fucking everything up with you, can you forgive me?"

You nodded, still tearing up and opening up your arms, so he'd come up and hug you. He does so, pushing your back to the bed and laying on top of you in the process. You're about to say you're sorry again when he kisses you. He stops, giving you a second to tell him to fuck off and looking for a response in your eyes. Lucky for him, you understood his silent question and nodded as your fingers ran through the back of his hair, and he lowered himself once more to kiss you saying, "I'm sorry, I'll never do that again to you"

So with Jason finding himself sleeping and waking up with more energy, your little rendezvous started. He's only realizing now that he has been giving you a wrong impression all this time. He sighs before, in a rare flash of vulnerability, he tells you what he thinks.

"I've been trying to make it up to you," his eyes dart to the floor, he's got every right to still be embarrassed about kidnapping you and what he made you do "make you hate me less"

The closest he's been to opening up like this was that one time when he had you wrapped under his arms, your skin touching his, and the question slipped from his overworked mind through his lips: "Are you scared of me?" You shook your head no, pressing a kiss to his scarred chest as you drifted off asleep. "No, no I'm not. We're okay," you had mumbled in response.

"I don't hate you, Jay" Music to his ears, he even contemplates asking you to say it again

"But you cry every time we meet"

"I-" You don't want to admit he has a great point, besides now that you think about it, this is the first time you ever said no to him "I have my reasons, besides you cry too, does that mean you hate me?"

"No" He defends himself, damn it, he thought he was hiding it well "I could never hate you, I love you no what ifs"

You smiled sweetly; that was what you said to him once. Many many years ago, when he was still Robin, it felt you were both completely different people from that distant memory where you told him "I love no what ifs, Jay". He had laughed then, now you doubted he would ever be that joyful again.

"Come on, you used to tell me everything," You encourage him "tell me something, anything"

"Anything?" He pushes your hair back, and you nod eagerly "You don't look like a Marianne, or a Penny, or any of your other aliases"

"Really?" You raise an eyebrow in fake disbelief, you never felt those names suited you anyways"Does my real name fit me better?"

"Yes," He whispers with his hand cupping your cheek. Even if your situation is not the best or what he'd hoped for when you first met, he's still glad to have you around. Sometimes, he remembers all the dreams and plans he had and holds back from scoffing when he recalls how he already made his world spin around you before you even kissed.

"You know," Now your hand caresses his scarred cheek "my offer still stands, I can try to get rid of your scar if you want to"

He blinks, not knowing how to take your words. Did it bother you? Did it make you like him less? He takes your hand off his face, and with that, he withdraws the hand in yours. Your expressions turns sadder, he can tell, so instead, he opts to deflect the conversation as he usually does.

"Can I ask you something?" He changes the subject, and you nod, allowing him to do so even if it's exhausting at this point "Would you ever want to get out?"

"Jay-" you sigh, knowing where this conversation is headed. You couldn't leave with him, no matter how badly you wanted to. "You know I can't"

"I asked if you wanted, not if you could" He insists, secretly hoping you give him the answer he expects. Give him a sign of how important he is to you, he'd drop his Red Hood persona in a second if you asked. He's learned his lesson after being the knight, and he's been trying to redeem himself by taking out the bad guys in Gotham instead of working with them.

"Of course I want to but-"

"We could find a way out, I-" he doubts but decides to push through "want more than this"

"Hm, you want me to be your real girlfriend?" you hum, your expression softening and your shoulders relaxing as you played with his hair, him leaning into your touch which he finally learned to enjoy. "You'll finally take me out on a real date?"

"Yes, everything," He closed his eyes, relaxing even more. His tone also weakened, becoming almost a pathetic whimper as he made promises to you "whatever you want"

"You'll be honest with me?" You question, your free hand going to the other side of his face, making him look at you.

"Yes, I promise" He replies, holding your gaze "We'll work something out"

"Okay, I'll get you as much information as I can." You nodded, maybe you could hold onto the hope that he'd put his brain and abilities to good use and he could find the way out that you couldn't. Maybe two heads can think better than one alone.

[may-russell]

Just the two of us… 🎶☕️

You work at a coffee shop and once Hamzah notices you, he becomes a regular.

Word count: 2875 (sorry if it's too long)

!hamzah x fem reader.

!slowburn?

Part 2/3:

As Hamzah was walking towards his car, he kept reliving that last moment between you two, the ambiance in the coffee shop, how you looked, your smile, how you waved at him goodbye, maybe it wasn’t that deep and he was just romanticizing that last interaction. Either way, the chances of something like that happening again were low, he might as well forget about it.

He got into his car, and as he turned it on the radio went off, "Good evening, Toronto! I'm Stevie, your host for tonight, and you're tuned in to Jazz.fm. Get ready to unwind with a timeless favorite, 'Just The Two Of Us' by the one and only Grover Washington Jr. Sit back, relax, and let the music take you on a journey through the night." And just like that he was thinking of excuses to go back and talk to you. –I could pretend I forgot something…  but maybe she’s already gone… I could go back tomorrow and be like ‘Oh I just LOVEEE the coffee here’… hundreds of people go there everyday she won’t even remember me… Why am I even thinking this much about her? She’s just a barista. I don’t even know her. Fuck. I want to know her. This seems like something I should journal about- The drive back home was short, it’s surprising how time works when you’re hyperfocused on something, he was in that coffee shop all afternoon, and even after it closed, but it still wasn’t enough.

Once he was finally home he started to unpack his backpack… “Shit, I did actually forget something. Guess I’m going back tomorrow”.

Next morning

MONDAY

It’s 8:45 am, Hamzah is getting out of the shower and is starting to get ready for the day. He checks his phone and, according to google, the café is about to open, he’s already changed his outfit twice, and ended up settling on a purple hoodie, jeans and a gray hat, something casual whilst still trying to look nice, he even put on cologne. His plan is to run some errands, swing by the coffee shop to retrieve his notebook, and who knows, maybe run into the cute girl he hasn’t stopped thinking about. Oh, and, since he’s already in the area, he’s also meeting Martin for lunch downtown after that.

Once he finishes having breakfast, Hamzah checks his appearance one last time in the mirror, adjusting the tilt of his hat and smoothing down the sleeves of his hoodie. He feels a nervous excitement bubbling inside him as he heads out the door.

As he runs his errands  throughout the morning, his mind keeps drifting back to the coffee shop and the barista. He finds himself taking longer than usual at each stop, mentally rehearsing what he might say if he sees her again. At the hardware store, he absentmindedly compares different shades of paint for his new apartment, thinking about whether she would prefer a cozy warm tone or something brighter.

While picking up groceries, he debates whether to buy something special from the bakery section of the supermarket, just in case he gets the chance to share it with her. Each item he picks up reminds him of their brief encounter—the smell of fresh-baked bread brings back memories of the coffee shop, and he can almost taste the cappuccino and chocolate donut he had the day before.

By the time he finishes his errands, he realizes it's almost time to swing by the coffee shop. He checks his phone nervously, wondering if she'll be there today. His heart races with anticipation as he imagines walking in and seeing her smile again.

He gets on his car and drives, as he reaches the familiar corner where the coffee shop stands, he notices a few early risers already seated outside, sipping their morning brew. Hamzah's heart skips a beat as he pushes open the door, the soft jingle announcing his arrival.

Inside, the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee envelops him, mingling with the soft chatter of other customers. Hamzah spots the counter where he had talked to the barista yesterday, but to his disappointment, she's not there. He tries to hide his frown, reminding himself that she might be in the back or arriving later.

Approaching the counter, He asks the barista on duty about his lost notebook. The young woman, not the one he hoped to see, smiles politely and checks behind the counter. After a brief search, she returns empty-handed, apologizing that she doesn't see any notebooks left behind. Just as Hamzah was turning around to leave, relief washed over him as Ethan, the familiar barista from the previous evening, entered the frame holding his black hardcover notebook. "Wait. Is this your notebook?" Ethan asked, handing it over. "The barista working last night told me you might come back for it."

Hamzah's face lit up again. "Thanks! Is she around? I'd like to thank her."

Ethan's expression shifted slightly. "No, she's not here today, but I'll pass on the message that you got it back."

Hamzah pressed further, his eagerness evident. "Do you know when she'll be here? Maybe tomorrow?"

Ethan hesitated, sensing Hamzah's persistence. "She's not coming tomorrow either."

"Well, when is she working next?" Hamzah asked, oblivious to Ethan's growing discomfort.

"Look man," Ethan began, trying to keep his tone friendly yet firm, "I can't give out that information. I'm sure you mean well, but I can't help you."

Hamzah finally caught on, feeling embarrassed. "Sorry, I just... I had a nice chat with her last night, and I forgot to ask for her name. I didn't mean to be weird or anything."

Ethan nodded understandingly. "I get it, but you'll have to swing by some other time if you want to see her again."

"Thanks, and sorry again," Hamzah said, realizing he had crossed a boundary. With a nod of farewell, he left the coffee shop, feeling disappointed yet understanding of Ethan's position.

After leaving the coffee shop, Hamzah made his way downtown to meet Martin for lunch. As he walked through the bustling streets of Toronto, his mind wandered back to his brief visit to the coffee shop and the disappointment of not seeing the barista again. He replayed the conversation with Ethan in his head, wondering when he might have another opportunity to return.

Arriving at their favorite lunch spot, Hamzah spotted Martin already seated at a corner table, waving enthusiastically as he approached. The restaurant buzzed with the hum of conversations and clinking of cutlery, creating a lively atmosphere that contrasted with the quiet of the coffee shop.

"Hey man, you made it!" Martin greeted him with a grin, gesturing for Hamzah to take a seat. "What's up? You seem a bit distracted."

Hamzah slid into the chair opposite Martin, trying to shake off his thoughts about the barista. "Yeah, just had a morning errand to run," he replied vaguely, not wanting to burden Martin with his romantic musings just yet.

Martin raised an eyebrow teasingly. "Morning errand, huh? Anything exciting happen?"

Hamzah chuckled nervously, deciding to share a toned-down version of his coffee shop visit. "Not really, just went to pick up something I left behind yesterday."

Martin leaned in curiously. "Oh? What did you forget?"

"My notebook," Hamzah explained briefly. "I left it at this new coffee shop I checked out yesterday. The barista there... she was really nice."

Martin's eyes lit up with interest. "Ah, I see where this is going. Did you get her number?"

Hamzah sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Nah, I didn't even get her name. And when I went back today, she wasn't there."

Martin frowned sympathetically. "Bummer, man. But hey, maybe it's fate. You'll probably run into her again."

"Yeah, maybe," Hamzah agreed half-heartedly. "Anyway, how's your day been so far?"

The conversation drifted to lighter topics as they ordered their lunch and caught up on each other's lives. Martin shared updates about his work projects, and Hamzah talked about his plans for the podcast and the ongoing move. Despite his disappointment from earlier, being with Martin helped to lighten his mood.

As they finished their meal and paid the bill, Hamzah felt a renewed sense of determination. He knew he would visit the coffee shop again, notebook or no notebook, in the hope of seeing the barista once more. Maybe next time, he thought to himself, he would remember to ask for her name.

Your Pov:

MONDAY

It’s 6:00 in the morning, you’ve just woken up, you’re mustering up the strenght to get out of bed and start getting ready for work. You play your favorite playlist and get dressed, still tired from getting home later than usual last night, but hanging around that cute guy made it a bit worth it. As you make breakfast, you hear a familiar tune

-I see the crystal raindrops fall And the beauty of it all Is when the sun comes shining through To make those rainbows in my mind When I think of you sometime And I wanna spend some time with you-

Suddendly you’re dancing around your kitchen, having one of those “Ah, this is the life” moments, realizing it would be much more exciting if there was someone dancing and singing next to you, but you can’t let those thoughts haunt you for long, the day has just begun. You check yourself in the mirror before heading out the door, you get in your car and it makes that same weird sound it’s been making for the past week, “Mhm, I’m sure it’s nothing” you say, brushing it off, and off you go.

At around 11 am you get a text from Ethan, “Hey, the guy from last night came by to pick up his notebook. He kept asking about you”. “What did he say?” You texted back.

“Not much, he wanted to know your name, and was pretty insistent on when he could see you again to “thank you”  👀 a bit weird”.

“Ohhh u should’ve told him, he was cute lol”

“haha I’m sure he’ll come back”.

You put your phone down and continued doing your work, you thought thinking about him throughout the day was too much, but it seemed like his interest was more than a simple “thank you”. Like there was some unfinished busssiness between the both of you.  As you went about your tasks, the memory of his earnest inquiries lingered in the back of your mind. You couldn't help but wonder what he was like beyond that brief interaction—what his name was, what he did when he wasn't at the coffee shop, and why he seemed so eager to see you again.

Despite trying to push the thoughts aside, you found yourself checking your phone a little too often, half-expecting another message from Ethan with an update. Each time, you told yourself to focus on your work, but the anticipation was undeniable.

As the day progressed, you couldn't shake the feeling that his visit had left a mark. It wasn't just about retrieving a forgotten notebook anymore; there seemed to be an unspoken connection, a curiosity that went beyond politeness. Maybe he would come back, you mused, imagining the possibility of seeing him again. You’ve never been more excited to clock in at work on a weekend.

WEDNESDAY

It’s been three days since your last (and only) encounter. Hamzah is out for a run, “Bags” by Clairo’s playing on his AirPods—‘Can you see me? I’m waiting for the right time. I can’t read you but if you want the pleasure is all mine’—he hums along, remembering a clip of a genius interview where Clairo explained the meaning behind the song, how when you have a crush on someone, every minute you’re not spending with them feels like a waste of time, and, inevitably, he was thinking about you again.

This whole infatuation feels a bit ridiculous to Hamzah, but no one had taken his interest like that before, plus he had already embarrassed himself to you coworker, he was already in too deep to not see where going down this road would lead him. He felt an unexplainable attraction towards a complete stranger, like there was a rope in his chest pulling him to you, to that coffee shop, and before he realized it, he was there again, it was like he was running on autopilot and his subconcsious had taken him there, I mean, he was planning on paying a visit today, but not now; he hadn’t thought about what he would say if you we’re there, but he couldn’t stop himself from walking in.

He approached the counter, skimming through the menu, his order was still as basic as before, but this time he got an oatmeal and green apple cookie instead of a chocolate donut. “Is this to go? Or to eat here?” The cashier asked as he turned his head to face him “Hey! It’s you again”.

“Heeeyyy, I’m back” Hamzah  shyly replied, “Umm, to go, please”.  

“Yeah, I figured. She’s not here btw, but she said you were good, come back on Saturday”.

Hamzah’s eyes widen, a smile creeping into his lips, he tries to play it cool but the excitement in his voice was evident. “She said that? She’ll be here?”.

“Yeah haha, here you go” Ethan replied with a smile.

“Thanks! Guess I’ll see you in a few days, um… Ethan,” He said pointing to the nametag hanging on the cashier’s black apron, “I’m Hamzah” He continued, reaching out for  handshake.

“Yeah, see you.” Ethan says, shaking his hand back.

Hamzah left the coffee shop with a newfound sense of anticipation for Saturday. The thought of seeing you again lingered in his mind as he drove home. He couldn’t help but replay the brief interactions and your smile, which seemed to brighten the entire coffee shop.

As the week progressed, Hamzah found himself constantly thinking about Saturday. He went about his usual routines, working on his podcast episodes, filming with Martin and settling into his new apartment, but your image kept creeping into his thoughts. He wondered what Saturday would bring—would you remember him? Would you be as friendly and approachable as before?

Saturday finally arrived...

and Hamzah found himself standing outside the coffee shop, trying to calm his nerves. He wore a casual outfit, hoping to strike the right balance between laid-back and presentable. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The familiar aroma of coffee greeted him, mingling with the soft hum of conversations. Ethan was behind the counter again, and as soon as he spotted Hamzah, he grinned knowingly. Hamzah approached with a hesitant smile.

"Hey, Ethan! Is she here today?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Ethan chuckled. "Yeah, she's around. Just a sec."

Hamzah's heart raced as Ethan disappeared into the back. He glanced around the coffee shop, spotting you arranging cups on a nearby shelf. You looked up, and for a moment, your eyes met. A smile tugged at your lips as recognition sparked between you.

Hamzah felt a rush of relief and excitement. When Ethan returned, he gestured towards you. "Hey, she'll be with you in a moment."

Sure enough, you approached the counter with a warm smile. "Hey! You’re back. Heard you’ve been asking about me," you greeted him.

"Yeah, couldn't resist coming back," Hamzah replied with a sheepish grin. "I wanted to thank you properly for last time."

You chuckled softly. "No problem at all. What were you working on that day? You seemed pretty focused."

"Oh, just some podcast stuff and a bit of writing," Hamzah explained, feeling more at ease now that he was talking to you again.

"That's cool," you said, nodding. "Well, I'm glad you came back. Can I get you anything today?"

Hamzah glanced at the menu, though he had already decided on something basic. "Just a cappuccino and... another chocolate donut, please."

You nodded, punching in his order. As you prepared it, the conversation flowed easily between you. Hamzah learned a bit more about you—your interests, your love for books and jazz music, and your favorite places in Toronto. He shared some details about his work and recent move, finding common ground in unexpected places.

When you handed him his order, Hamzah hesitated for a moment. "Hey, I know this might be forward, but would you like to grab coffee or something sometime? Outside of this coffee shop, I mean," he asked, hoping he wasn't coming on too strong.

Your smile widened, and you glanced at Ethan who was discreetly giving you an encouraging nod. "I'd like that," you replied. "Here, let me give you my number."

Hamzah's heart leaped with joy as he took your phone and entered his number. "Great, I'll text you so you have mine too," he said, handing your phone back to you.

As Hamzah left the coffee shop that day, he couldn't stop smiling. He had come back hoping to see you again, and now he had plans to meet up outside of work. It felt like the beginning of something exciting, and he couldn't wait to see where it would lead.

hope u like it! Part 3

@1800-love-me

[tomatoluvr69]

Helene floods diary/blog entry 10/11/2024.

Mentions of severe disaster, death/child death, burials/funerals, and of course a splash of deep illness and ed. TLDR it’s very very hard here but I’m more or less ok.

Hi everyone :-)

Greetings from [Appalachian town absolutely shattered by Hurricane Helene floods]. Slowly crawling my way out of the indescribable wreckage. No idea when I’ll be back to work, but received word that every one of my students survived the storm, which is a huge, profound relief. I’ve changed my post-storm efforts from direct mutual aid stuff to burial. Lowered a stranger into her grave and then filled it in manually. No family could be present. There are more next week. Every single day is so hard. Drove with a friend who lives in [one of the hardest hit towns— this place is GONE.] to mourn and get some supplies— he was stranded in his home without information or ability to cook hot meals for over a week. I used to live on the outskirts of that town— I really cannot sum into words how disturbing it is to the core of a person to see places you know so well in utter, severe destruction, soldiers crawling throughout. It’s like trying to describe the color purple to a worm or something. These floods have changed me. Yesterday I went to drop off a load of hazard protection gear in Marshall, NC, where signs read, “WARNING: MUD IS TOXIC. May cause: Disease, Fatigue, Dysentery, Headaches, Lung Infections, Staph Infections. Please Decontaminate Before Going To Kitchen Or Eating.” And on our way back home through downtown (google the downtown, seriously. These are places I went in the before times, visiting with friends, buying groceries, going to friends’ gigs at a now-obliterated bar called Mal’s) we forgot to roll the windows up, until a cloud of dust hit our eyes and lungs. Feeling okay so far, but god only knows.

But my work at the ecoburial sanctuary feels like a respite. There are just a couple people at each burial, proxies for the decedent’s loved ones who can’t come in because of the severely damaged infrastructure and lack of places to stay. The entire city has been without water for over two weeks now. Power is an unreliable commodity, as is internet and phone service. I feel honored to have this opportunity, and grateful for a way to be useful— I was struggling with the executive functioning necessary to carry out my supply runs, to budget the donations and read the lists, then sort and organize drop offs. My brain is genuinely impaired from what I’ve seen. But I see the community at work and trust the people in my network to continue that work. To lower caskets and shovel earth feels better. On Wednesday, the day of my first burial, I went the entire day without the gaping, gnawing dread, sorrow, fear, and stress that’s been my constant companion.

There are learning centers cropping up around the city, schools still being out indefinitely, and the school I work for will likely establish one over the next few weeks in an outlying town that gains water service— likely a few makeshift classrooms in a disused church or fire hall, something like that. And I’ll rejoin as soon as I can, many of the staff having young children they’ve had to evacuate. I work at the elementary level, and I miss my students, I want to provide the stability of a familiar face, but I also sort of can’t fathom returning to work. To bury people is wordless, your body knows what to do. There is no thought required. I can let the boundless grief and sorrow pool within me, and ease it with every thrust of the shovel. It’s getting cool here in the mountains, but the days are still warm enough— crisp October skies, autumn foliage, all that stuff. A gorgeous time to be buried. I would do it every day for a year if I could. But life here is making awkward, creaking lurches towards normalcy, and schools are vital. So I’m soaking in this strange, sacred interlude while I can, laying a stranger’s flood-bloated remains to rest, lowering my head to the mourner’s Kaddish or Nicene creed, grieving tremendously.

Furthermore, the outpouring of support is drying up. You see disaster relief convoys leaving, meal distros shuttering, October rent coming due in full. You get screamed at in traffic, your roommate’s car gets rear-ended by an internet cable repair truck, in the midst of his mourning a family of four. Now comes phase two: the community is still shattered, but you’re expected to function as normal. And you cannot even shower or defecate at home. No one cares anymore what’s happening to Western NC/Eastern TN, and I understand, as I understood when a mass shooting killed 11 at a synagogue three blocks from my childhood home while I was away in NC, as I understand with guilt each time a distant tragedy lands and is forgotten— no one has the bandwidth for everything. It’s simply not possible. But it is surreal to stumble around a shattered world and know that you’re in an island. I already have given up trying to relay what things are like to people outside Helene. Maybe one day. But there aren’t really words for such a visceral trauma. The things I’ve seen will be with me, cluttering my dreams and thoughts, until I die myself. I’m uninterested in making myself heard. I’m alright and I’m not. What I can do for right now is try to feed myself and my community, try to make sure I visit a toilet at least every other day, and show up to the graveyard. I really will be okay. But it’s so surreal, and terrible. Please, for the love of god, if you can help it, never ever live next to a river, and don’t cross floodwaters. The homes, the family members, and the friends people here have lost. It’s unfathomable. I’m gonna try to track down a shower today. All you can really do is move forward. I feel like I’ve finally passed the stage where I was catatonic for hours at a time, which feels nice. I’ve been there before even pre-flood, but it’s so much harder to crawl back from when the things you need, like hygiene, sleep, routine, hydration, and healthy foods are all intermittently accessible and tremendously hard to acquire. But I’m trying now, which is something; I have the goal of two meals a day, two jugs potable water, two showers a week. I’m doing okay again. I’m in financial ruin, it’s really fucking hard. And my ED troubles are back with a vengeance— again, all the measures I have to combat this stuff are prohibitively difficult. I may have to finally cave and go to a grocery distro myself, just to get some healthy foods. Even though grocery stores are open, I am genuinely too traumatized to handle them right now. When im not proactive, which is often, im freezing cold and faint, hyperconvinced all foods are poison. There are times when I could get a hot meal at one of the distribution sites but I cannot eat it because of how triggering and uncertain it feels.

So it’s hard to take care of myself. But I don’t know that layering my trauma of my involuntary hospitalization from my teenage years over my flood trauma and food trauma is possible. And even then there’s no real way to get help right now. All the health centers are either closed or booked out indefinitely. So what, I’m gonna drive to Charlotte for care? Or get telehealth when there’s no place to even do a video call? It is what it is but hey, it’s not great. But I’m ok. Got some fruit and bread, made some rice. I have to remind myself I’m very sick, of course I can struggle with this flood more than, say, my well roommate out chainsawing roads in Swannanoa every day. But every meal really is such a struggle. I got a banana outside a church earlier while I was trying to find a water truck and now my next task is get some dinner. A normal person in my circumstances would be fully equipped to eat healthily by this point, we can refrigerate and cook now. But I’m unwell and it’s hard. But maybe I will let my friend pick up some stuff soon, some bananas and tofu and milk. It’s also hard because we have to use our extremely hard-gotten potable water to wash cooking dishes, so it’s hard to like batch cook a huge batch of dal which is what I usually do when I’m struggling to feed myself, because it means having to do another big water run a lot sooner. But this is a chronic condition and I know its contours, I’ll be ok, even though it’s severely challenging. I have got to work on invalidating myself less, and telling myself my chronic condition isn’t worthy of aid. But the guilt is too overpowering to take advantage of it. So many people lost their entire homes. And even though I’m in dire straits financially and have invisible disabilities and illnesses, I still can’t let myself receive help. But I have hard days and easier ones and if I’m proactive I know how to turn them into easier days. It’s just hard. It’s so much easier to lie in my bed and watch the light on the wall shift for hours. So I fall into that trap sometimes. Especially now that temperatures are falling into the forties and fifties at times, and my window got shattered, and I can’t eat so I’m cold all the time, it’s just so much more comfortable to lie in bed and then I get trapped lol.

All that sounds very grim but really, I’m okay. Part of me still really acutely yearns to get out of WNC for awhile but I don’t think I could be cut off from my community right now, and the closest person in my life is enduring tremendous grief (four people, drowned! Two boys under ten! Bodies found all the way in Tennessee!) and I cannot conscionably leave him, even if I’m struggling to manage my illness here, even if he’d urge me to go, I wouldn’t want that. We tried for a couple days in Durham and it was profoundly terrible in its own way.

So I’ll go back to the cemetery, and then I’ll go back to work at school, whenever that may be. And one day the shower and the toilet will be back, and the grocery stores will have safe foods I can eat. And I’m very acutely aware of all the people, especially in Gaza and Sudan and displaced by imperial interests from which I benefit, who will not regain that stability— my disaster is, at least, the whim of nature, theirs is manmade. I’ve been carrying the trauma of destruction & feeling grief for Gaza in an even deeper way. WNC will pull through, if deeply scarred— i at least have that consolation. It almost feels as if I’ve endured nothing at all. I’m incredibly aware that the water truck I can go to is provided by the same government bankrolling unfathomable death and despair of people in an even more brutally shattered world. The scale of trauma is just beyond imagination. My fury has only increased.

I hope everyone on here is well— I’ve really loved having this space over the past few years, it is such a tremendous mental respite even in antediluvian times, and I am anxiously awaiting having power and internet restored so I can regain that sense of normalcy as well. I fucking miss scrolling, yall. I’m at a Buddhist monk’s house to download some forms I have to fill out and wanted to blog a bit. Please everyone have a really nice hot shower for me and watch a good movie, have a glass of wine with a hot dinner. And give a few bucks to relief efforts in Gaza. WNC will rebuild, Gaza cannot. Much love, your favorite natural disaster survivor ❤️

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Hey S! My mind is in the gutter again (when is it not?) and I mean after all these years Anthony (Mackie) must’ve walked in on Chris and Sebastian doing the dirty.

So imagine: They’re filming catws and I don’t think that Chris and Sebastian would have told him about their relationship. Yeah, maybe they know that Anthony has his suspicions and they’d be okay with him knowing, but they just haven’t had that talk yet, y know. And Anthony’s a smart man, he already knows, gives them knowing glances (we’ve seen them enough in interviews). But then, they go film on a different location and they stay in hotel rooms. It’s already late, maybe they all went out for drinks after filming and Chris and Sebastian got back earlier to have some fun of their own. When they check in and they go to their room, they don’t open all the doors, because they’re too busy getting each other naked and finding the bed.

Anthony on the other hand also came back, he got the room next door. He does open all the doors and sadly, the hotel forgot to close the door that intertwines the rooms (like for families and or people who want a really big room?) and there right in front of him. Is Sebastian riding the living hell out Chris, moaning at Chris’ dirty talk. Anthony screamed like a 9yo girl (he would never admit it) traumatized by the sight, but happy for his friends.

From that moment on Anthony’s their proud supporter and he will forever tease them about their sex life.

Okay so sorry for that, but I needed to get that out and I really want a better writer (like you, Sir;)) to write this.

For reference, my ask box is no longer open for requests, but this is from before I closed it, so I will be writing for this ask.

Hey! Lmao, fair enough, I fucking feel that shit. I live in the gutter at this point. I do not leave. And as far as poor, poor Anthony having to put up with Chris and Sebastian's shit...

May I interest you in this semi-recent ask answer from Minnie (@musette22) on this exact subject? Because, fuck yeah, you're not the only one thinking about it, lol. Also, though, I will add to that ask answer with another fic rec from Minnie that sort of fits the bill. Depending on how you look at it, haha. Technically Mackie doesn't walk in on them, he's already there when they get started, but still, I love the fic! It's "Intervention" by musette22 on AO3. Highly recommend!

Imagine, yes, though, I will 👀

(This was going to be actual smut, but then I couldn't help myself, and it turned into crack, so, my apologies. But I think I had more fun writing Mackie getting punked, anyway 💀💀)

Anthony has been dragged around on his fair share of film sets and he's been in the middle of fucking nowhere for that shit before. Thank you, no thank you, Hurt Locker, in the middle of the goddamn desert with practical explosions that blew them back onto their asses. Literally.

So, he thinks he's pretty damn lucky to have it nice and cushy this time as far as filming locations go. First in Cali, L.A. babyyy, then Washington D.C., and now Ohio. Sure, Ohio is a fucking abyss in the middle but Cleveland isn't so bad. It's nice. The location, the film budget, and his friends. It's all nice. Chris is a good buddy, Sebastian he hasn't seen much of but he's getting to know more every time he does and they have a scene together, and Scarlet, well, Anthony wants to see a hell of a lot more of Scarlet. Maybe before the movie and press are up he can convince Chris to tell him the secret to working on too many fucking movies with the same person. Yeah, that'd be good. He's gonna do that. That's a good plan.

He's set up good. He's got a good life. And he's had a good fucking night, following Evans around in downtown, club to bar to club to club--who knew Cleveland would have so many places to party, goddamn--after a day of relentless filming.

At some point after tipsy but before outrageously drunk, where Anthony is now, Chris and Sebastian split off from the group and disappeared. Anthony didn't let himself worry about it, they got it covered, and knowing how Chris gets when the lights go down, he was probably just off to a different place with some new friend he made and charmed the pants off of. It's no big deal. Everybody's having a good time.

Everybody was having a good time.

Now, he's been shuttled by taxi back to their newest hotel in their string of hotels over these past months of filming and stumbling into the lobby, falling into the elevator, and toddling toward his room as he shoves his hands in all his pockets, searching for wherever the hell he left that keycard. He's got it somewhere. It's a little hard to find, though, when his world is spinning off its axis and he's warm and loose with liquor. His fingers buzz and feel good, but can't really grab anymore.

It takes Anthony a few minutes, swaying in front of his door, to get into his room, but he does eventually. And, for another few minutes, he thinks that's it. That's all the fanfare for the evening, y'all. No more gaggles of lighting and film crews, no more well-meaning but pestering PAs, no more directors calling cut to confer, pressing their heads together like a two-headed expert, no more crowds of sweaty, writhing bodies, dancing, singing along to music loud enough to make his ears ring, rowdy shouts for "shots, shots, shots!" or cheering calls chug whatever is left in your glass. Just him and his hotel room.

After giving up on finding the lightswitch, Anthony's trying to figure out where the fuck his suitcase got dumped by one of the personal assistants without tripping over it or smacking into it first. Fuck it, he'll settle for just not smacking into the corners or walls, never mind his suitcase. It's fucking fine. He can just strip out of his shoes, socks, and pants, fiddling with his belt and dumb, drunk fingers, rip his shirt off, and he'll be good. The pile of clothes he leaves behind like a shedded snaked skin is sober Anthony's problem. That's a morning issue (just like the pounding headache he knows he'll have, but it's fine, tomorrow's Saturday anyhow).

But, his mission to get naked and fall into his hotel bed, ruining the nicely done sheets, and pass the fuck out is interrupted by two things that filter into his conception of the spinning world at once.

One) Someone is knocking? Hitting? Something? Squeak, squeak, squeak, it happens again and again and again. It's probably someone knocking on his fucking door at whatever ass o'clock it is but why the fuck now. It can't be call time already.

Two) His lights are on. Motion sensors? That, or, he hit a switch as he fell into the wall, slapping his hand out to catch himself. What the fuck.

While Anthony is trying to blearily figure out both of those things that hit him at once like a backhand across the drunk, uncoordinated face it comes to him. The understanding, that is.

Ah. Boom. Figured it out. Easy as shit. He's smart as fuck. There's an open door in his hotel room and Chris and Sebastian are fucking so hard that the bed over there, in that lights-on room, is hitting the wall.

Wait--

There's an open door in his hotel room?

Wait.

Chris and Sebastian are fucking?

They're fucking in his hotel room?

What.

Anthony reels back immediately after having just pushed off the wall in the first place, falling back against the drywall and slapping both hands palm-down onto the wall, needing support while his head spins faster than the world around him. He gawks at what he sees, blinking his blurry eyes hard, trying to figure out if what he's seeing it real.

Unfortunately for him, it is.

There's an open fucking door in his hotel room that leads straight to Chris and Sebastian in their room and Chris and Sebastian are all sorts of tangled up.

There's Chris, lazing back against the headboard of the bed. And there's Sebastian, straddling Chris' lap, his legs quivering, his arms trapped behind his back, caught in one of Chris' hands by the wrist, and his neck arched, head thrown back. Sebastian's bouncing in Chris' lap, moving so fast that he's really just a fucking blur of horny movement.

He's riding Chris hard.

So hard, that that's what the fucking noise is. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. Their poor bed is screaming out for help under their enthusiasm, the springs squeaking beneath them, so loud they're nearly the same volume as Chris' voice, rumbling smooth and pressed into Sebastian's throat that's blushing bright pink and looks to have been mauled (oh my god, makeup is going to hate them). Sebastian throws himself into that too, not one to be outdone in his performance, and moans, guttural with its depth yet needy and high in pitch, "d-AH!-daddy!"

Anthony's eyes go so fucking wide they probably fucking bulge out of his head.

Oh. my. god.

This is blackmail material.

Anthony takes a single hysterical, terrible, hilarious second to recognize what the fuck he's seeing--the white-boy fuck he's seeing--and then, instantly, lurch forward the handful of steps he has to make it through, off-balance to get to the door. When he's finally close enough, Anthony slaps a hand out, gets it around the door handle, and slams that fucking door shut, sealing their rooms off from one another. Giving everyone the privacy they all desperately need.

Oh my god, he thinks again, dizzy.

Anthony ends up leaning back against the door he's just rushed to shut, needing support before he falls to the floor in a mess of drunken limbs and fucked-up reaction timing. His heart is beating out of his chest, double time with his alcohol-thinned blood rushing faster, faster, faster. It pumps loudly through his ears.

Chuckling in horror and pure hilarity, Anthony reconciles that he's never gonna fucking look either of them in the eyes ever. again.

What the hell.

He can't believe none of the staff thought to or paid enough attention to shut that door! What are the chances of that? That needs to be on the room clean-up checklist! What if there had been a fucking murderer next door? What if his suitcase and shit were dropped and the person next door just walked through a stole it? Also, fuck, he can't believe neither of them told him! Not the staff, but the idiots fucking next door. He's known Chris for, like, forever. Relationships--friends with benefits, serious, or otherwise--are important!

And, hold on, numbers zoom around in his head, too fast for his drunk ass--when did the first Captain America come out? When would that have been filmed then? How long ago was that? Did they start messing around then? It's gotta be right? And if it is, then it's been a good fucking while. Why wasn't he told? He wouldn't go gossiping, Chris knows that. He wouldn't loved to know. He would've cheered Chris on, he's cool, man. They're friends! Tight friends. That asshole, leaving him out of the loop.

Asshole is the wrong fucking insult to think of because then he's seeing the two of them together all over again in his head and hearing the noises Sebastian was making and, ugh, Anthony shakes his head to get rid of it only, leaning more so back up against the slammed-shut door, Anthony can hear them.

They're laughing.

They're laughing, those shameless motherfuckers.

Laughing and probably kissing because the sounds go quiet for a second but then they're back. And then Sebastian's distinctive, uncontrollable giggle that he gets going sometimes when he's tired and loopy and Chris is making dumb, shitty jokes is there. Half that giggle and half-gasping, moaning sounds that make Anthony have no choice but to pound on the door with his fist (which is probably the liquor talking, if he's honest, there are other options), shouting, "I'm gonna call the front desk and file a noise complaint, you loud fuckers! I swear to god! I am!" He's teasing and his voice is slurred from the drinks he had tonight, so there's no real threat, but it's annoying that those dicks (again, wrong fucking word for his mind's eye) don't take him seriously at all.

In fact, to make matters worse, Sebastian has the gall to sass him back through the wall, loud and almost joyful as he verbally sticks his tongue out at him, "m'kaa-ah!-yy! Mmm-hmm! You, you do that!" Reacting sharply, moaning-gasping more, to whatever Chris is doing to him.

Helplessly, Anthony laughs at him, shaking his head.

What is his life?

How did he get here?

Why are these his friends?

At least, for the most part, they do seem to try and keep it down as much as they can after that. No problem, though, Anthony is already planning to spend the time they keep him up workshopping all the embarrassing jokes he can make at their expense tomorrow. He can't wait to see their stupid faces when he knows and prods at them but no one else does. It's gonna be fucking hilarious. He's hilarious. He'll show 'em. Those assholes.

Bonus:

this video of Mackie [indirectly] calling them kinky

and this picture because it's so funny to me

[distractedrighter]

ok last bunch unless u want me to ask more HEH

19, 20 (more so people in the wasteland? people she's met throughout her life out there), 61, and i forgot the number but the LAST question about the eyesss.

Every time you sent an ask an angel kisses me on my forehead and blesses your lineage (pls send more)

19. Who or what are they emotionally closest to:

Besides the obvious Butch answer,

Sarah definitely becomes a big sister figure to her and they went through war together so it just hits different

Cross… I just imagine them having such a warm relationship since she knew her since she was a baby!!!

Dogmeat… he will show up eventually. And yes he’s smelly as hell and maybe one of his eyes looks a little more to the left than it should but that is her mf baby!

20. Who do they consider to be their family?

The same from 19 but ALSO

Agatha… reminds her so much of old lady Palmer

her and Three Dog will check in on each other bc she actually likes him after their second convo… he has a way of making her open up and even tho she’s always scared he’ll air her diary out on the radio he keeps it pretty professional

Amata who she sees occasionally outside of the vault (no she doesn’t hate her for the exile for reasons I’ll get into in the fic)

Sydney - Felicity just really admires the way she handles herself out there and also mutual dead dad trauma… she looks at her like a cooler older sister and I think Felicity is a little more fond of Syd than Syd is of her but it’s a good friendship regardless

Nora/Gob… because fuck Moriarity.

FAWKES!!! hello…

Charon eventually but it’ll take a while before she ventures into downtown again.. the first trip was traumatic. Does Charon like her? No one knows but he sticks around.

61. Feelings on chems/alcohol..

She loves some good wine, doesn’t enjoy liquor so much

She does have a moment with chems and alcohol after her dad’s death… she has a neutral view after this experience. She’s a little scared it’ll get out of hand for her if she tries it again because she was abusing it tbh.

I definitely see her using drugs if she has to… like psycho or something to go up against some raiders or something bc she’s out of bullets and needs to handle them unarmed/melee and needs the extra adrenaline. But the come down is so bad and possible health risks so severe she really hates using it.

Also. She hates cigarettes. But she will smoke a cigar with Butch when they find one bc it reminds her of her dad (she caught him smoking one in the vault, imagine her shock)

66. Her EYES - imagine like… a pool of dark brown. So dark her pupils can be kind of difficult to see unless she’s facing the sunlight. She’s pretty doe eyed and the whole dark eyes making her pupils look even bigger doesn’t help.

ANYWAYS I SPENT LIKE 50 MINS IN THE CAR ANSWERING THESE THANKS ILY !!!!

[harmlessmessages]

WARNING: SMUT

Careless by harmlessmessages. All rights reserved by the author. 

“Careless” tells the story of two strangers who meet at an open mic in Manhattan. She’s a vibrant musician determined to perform even as her body resists her every move. He’s a mysterious young man weighed down by debilitating, chronic pain and a secret as dark as the mask that hides his face. 

Through alternating perspectives, their chance encounter evolves into a night of raw connection and unguarded intimacy. As their stories intertwine, their personal struggles and unexpected likeness surface, revealing the solace and heartbreak of finding hope and relief in one another, even if for one night.

Each scene is paired with a song, making “Careless” an immersive experience where music mirrors the characters’ journeys and the poignancy of their bond.

Song: Walk In The Park, Beach House

23/41

He realized he was saying too much. He had already shared too many details. Though he knew that once it all came out, it wouldn’t really matter what he said tonight. 

Her face lit up. “I love Japan! I went a couple of years ago. I’m going back this summer.”

He couldn’t help but imagine it — her walking down a lantern-lit street in Tokyo, her laughter mingling with the bustle of the city. If he had stayed longer, maybe their paths would have crossed there instead of here. The thought tugged at him, pulling him briefly away from the dark street.

“Hey.” Her voice nudged him, soft but firm.

He blinked back into the present. “Sorry,” he said, his lips curving into a small, sheepish smile.

“Where do you go when you do that?” She angled her head to him. Of course, she’d want to know. Even when he thought he was hiding it well, she could see right through him. 

“What do you mean?” He tried to brush it off, anyway, pretending not to understand. 

She raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t fooling her. “I mean, you’ve obviously been in pain all night. I told you about my hands — now it’s your turn. Come on.”

Right, her hands. He almost forgot and he wondered how she managed to hold him down earlier on the stoop. He eased his grip on her fingers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “It’s a long story,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I’ll tell you another time.” He leaned in, pressing a soft, long kiss to her cheek, hoping to shift the focus away.

24/41 

She felt the warmth of his lips linger on her skin. Despite the curiosity that burned in her, she didn’t press him further. He had said he’d tell her another time, and though she didn’t fully believe he would, she would let it go.

For the moment, it was enough to walk hand in hand, the rhythm of their steps syncing effortlessly. Together, their pace slowed as they approached a large red brick building that stretched almost the entire block. She’d seen it before. 

“You’re staying in a hostel?”

“Yeah,” he replied, his tone casual. “I hope that’s okay.”

She nodded, but a dozen questions flitted through her mind. Where was he from? Why was he staying so far uptown? If he was a tourist, wouldn’t he be staying closer to downtown? She supposed she didn’t know much about how people traveled through New York. She had her own place, friends in the city, too — she’d never had to seek out somewhere transient to stay.

“Will they let me in?” she asked, wondering if there were any other complications.

“Well, it’s off hours, so it should be fine,” he said with a shrug. “And my roommates are out, too.”

He led her up the stairs toward the front door, a small smile playing at his lips. “But just in case, let’s be quiet,” he whispered, his eyes twinkled as he winked at her.

25/41

He lightly pushed open one of the double doors, poking his head in to scan the empty lobby. The reception desk sat unmanned, the front light casting a soft glow, but the rest of the space was shrouded in shadows.

Without a word, he pulled her inside. He drew her closer, his hands sliding around her waist. She was small and warm against him.

They moved toward the stairs, their hands slowly dancing with each other as they climbed each step. What was he doing? His mind splintered into doubt— he didn’t even know if his roommates were still gone — but he couldn’t stop. He wasn’t fully thinking. And somehow, that was the most freeing part of all of this. With her, he felt that he didn’t have to think too hard.

They reached his floor, the hallway lit faintly. The ghosts of voices from other rooms whispered around them, distant and soft. He looked to her, his gaze locking with hers, giving her a silent promise that everything would be okay. That he was going to make it so. Without hesitation, he kissed her, his lips pressing hers urgently, his hands cradling her face as if to keep her there.

They reached his door, and he paused, placing a finger to his lips in a soft, silent plea. She nodded, understanding. With careful movements, he opened the door, peering inside. Empty.

He slid his body through the gap, then turned and pulled her inside with both hands, her body flush against his as he kissed her deeply, fiercely. The door clicked shut behind them.

26/41

The moment his lips found hers, the world around her went silent. Gone were the distant whispers and laughters of travelling friends in the hallway, the soft drone of the heater in his room, even the lingering worry about his returning roommates. There was only the intoxicating pressure of his body against hers as he pressed her into the wall, his hands slipping under her shirt, cupping her breasts with his large, hot hands, kneading them with grave desire.

Her nipples hardened, her clit instantly swelling with pressure, reaching for release. Their jackets fell forgotten to the floor as they moved together, hands and lips growing more desperate. She instinctively grabbed the tailends of his long-sleeve, pulling it upwards, forcing him to unhand her so that she could remove his shirt, baring his tight stomach, his chest, his lean, strong arms. Her eyes traced the firm planes of his pecs, marveling at how his muscles tensed beneath her touch.

She fell into him, her lips traced a path down his neck while her hands mapped the ridges of his silk-smooth torso, down to his midriff, where she paused to graze his wild field of hair, pointing her in the direction of his cock that she could feel heavy and heated against her. 

27/41

His eyes were dark with hunger as he found her gaze. He lifted her shirt with agonizing slowness, his breath catching at the sight of her bare skin. He pulled down her bra, dipping his head in between her breasts as his hands moved to her back to unbuckle her. He then turned to kiss her left nipple, opening his mouth to slide his tongue against it, as she arched into him with a soft whimper. He slowly began to suck, releasing delicate, wet sounds with every parting of his mouth.

She pulled him back up to capture him in a flaring kiss, her hands dropping to his waistband. But he reached it first, his own fingers making quick work of his pant buttons while he kissed her with an intensity that left her breathless.

He moved his attention to her right breast, sucking wildly on her nipple, nibbling and pulling it with his teeth as he kicked off his pants. She softly screamed into him, her hands holding onto his hair, attempting to stifle her yells into the warmth of his neck as she pulled his curls into every direction.

He licked her breast in a careful, upward motion, tasting her salty, sweet skin, before moving up her neck, then to her earlobe where he gently nibbled, simultaneously reaching his hand down to her pussy and sliding his finger deep within — her wetness welcoming his return. 

“No.” She whispered, pulling him out of her as she gasped into his ear. She reached down,  finding his dick, hard and throbbing, and she stroked it, tenderly, teasingly. He had not fucked in a long, long time, but he knew what would happen next.

[orangeslikesbread]

yk, I've seen you talk about Jeri x Emma before. I'm afraid that I don't see the potential but I'm very curious to hear about the potential

tbh, i dont remember why or how I started shipping them, I think I just liked the look of them together !!

but now that ive liked them for a while I really like the idea of their potential dynamic !! i think they probably met at camp idontwannabang in middle school (emma was forced to go), and her and jeri became friends, like the rebel girl and shy normie bsf (bad analogy but whtvr). also the fact the both say the line "things in the forest grow fast, and big, and different" (or smth like that I don't remember the exact line) and I think maybe it something they joked about when they were kids bc adults told it to them to try and scare them into being obedient, which emma obviously didn't care about or believe them, but jeri did and emma would laugh at her and call her a wimp (in a silly playful way ofc) and jeri would always try and act tough around her to try and impress her.

but by the time they got into highschool, emma stopped going to the camp and jeri went to sycamore, they didn't really talk anymore (jeri's parents thought emma was a bad influence so they could only really hang out at camp and during school). but jeri would still go to see every school play and musical at hatchetfield high just so she could see emma, but ofc as soon as she turned 18 emma was up and out of town, so eventually jeri forgot about her, they both forgot about each other.

until one day, when they are both adults (jeri is working at the camp and emma is living on her farm), and basically absintence camp happens except jeri survives, so she just runs through the woods, and keeps running until she is stopped by a large farm house blocking her path. she bangs and bangs on the door until (a very high) emma opens the door. they are both a little shaken up because they had practically forgotten about each other (not really, jeri had been thinking about her a lot more recently with all the lil jerry stuff going on, but she didn't know emma had been back in town bc she doesn't really go downtown and she knows beanies is shit so shes never been, and when emma came back into town, all her childhood memories w/ jeri came flooding back and she cant stop thinking about her and she doesn't know why -suprise surprise its cuz shes gay asf-), but nonetheless emma lets her in because she is clearly in distress, she makes jeri some tea or smth and comforts her

sorry i started babbling i just love them sm💗💗(I have so many thoughts abt them)

[fishyfishygrils]

Clear Skies Over Milwaukee Prologue

70 miles out of Milwaukee there is a small town filled with unknown curiosities. Normally in Wisconsin, there aren’t five different conspiracies happening at the same time. The weird is the usual in that small town. The citizens turn a blind eye to anything weird, and blame Satan or the government like any good small town! The 90s were a wild time… They’re not wrong anyways. But, sometimes it’s other stuff,  like aliens or vampires or a bunch of mafia guys. It depends on the day. It’s not like anyone believes the conspiracy theories of a crazy homeless man. Those guys go missing very often, odd… A good thing for trans people though, the citizens always know the other person’s chosen pronouns. Transphobia is somehow physically impossible. I’m not the one who did that. WINK WINK.

Now, you ask me. Deer narrator, how can a town with no name be so special? And I’d say, it’s not and don’t ask why. 

Anyway, Jess was one of these citizens! We’ll hear more about Jess soon don’t worry. She’s the protagonist of this novel so that's obvious. Let’s use her as an example of how life is in this town. We will start at the very beginning. Her parents had a love of technology, and they fell in love in that nameless town. They wanted to work on something that would live on by itself. Something that could thrive even if they died, a living legacy. So, they started a family business, an arcade. Oh, and Jess was born too. I could never forget about that.

Jess had a normal childhood, they know the names of their favorite servers. They go to school and have to survive a second robbery in a single week. The cops question the students at least once a month. Their uncle went missing one day, and the only clue was the excess amount of blood that was left in his room. Yes, he is still considered missing. No, the police did not do anything. 

Let me, your incompetent narrator, present the popular buildings of this small town. To start, I present Minnie’s Dinner—the most popular restaurant in town. From the sky, I’ve seen it get robbed 4 times in a row despite the fact the police station was the restaurant's neighbor.  No matter, people meet up here. It’s the community hot spot. Chatter lights up the diner every day, making it feel constantly alive. The staff is nice too if you want to give the town a visit. Just assume you might never leave, ever. 

Next up, is the already mentioned police station. Would not recommend going there. It is the opposite of the good kind of chaos in the dinner. The police does everything and nothing at the same time. It’s the epiphany of uselessness. Calling the cops is either waiting 40 minutes for one cop to walk 50 meters or one random dude busting in with guns blazing. The receptionist is the only thing keeping that thing open and working. 

Downtown is the big part of town, which includes Minnie’s and The police station. Jess and friends will include other parts of town I will not explain yet like the cinema and the facility. Oh, and also the multiple abandoned buildings on the outskirts of town but those are mostly in the other books

Forgot to mention this is a trilogy. 

This town will always be a beautiful mess. With a population of 900 people, the community learned to support each other in the weird town of Wisconsin. To help their neighbors mourn the loss of a loved one. The people might be in denial of what lurks around the corner, but they will always support one another. The support is one of the only things that help each other survive. The other option is guns. 

Have you learned enough about the town? Do you have the context in that little curving brain of yours? Yeah? Okay, good. Let’s go.

[seiwas]

sel have you thought about caregiver iwa? 😭😭😭 bec i have 😭😭😭 i watch this guy on yt who takes care of his grandma and a thought came to me.

you're neighbors with this sweet, lovely grandma living alone who welcomed you with a basket of cookies when you first moved. she checks in on you from time to time, brings you food and produce from her little garden. in return, you help her sometimes with chores and with her garden. you cook and bake together yadda yadda all the cute things we can do with a cute grandma. (i'm sucker for stories where a younger-ish person builds friendship and connection with an older person 😭) oh and of course, sweet, lovely grandma tells you about his equally sweet, lovely, and goodlooking grandson working as a gym trainer/owns a gym downtown. he visits from time to time (but for some reason you never catch a glimpse).

then something happened that renders sweet, lovely grandma to need a caregiver (or just like someone to live with her). of course bec iwa loves his grandma so much, he took the role!!! (i imagine him to be big grandma's boy!!!!). made arrangements to be with grandma and still maintain his gym work (a mulitasking, time management king!!)

the first time you met it was kinda awkward bec instead of grandma opening the door, it's an intimidating, big guy with a handsome face but suprisingly gentle eyes (awooga!!). then grandma introduce you to each other. you find out grandma also tells iwa about you. (awooga pt. 2). sweet, lovely grandma is lowkey scheming to get you two together. they explain that iwa will be staying with grandma permanently (and of course, you're still very much welcome to spend time with grandma and maybe iwa? wink wink). talking to iwa is so easy with his gentleness and humor (and did you know he snorts when he laughs very hard). somehow this grandma-grandson duo wormed their way into your heart. THEY TAKE CARE OF YOU!!

like when you got sick with the flu. grandma urge iwa to check up on you and bring the chicken soup she made. (iwa did not even need to be told, bec at this point he alreadt cares for you). he stayed with you until you fell asleep. he does not want to leave you alone but he needs to take care of his grandma. (or maybe he asked you to stay with them at their house while you're still sick, you know they have a spare bedroom and all, so why not??)

imagine seeing iwa and grandma in the garden doing their early light morning exercise (but its mainly for grandma). iwa coaching his grandma (lets go grandma, one more stretch!!) (its so cute in my mind). idk how you two will end up together but you will end up together (i used up all my brain cells now lol). i'm sorry for the incoherent iwa caregiver gym trainer loving grandson word vomit. he just fits this au/role so much i'm gonna cry.

mai life update. my proposal thesis defense went unexpectedly great. the panel accepted my paper with only slight technical revisions. but they're pressuring me to finish it by march 2024 bec the topic might have potential for the national psych undergrad research contest (this is not the name, i just forgot hahahaha. dear research panel, i just want to finish my thesis and then graduate. (tho it gave me academic validation once again). also, my new notebook binder arrived today!!! i'm so excited to use it. i'm gonna use for my self-study review for the psychometrician board exam awooo.

how about you sel??? how are you??? mwah

hello mai! 💗 nice to see you back!

i haven't thought about caregiver iwa! oh gosh au's like that make my heart ache 🥺 i can never take thinking about it for too long 😭

your ideas are so sweet though!! the gentleness of it!! 🥺 how reader forges a relationship with the grandma that resembles that of grandma and granddaughter!! and ofc iwa being so filial 🥺 so sexy of him...

the awooga got to me omfg bshb PLS nawT grandma playing matchmaker 😭😭 all of iwa's lil quirks are so sweet omfg how he snorts when laughing too hard pls 😭 and it's so sweet of them to be so caring too 🥺

and seeing him do all these heartwarming things for his grandma aaah!! my acts of service heart 🥺 he's perfect really he is!! and you're so real for using up all your braincells omg that's me when i think about aus sometimes too 😭

if you're up for it, you should definitely try to write this mai!! you have all the ideas already 🥺 and it sounds so extremely heartwarming!! i haven't really encountered a fic of iwa like this too so it'll be smth fresh!! and new 🥹 aaaah thank you for sharing this with me though 🥺 i love talking abt him!!

and your life update! congratulations!! it sounds like a really good paper if they're pushing you to submit it for the contest!! i hope you'll get to finish it by then so you can qualify!! 🥹 and i love the feeling of new stationery too!! it always motivates me to start writing/decorating (but only for like... that week 😭 then i forget it again HABSFHASF) but goodluck on your self-studying!! and goodluck on taking the exam!! you can do it!! 💗

i'm okay!! doing good!! thank you for asking 🥺 went to the gym this morning and spent most of the day catching up with people!! trying to be more productive too!! also writing fic rn (hoping i get most of it done already!! it's been sitting with me for days 😭)

[kaleiphant]

Loki Streak: Sort of an Uberhood Challenge

I say "sort of" because I got to the end and realized I forgot about Downtown. There weren't any playable Sims there, anyway.

This was inspired by aledstrange's moonbeam trail challenge and "Stranger in a Strange Land" by pascal_curious.

Content warning: This features some dark topics (human experimentation, domestic abuse, you could maybe say Loki and Nervous were trafficked). I'll put more warnings in future chapters as they appear.

-O-o-O-o-O-

Some Sims believed that money could buy anything.

A luxurious house,

the finest foods and fanciest kitchen in SimNation,

only the best skill-building objects,

a fancy parlor and library to impress the colleagues,

very expensive lab equipment for scientific pursuits,

a test subject for some of the riskier experiments (albeit a supernatural one),

and even a husband.

Circe Salamis came from a rather wealthy family. While this had its advantages, it also had its downsides, one of which was the annoying tendency for other Sims to call her a rich brat who never did anything herself and only succeeded by the Salamis name. There were also her scientific critics who doubted the experiments' validity due to the strangeness of the test subject. So Circe found a way to shut them all up and get a non-supernatural test subject in one tidy move.

On the other side of Strangetown lived a woman named Gundrun, her son Loki, and her daughter Ermintrude (who insisted on being called "Erin"). The father, Bjørn, had recently passed away and their combined household income was not quite enough for the small family. The younger daughter was still in high school. The son was in the science career track, a noble calling in Circe's eyes, but Gundrun had little faith in his plans to become an inventor. His father had been an inventor and the salary wasn't great. And being new to the country (all the way across the ocean from Norssimskland), they had no family nearby to help out.

Circe and Gundrun struck a deal: in return for Circe's financial help, Gundrun would offer her son as a "lab partner" and husband. Circe would take the invented surname of Beaker (while Loki changed his name from Bjørnssen), so nobody could call her a product of nepotism.

Of course, she kept the rest of the Salamis money. She wasn't crazy.

Unlike Vidcund Curious, her ex-boyfriend, Loki didn't piss himself in fear at the suggestion.

He dutifully accepted the proposal and endured all that went with it.

-O-o-O-

Nervous was freshening up the kitchen and making dinner when he heard the screams. Circe was playing with the sanity vacuum again.

"Stop struggling," Circe commanded. "You should be used to this by now."

Loki tried his best to cooperate. He didn't want to mess up the experiment, but he was having trouble staying conscious.

This particular experiment always left him feeling a little out of whack.

He was sure that someday he'd get used to it. He was usually able to recover.

Mostly.

Every day, Nervous saw everything. The twitching, the drooling, the talking to an unseen psychologist; he'd seen and done it all before.

Nervous and Loki bonded over their shared plight and each could easily understand the torment the other Sim experienced daily. What Nervous couldn't wrap his head around was why Loki insisted on staying behind.

"We could go any time this week," Nervous whispered to Loki over dinner. "She'll be working overtime at the lab, and I think I've found a way to disable the alarms."

"I'll make something up to cover for you," Loki offered. "She won't suspect you're gone for at least a day."

"What do you mean, you'll cover for me? You're coming with me."

Loki gave a tiny wince of a smile.

Nervous looked Loki dead in the eyes. "Aren't you?"

Loki cast his eyes downward. Every cell in his body, though unthinkingly carrying out its biological programming, wanted to do nothing more than run away with Nervous and never look back at this failed experiment of a marriage.

But as much as Loki loved Nervous, he could never accept the invitation. Circe had paid a pretty simoleon for Loki. He couldn't back out of his end of the deal.

Nervous seemed saddened by his refusal to answer. "I know I'm not the easiest to get along with sometimes, but--"

"It's really nothing personal, Nervous. I just can't leave Circe."

Nervous sighed. "Of course not."

Loki glanced around apprehensively. "She's done so much to help my family. It wouldn't be right for me to leave."

Nervous seemed to understand, but Loki could sense that he wouldn't give up so easily.

-O-o-O-

The experiments continued.

Morale did not improve.

Loki begged Nervous to leave before they got worse.

"I can't go with you, but I'm sure you've met someone else that you really like enough to run away with."

Nervous shook his head sadly. "There's really no one else. Everyone else seems to think I'm crazy. Except for Pascal and his brothers, of course, but they're not planning on leaving Strangetown any time soon."

"You're really the only one." Nervous leaned in close to Loki. "And you're the only one I'd want to go with."

Loki hung his head. There seemed to be no convincing Nervous that he'd have a much easier time looking out for just himself, especially without the fear that Circe would retaliate for "stealing" her lab assistant. Why couldn't Nervous see that he'd be better off leaving without Loki?

"Am I really?" Loki murmured, his gaze planted on the stone floor.

Nervous tilted Loki's face up, forcing eye contact. His bony hand lingered against Loki's even bonier cheek. "I love you," he stated bluntly.

"I love you too." Loki squeezed Nervous's hand, blinking hard. "But they always say if you love someone, you have to let them go."

Nervous let his hand fall to Loki's shoulder. "Then I'll have to give you something to remember me by."

It was at that moment Loki had his first real kiss.

"You're not getting rid of me that easy." Nervous nuzzled his snub nose around the pointy tip of Loki's aquiline one, causing Loki's twirled moustache to tickle them both.

Loki smoothed Nervous's mohawk. "I wouldn't want to."

-O-o-O-o-O-

I have to split this into two posts and Loki's not even out of Strangetown yet. What did I get myself into.