#first a spark then a flame.....

[mfdragon]

Been a while since I posted, apologies life has been HARD!

Anyway here’s some sketches of my “Good Vlad” au.

Fire core Yada yada but have you considered LIGHTNING CORE!?!

[fauchart]

Barbarian Rage (born out of love)

[kvroii]

(Unofficial!)

A manga short with some of the characters from 'Of Spark and Cats'.

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 49🚨

He had just been crowned the khagan's Heir. With Nesryn as his potential bride. Potential, to Aelin's amusement, because Nesryn herself wasn't so keen on being empress of the mightiest empire in the world.

But what Sartaq had said— Elide blurted, "You mean to not go to Terrasen?" Aelin kept still, her fingers curling at her sides.

"Terrasen needs aid," Rowan said, his face the portrait of steely calm as he surveyed their new allies and old friends.

"And yet Terrasen has not called for it," Hasar countered, utterly unfazed by the wall of Fae warriors glowering at her. Exactly the sort of person Aelin had hoped she'd be when she wrote to her all those months ago.

Chaol cleared his throat. Gods above, Chaol was walking again. And married to Yrene Towers, who had healed him.

A thread in a tapestry. That's what it had felt like the night she'd left the gold for Yrene in Innish. Like pulling a thread in a tapestry, and seeing just how far and wide it went.

All the way to the southern continent, it seemed. And it had rippled back with an army and a healed, happy friend. Or as happy as any of them might be at the moment.

Aelin glanced sidelong to Rowan. Found him already staring at her. We'll convince them to go to Terrasen, her mate said silently.

"It's back," he panted, gaping at Nesryn. "For days now, I swore I felt something, noted changes, but today it just all came back."

Nesyn angled her head, her curtain of dark hair sliding over an armored shoulder. "Who…"

Borte squeezed the young man's arm. "Falkan. It's Falkan, Nesryn." Prince Sartaq stalked to Nesryn's side, graceful as any Fae warrior. "How." But the young man had turned toward Aelin, eyes narrowing. As if trying to place her.

Then he said, "The assassin from the market in Xandria."

Aelin arched a brow. "Hopefully, the horse I stole didn't belong to you." A cough from Fenrys. Aelin threw the warrior a grin over her shoulder.

"I was always young," Falkan muttered. "I just didn't look it." His gray eyes again found Aelin's. "I gave you a piece of Spidersilk."

For a heartbeat, the then and the now blended and wobbled. "The merchant," Aelin murmured. She'd last seen him in the Red Desert-looking twenty years older. "You sold your youth to a stygian spider."

"You two know each other?" Nesryn gaped.

"The threads of fate weave together in strange ways," Falkan said, then smiled at Aelin. "I never got your name."

Hasar chuckled from the other side of the desk. "You already know it, shifter."

Before Falkan could figure it out, Fenrys stepped forward. "Shifter?"

But Nesryn said, "And Lysandra's uncle." Aelin slumped into the chair beside Chaol's.

Rowan laid a hand on her shoulder, and when she looked up, she found him near laughter.

"What's so funny, exactly?" she hissed.

Rowan smirked. "That for once, you are the one who gets knocked on your ass by a surprise."

Aelin stuck out her tongue. Borte grinned, and Aelin winked at the girl.

But Falkan said to Aelin and her companions, "You know my niece."

"Lysandra is my friend, and Lady of Caraverre," Aelin said. "She is not with us," she added upon Falkan's hopeful glance toward the tent flaps. "She's in the North."

Not their considerable beauty, but their size, their pointed ears, their weapons and elongated canines. Aelin whispered conspiratorially to the girl, "Make them roll over before you offer them a treat."

Lorcan glared, but Fenrys shifted in a flash, the enormous white wolf filling the space.

Hasar swore, Sartag backing away a step, but Borte beamed. "You are all truly Fae, then." Gavriel, ever the gallant knight, sketched a bow. Lorcan, the bastard, just crossed his arms.

Yet Rowan smiled at Borte. "Indeed we are."

Borte whirled to Aelin. "Then you are Aelin Galathynius. You look just how Nesryn said." Aelin grinned at Nesryn, the woman leaning against Sartaq's side. "I hope you only said horrible things about me."

"Only the worst," Nesryn said with dead flatness, though her mouth twitched.

But Falkan whispered, "The queen," and fell to his knees.

Hasar laughed. "He never showed that sort of awe when he met us."

Sartaq lifted his brows. "You told him to turn into a rat and scuttle away."

Aelin hoisted up Falkan by the shoulder. "I can't have my friend's uncle kneeling on the ground, can I?"

"You said you were an assassin." Falkan's eyes were so wide the whites around them gleamed. "You stole horses from the Lord of Xandria—"

"Yes, yes," Aelin said, waving a hand. "It's a long story, and we're in the middle of a war council, so..."

"Piss off?" Falkan finished

Aelin laughed, but glanced to Nesryn and Sartaq. The former jerked her chin to Falkan. "He's become our spy of sorts. He joins us in these meetings." Aelin nodded, then winked at the shifter. "I suppose you didn't need me to slay that stygian spider after all."

But Falkan tensed, his attention going to Nesryn and Sartaq, to Borte, still gawking at the Fae males. "Do they know?"

Aelin had a feeling she'd need to sit down again. Chaol indeed patted the chair beside him, earning a chuckle from Yrene. Doing herself a favor, Aelin indeed sat, Rowan taking up his place behind her, both of his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. His thumb ran along the nape of her neck, then drifted over the mating marks again scarring one side thanks to the seawater they'd used to seal them. But as her muscles soothed beneath that loving touch, her soul with it, her breath remained tight.

It didn't get any better when Nesryn said, "The stygian spiders are Valg."

Silence.

"We encountered their kin, the kharankui, deep in the Dagul Fells. They came into this world through a temporary crack between realms, and remained afterward to guard the entrance, should it ever reappear."

"This cannot end well," Fenrys muttered. Elide hummed her agreement.

"They feed on dreams and years and life," Falkan said, a hand on his own chest. "As my friends have said the Valg do."

Aelin had seen Valg princes drain a human of every last drop of youth and vigor and leave only a dried corpse behind. She wouldn't put it past the spiders to have a similar gift.

"What does this mean for the war?" Rowan asked, his thumbs still stroking Aelin's neck.

"Will they join Erawan's forces is the better question," Lorcan challenged with a face like stone.

"They do not answer to Erawan," Nesryn said quietly, and Aelin knew. Knew from the look Chaol gave her, the sympathy and fear, knew in her bones before Nesryn even finished.

"The stygian spiders, the kharankui, answer to their Valg queen. The only Valg queen. To Maeve."

[secondpersonpoetry]

you’ve probably already read it before, but the poem Party by Kim Addonizio really got me tonight. first thought was “oh man. yeah” and then my second thought was “how can i make this about my hockey guys somehow………..”anyway! have a good one! 

oh. oh.

​

[creative-author]

sᴘᴀʀᴋs, ɢʟɪᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ғʟᴀᴍᴇs - meet Ryee

Ryee is 25 years old and Lias first mate. He is part of the Miststorm Crew for almost ten years now and he never thought of leaving, even if it was dangerous.

He doesn't know his real parents. He was an infant, when he got to his foster family and even though he knows that he's not their biological child (one can clearly see that) he sees them as real parents. Lia tends to forget that Lins and Marou aren't his real parents, but when they visit them, she can clearly see the differences from their appearances. Ryees skin is like seafoam and his family has skin like dark storm clouds.

He would protect the market stand from his family and scare thieves away. That's how Nimk (Lia's Dad) found him and invited him to join the crew.

After three years being part of the crew, Lia joined and he found a new best friend. He teached her how to fight with a sword, while Koyl (Lia's half brother) showed her how to use her fists. They grew close together and to outsiders, it may seem like Ryee and Lia are a couple.

When he was 19 years old, the Miststorm crashed in a huge storm. He was on board just like the others and even if everyone survived, there was still loss. He lost his right hand because he tried to catch a rope to steady the sails but the rope made a loop around his hand and with a strong pull it shattered the bones in his hand. He doesn't mind it anymore. Stak, a former blacksmith and really strong young woman joined the crew after the incident and made him a hook. He loves to threat others with it.

Just like the others, he grew up without any magic. He heard lots of stories from his parents and others but he never needed it. But he has it, he just doesn't know. When they get the chance to help the isles, he joins Lia to the kingdom with magic. He learns about his powers but they disconnected with him and that starts to be a problem.

Fun Facts about him:

- He has two foster siblings and while he respects and loves them, he forbid them to join the crew. His parents are worried about him, they don't need to worry about them too

- His name is pronounced "Rai" like lie just with an R instead of an L (a friend of mine, who helps me a lot with the story has like five different pronunciations and goes through all of them because she always forgets). In the story setting, it means something like "nothing" or "worthless" but it also means "royal"

- He is one of the few that can calm Lia down and sometimes one of the crew goes to get him, when she is angry or overthinking again

- He hates the ticking sound from clocks. He grew up without any and in the kingdom it drives him insane

- He tends to forget where he put his hook and can get angry until he finds it

- I have a face claim for him but I'm not gonna tell you now who it is ;)

pics from his moodboard (they are from Pinterest and a few are edited by me)

[chirpsythismorning]

🎨 🖼️ 🌈 🩹 🧍🏽💡 🔮⚡️☄️

The Flame by Cheap Trick

previous ⏪︎ now playing ⏩ next back to playlist

[flameleadsarc]

"Flameo, hotman."

Why is he using fingerguns? Because he can.

[poppyseedmuffiin]

me listening to regina spektor songs

[littlelightningbvg]

The Window. A Kiss Good Night. - not a thread or ask, but def. has happened. The Dollhouse. - gifs don't follow the ask, but dan has likely caught her awake playing with it out on the porch. The Owl. A Restful Night.

- @bizarromuses

[wildsaltair]

a few very low quality photos from the original promos of Gladiator

[reapxrs]

open | rose

‶I am going to STAB the next person who makes a kiss me, I'm Irish joke.”

[muffinlance]

The feral cat gator of a 13 year old freshly scarred Zuko being forcibly adopted by the foggy swamp tribe! Bonus points if they willfully ignore the fact he's a firebender and treat him as a very strange waterbender bending-wise

It was Earth Kingdom ships that drove the metal one onto the reefs, so when the little thing came crawling up through the marsh spitting and hissing and dressed in red, they knew it weren’t no earthbender. No matter how much mud it had tripped in, trying to find where the ground stopped sucking at its feet.

“Wow-ee,” said Old Earl, “that sure is one way of keepin’ off the ‘squito-chiggers.”

And they all watched from Big Earl’s porch, sitting or rocking, as them bugs came for the all-you-can-eat and ended up on the bar-b-que.

“Sure is some weird bending,” said Little Earl, who was taller than Big Earl, but when they'd been twelve and they’d wrestled for the title it hadn't been Little Earl who’d won.

The little thing looked maybe twelve, too. And he was little little. But he had that same look like he was going to shove someone’s face in the mud until they said otherwise, as he stood there all panting and dripping and just realizing they’d been watching him this whole time.

“It’s firebending,” the one-kid mud-wrestler said, as bugs kept pop-snapping into flames around him.

Old Earl cupped a hand over his ear, like he couldn’t hear. And he kept doing it, while the kid got louder and louder about that bending of his, but quieter and quieter about looking at them like they were his next bugs.

“Oh, firebending,” Old Earl said, nodding like he’d only just got it, when the kid had stomped straight up to his chair. “Right, right, Old Jane’s got fire-water-bending, too. Why don’t you take him to her, boys.”

“It’s not-- ugh,” shouted the kid, but maybe he only had the one volume. Certainly only had the one volume for stomping, even though stomping was what got a fellow’s shoes shoved down so deep in the mud they’d be seeing them again as mole-shrimp hats. Not that the kid had shoes. Neither did Earl, Earl, or Earl. ‘Cept for Fancy Earl, but he’d gone off to Ba-Singing-Se, to be fancy.

Anyway, Old Jane was the best at turning anything and everything into fire water, which was the kind of thing a fellow called his or her liquor when they wanted fancy folk to keep right on walking. Was really good for making shouty little firebrands take their naps, too, which let Old Jane get her glowing mitts all over that fresh burn of his. And the love-bites from the shark-wrasses that had probably been half the reason the kid had come a-shore all a-shouting in the first place.

“Nope,” diagnosed Old Jane, when the kid woke back up. “That’s just how he talks. Mother was a screamer-bird, I’d say.”

“You take that back about my mother,” screamed their screamer-bird, who had pretty good hearing for someone who’s ear had lost the same fight as his eye. Anyway, Old Jane had done the best she could about both, and nothing was on fire that shouldn’t be, and she had that extra quilt she’d been working on that needed a body under it

And the waves and the shark-wrasses had all the rest of the kid’s crew

So sure enough they set their little screamer-bird up with a nest and let him cry loud as he wanted.

Anyway, if there was one thing Earl Earl Earl and Jane knew, it was how to make a joke so good the other person didn’t even know it were a joke.

“Firebending,” their little fledgling shouted, and waved his arms around, like all that fire pointed at no one was going to get them startled off.

“A-yep,” nodded Old Earl. “That there is some fire-water-bending. Just like Old Jane.”

Old Jane wasn’t the kind of gal who showed off, but she wasn’t the kind who missed no cue, either. She swirled a lick o’ liquor out of her latest barrel and twirled it ‘round and straight into her mouth, and when she spit it out, it looked so much like the little bird’s breath-o’-fire that he didn’t even notice the spark rocks she kept on her fingers as jewelry. No one did, ‘til they’d seen the trick a few times.

The kid’s mouth hung open so low and so long, a moth-tick flew in. That was some kind of life lesson, that was. The swamp was good at sending those.

The Earth Kingdom sent troops a-stompin’ through, losing boots and scaring catigators out of their sunning spots left and right, askin’ all rumbly about those fires they’d spotted, and if anyone from that shipwreck had made it on shore, and talkin’ about how there’d be money in it for them if they made that last answer a “yes,” sounding like Fancy Earl and all his talk about commerce and living standards.

“Got a few parts of them ship people in the lagoon,” Big Earl said. “Probably still floatin’ if you want ‘em. But we better bring the shrimp-minnow nets, ‘cuase they’ll just slosh on through the turtle-sturgeon ones.”

“...No thank you,” the head stomper said, like sayin’ polite words made a fellow a polite man. He’d tracked those boots of his right up onto their porch without so much as a scuff on their mud rug. Even the kid had used the mud rug. “And the fire?”

“Oh,” said Little Earl, with a grin, “that was Old Jane.”

And she did her trick again, only less tricky, so they could see the spark rocks real good. “You boys want some fire water?” she offered. “It ain’t blinded no one who wasn’t already headed that way.”

They didn’t want any, which was grand, ‘cause she hadn’t really been offering.

When the last of them had gone stomping off back to the kind of land that let people stomp it, it took them two whole hours to lure out the catigators from under the porch. And their little screamer bird, too.

“...Why didn’t you turn me in?”

“What?” asked Old Earl, cupping his ear.

“Why—”

“What?”

“—didn’t—”

“WHAT?”

“—you—”

“Speak up, boy,” Old Earl said. “I never heard such a quiet child.”

And boy, did that set their bird back to singing.

[eclipseslayer]

CAREFUL

• TOJI FUSHIGURO X F!READER SMUT ONESHOT

• SUMMARY:Toji comes back from work and finds you asleep. Drawn by temptation, he decides to indulge in something that he needs to be careful with doing.

• CW:DARK CONTENT. Dub-con. Somnophelia. Fingering. Creampie.

• WC:1.4k

Toji is careful when you're sleeping.

He is every single time.

He presses a knee down onto the bed, his weight dips into the mattress as he crawls over on top of you. He smiles softly, and his eyes dart to the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand.

It's late.

11:26 p.m.

You're in bed, just as he suspected you'd be when he got home, and he's pleased to find you sound asleep. He reaches out and gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and kisses your jaw gently.

"Pretty girl..." He murmurs into your ear before slowly beginning to caress your body. His hand starts at your shoulders and moves down until his fingers rest at the tips of the covers. He grips them and moves them down, slowly—so he's careful not to wake you—exposing your lower-half of your body. He hums lowly, pleased to find you wearing only panties.

His hand slowly moves down your body once again. Rough, calloused hands glide over your smooth skin, making that pleasing contrasting sound that makes Toji sigh, and, slowly, he tests the water by tugging on the hem of your panties slightly.

You shift, and quickly Toji's eyes dart up to your face.

You're still sleeping, but he knows that you might wake soon.

It made no difference to him, as he was pretty sure he'd be able to see your pussy either way, but still, he'd rather not disturb you since you look so peaceful, sleeping away.

Toji makes another attempt at tugging at your panties. His eyes dart back up to your face to double-check, and, once he sees no further indication of waking up from you, he resumes, slowly pulling down your underwear. With a flick, they fall off and he tosses them to the side.

He smirks to himself, his lip scar twitches and his eyes zero in on your lower half of your body. He sighs and pushes your legs apart. He grin widens upon seeing your pussy, and, with it already being wet, it makes him even more pleased.

He sighs and reaches forward, and gently prods at the opening of your pussy. He groans lowly at the feeling, and he feels his cock twitch with need once he feels your thick walls wrap around the tips of his thick fingers.

Already suckin' me in, he thinks to himself with a grin.

"Mmm..."

Toji snaps his head up at the sound of your sudden whimper, and sees your forehead crinkle. He stills his fingers for a moment, watching as your expression turns from confused to relaxed again in just a few mere seconds.

He resumes once more and pushes his fingers deeper, and he groans at how good your walls feel wrapped around his fingers. His mind races with how good you're going to feel around his cock, and how he can hardly wait to get inside you, but for now he needs to remain patient.

He needs to stretch you out with his fingers first before he can make any movement for you to take his cock.

But... holy fuck. His cock is aching. It strains so tightly against his pants that he can hardly withhold it in. He looks down at the prominent bulge showing in his grey sweatpants and he furrows his eyebrows.

This is damn embarrassing, he huffs at himself and frowns before looking back up at you again. He should be ashamed for liking this so much, fingering you while you're asleep, but he honestly can't help it.

You look so sweet and peaceful, and, knowing that he's doing something so taboo has his cock irritabily hard.

It's unfathomable, really, how hard he is, but again, he can't help it.

He sighs, dismissing his thoughts about how ashamed and embarrassed he should be, and continues to finger you. He curls his fingers which elicits a wet squelching sound from you which sparks a flame within him.

It's an eager flame—one that desires more, as fire does. It licks at his core, barely kindling, but as his mind races, the fire grows, burning at his insides to satiate his eager desires.

His eyes flick over your wet pussy, and the sight alone is enough for him to make a quick decision.

He pulls down his sweatpants, and he slides them off his legs. His weight shifts on the bed as he slides them off and tosses them to the side, which causes you to stir.

His eyes widen when he sees you stirring.

It seems like he's not as careful as he used to be.

You rub your eyes when you come to, and you blink slowly, looking up at your boyfriend who hovers over you.

"Toji...?" You groan groggily and Toji hushes you, gently kissing you on the mouth. It's quick and chaste.

"Shh, sweetheart. Go back to sleep," he hushes you in a warm tone and offers you a reassuring smile.

However, you can clearly see your boyfriend half naked on top of you. You shift and sit up on your elbows and you look up at him.

"What are you..."

Toji doesn't give you a chance to ask as he quickly shuts you up by pushing in his cock, slowly, past your warm, aching lips, he lets out a groan once his hips are flushed with yours and you gasp, your eyes widen quickly upon realization.

"Oh..." You moan softly, and your head fills with butterflies, making you realize what's going on.

"Told ya to go back to sleep. Can ya do that f'me?" Toji whispers into your ear as he slowly moves his hips, thrusting in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Y-Yeah..." You murmur, and you feel your eyes get heavy as Toji rocks back and forth at that deliciously slow pace.

"Mmhmm... good... that's my girl," Toji hums into your ear and gently nips below it. "Just go t'sleep f'me."

With a few more thrusts, you're slowly rocked back to sleep, going to sleep like a baby as your body gently rocks back and forth from his slow thrusts.

Toji smirks to himself once he sees you finally snoozing again, and he sighs, now laying flat on top of you with his weight against you like a weighted blanket; his arms at the sides of your head.

His hips continue to roll into you, his cock filling you up with each thrust. He only can groan and curse under his breath from how good you feel. You're so tight and warm, and it leaves him a mess. Despite how much he claims to have control over himself when it comes to your pussy, he truly has none.

You have him trapped, like a lamb to a wolf, you have him under your thumb, as he'd do anything to be inside of you at any given time, which is why he's so drawn to you when you're asleep. He feels as if you're just waiting for him to take you, so, he does.

He makes love to your pussy, moving in and out, relishing in the feeling of how tightly you are wrapped around him, your walls pulsing as he moves, and the soft sounds that your pussy makes—all of it makes him reel, and it makes that fire inside of him roar as each stroke satiates that burning desire.

It burns hotly, and madly, and he's feeding it with each movement he makes.

He chases that burning desire as his thrusts get quicker. Although, he's still careful, not wanting to wake you again. He refrains from making his thrusts so sharp and punctuated, so he settles for short, quick thrusts that make his cock twitch.

His hands grip the pillows behind your head as he groans again, feeling that fire burn hotly inside of him, allowing him to get close.

Oh fuck.

He's so close, and your pussy feels so good—fuck, fuck, fuck.

Fuck.

His rythem gets messed up as he nears the edge, and, with a few more thrusts, he's cumming.

He groans, and he slaps his hips against yours in one final thrust, spilling his seed inside of you.

He sighs, hanging his head into your shoulder as his body falls limp against you.

He lays there, enjoying the sense of euphoria that's overcome him. He blinks slowly, feeling his head become heavy and his eyelids droop, until finally, he falls asleep, still buried inside of you.

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 3

(Rafe Cameron x reader, series, 5.7k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

additional chapter cw: suggestive language/themes, heavy drinking, mature readers only please

⇢ series masterlist

The game was on, and Carter wasn’t one to go down without a fight.

You however, were much less invested in her scheme to set you up with Tom, already feeling tired and confused after 24-hours of this little reunion trip. You laid in bed for quite a while replaying the almost-moment you’d had with Rafe in the kitchen in your head before taking a long, dreamless nap. It was the smell of the barbeque wafting through your bedroom window that woke you up. You threw your hair up in a bun, too groggy to care about putting any more effort into your appearance.

As you reached for the handle, you heard two hushed voices arguing behind your bedroom door. You opened it slowly to reveal Carter and Topper facing each other, both with their arms crossed as they carried on a heated whisper-argument.

“What are you even doing up here Topper?” Carter demanded.

“I don’t know, what are you doing up here Carter? Trying to get a leg up?” Topper snapped back, towering over her in height yet still somehow looking small under her glare.

They were so locked in on each other that neither of them had even noticed your appearance.

“Um, hi,” you waved your hand between their faces to get their attention. “Can I help you?”

They looked at you, startled as their arms fell and stances softened. Carter eyed your outfit up and down, trying to hide her distaste at your choice of leggings and a t-shirt.

“Well, I don’t know what he’s doing up here but I came to see if you needed help getting ready,” Carter replied.

“I am ready,” you said, eyeing her suspiciously.

“You’re, uh,” Topper scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

You squinted at him, you could understand Carter critiquing your outfit, knowing she was trying to set you up with Tom, but what stake did Topper have in your outfit choice?

“We’re literally just going downstairs,” you countered.

“Maybe throw on something a little nicer,” Carter urged gently.

“Okay, fine,” you gave in. “You two are being so weird today.”

Topper gave you a thumbs up as you closed the door in their faces.

A few minutes later you reemerged in a new outfit, a crocheted halter top and some cut-offs. You had let your hair down and ran a brush through it, dabbed on some mascara and lipgloss. It was the maximum amount of effort you were willing to put into a big night out in the backyard.

Despite everyone’s relentless teasing, Topper actually was a pretty good cook. The food was great and everyone thanked you, Rafe, and Tom for going out to get it.

“Tom paid!” you announced. “So everyone make sure to be really nice to him or he won’t bankroll us anymore.”

You smiled at Tom, who grinned back and waved you off in joking modesty. You let your eyes linger as he leaned over the firepit on the other side of the sprawling patio, skillfully stacking the wood before lighting a match and holding it under. He crouched low to blow gently on the kindling, causing the fire to roar to life. You could see a sliver of his toned lower back peeking out from his shirt as he reached for another log, dropping it straight into his newly sparked flame with a bare hand. The whole thing was unbelievably attractive.

The only thing better was the stoney look on Rafe’s face when you caught his eye, realizing he’d noticed the way you were looking at Tom like you wanted to have him for dessert. Good. 

Playing and replaying the scene from the kitchen in your head all afternoon, you came downstairs determined to freeze Rafe out. Sure, he remembered your favorite candy and maybe almost even apologized, but it wasn’t enough to erase the sting you felt when he pulled away from you like you had the plague as soon as anyone else entered the room.

After dinner, you were perched on the railing of the porch, sipping something strong and chatting with Carter and her childhood best friend, Maddie.

Maddie was nice enough, the Kook academy prom queen two years in a row, but she had never shown much interest in you. Until you showed up here looking much more instagram-worthy than you had in high school.

“So, omg,” Maddie started, playing with a strand of your hair like you were the closest of friends. “When are you gonna drop the workout routine? You look gorg.”

Never once had one of Carter’s friends complimented your looks. 

“Thanks,” you grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I play a lot of volleyball and jog a little.”

“Well it’s working!” Kelce hollered from across the porch, already wobbling slightly from his inebriation.

There it was again, your blush, always showing up at the least opportune times. All eyes were on you, such open talk about your body making your skin crawl with self-consciousness. You looked over the railing to the sand a few feet down, wondering how badly the jump would hurt.

As always, knowing you better than anyone, Carter felt like she could read your mind. Protectiveness roared in her chest, she set her hand over yours to silently tell you she understood before turning to the party and announcing, “okay, we’re playing a game! Everyone around the fire pit!”

No one argued with her wishes, they never did. The group gathered around the bonfire, each with a full drink in hand as Carter unnecessarily explained the rules to never have I ever as if this same group hadn’t played it a hundred times in high school. 

You appreciated Carter moving the attention off of you, but clearly she didn’t know this was your least favorite game in the world. The second the name of the game came out of her mouth, your heart dropped to your stomach, hit with memories of sitting off to the side while her friends played, all of your fingers embarrassingly still up, revealing you had done nothing interesting or scandalous in your life.

Sure, you’d definitely added a few notches to your belt since then, but you knew these people and had no doubt you were still way behind. The sad thing is you didn’t even care, but you knew they would and you couldn’t help that nagging desire to prove that you were just as cool as them. You sighed as you settled in your chair next to Carter, frustrated that just as you were starting to feel somewhat normal, you were transported right back to your loneliest days.

Carter went first, “never have I everrr…shoplifted.”

Sabrina took a giggly sip from her solo cup.

“Isn’t your dad’s networth like a billion dollars?” Kelce asked.

“Yes, but he never would’ve bought me those red panties, so I took ‘em,” she winked at him, and he scooted his chair closer to her.

Everyone else still had all ten fingers up, making you think maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

But your relief didn’t last long. One by one they went around the circle, revealing each other’s secrets and leaving you with ten fingers up.

“Never have I ever done a body shot.” Your fingers stayed up.

“Never have I ever kissed someone of the same sex.” Your fingers stayed up.

“Never have I ever hooked up in a public place.” Your fingers stayed up. 

As the group got tipsier, the revelations got dirtier. You were sure some of them were lying and there was some temptation for you to put a finger down as a lie too just to level the playing field, but that was such teenage bullshit. You might not have as a high of a body count as some of them, but you still had your pride. 

The blood rushed from you face when Maddie said, “never have I ever been with two people at once” and Rafe put his last finger down, smirking as he finished off his beer.

A few more rounds passed and everyone else had put at least a couple fingers down while you still hadn’t done a single one of the things listed. You chewed on your lip, wondering how early was too early to excuse yourself to go to bed.

You were about to make a break for it, when a now sloppily drunk Sabrina pointed at you and slurred, “aww bambi’s still got ten!”

Bambi was another one of the many teasing nicknames they’d called you in high school, and it might just be your least favorite. 

“You’re still such a good girl,” Sabrina jibed. 

She must’ve been beyond wasted. She wasn’t necessarily nice, but she wasn’t usually this much of a bitch.

Your breaths got short, the anxiety erupting like fireworks in your chest. You could feel Carter’s mind spinning next to you, trying to come up with some way to defend you, but another voice beat her to it.

“Well,” Rafe said, drawing all eyes off of you and across the firepit towards him. “Never have I ever gotten so crossfaded at a boneyard party that I pissed my pants in someone else’s truck.”

He shot Sabrina a vindictive smile.

“Rafe!” She protested. “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!” 

At her admission, everyone broke out into laughter, aimed at her.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” Rafe chuckled, “you just did.”

“Bruhh,” Kelce hollered. “That’s nasty!”

Sabrina went red, completely humiliated. You tried to be a girl’s girl, but after years of her teasing and making you feel like a loser, you couldn’t help but join in the laughter at her expense. 

As she emptied her cup spitefully, you caught Rafe’s gaze across the fire, the air between you wavy with the flame’s heat. He smiled a crooked, satisfied smile at you, and you mouthed “thank you.” He gave you a reassuring wink and your stomach did cartwheels. 

Carter straightened in her lawn chair next to you, kicking herself for giving Rafe the chance to save you before she could.

“I’ve got one!” she announced, and the crowd hushed to hear their queen. “Never have I ever skinny dipped in the campus fountain and got caught by campus security but successfully flirted my way out of a citation and ended up getting the cop’s number.”

Everyone looked around the circle quizzically, wondering who that incredibly specific anecdote was aimed at.

“No fucking way!” Topper shouted when he saw you put down your pinky finger with a bashful smile.

Topper and Kelce whooped, and the girls all gave you impressed looks.

“Okay baddie!” Maddie gasped. “Was he cute? Did you call him?”

“I mean he wasn’t not cute,” you mused, taking the obligatory sip of your drink. “We hung out a few times.”

“So does that mean you’re into handcuffs now orrr…” Kelce chimed in.

“Oops, I put the wrong fingers down,” you lifted your hand and theatrically put all down except your middle finger, aiming it at Kelce.

The crowd erupted with laughs and amused ohhhh’s. Even Rafe was smiling, and you couldn’t help but wish you knew what he was thinking, noticing his soft eyes on you as you bantered with his friends, all attention on you. This time, you weren’t blushing, you were just enjoying yourself. It felt so nice to have such a naturally fun and easy moment, but it was short lived.

“Never have I ever,” Sabrina interrupted, hiccuping. “Failed an entire semester of college.”

The crowd fell silent once again, no one daring to bring their eyes to Rafe, the clear target of her comeback. He just rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair nonchalantly, like it didn’t bother him at all. But you could see the hint of shame in his eyes, a rare glimpse of vulnerability hidden under his tough facade. You used to spend so much of your time digging for those deeper layers that it was easy for you to pick up on them when they rose to the surface, even if it was just for a second.

Maybe you should let him flounder, leave him hanging like he’d done to you so many times before. But tonight, for the first time ever, he had jumped in to defend you, and maybe one act of kindness wouldn’t kill you.

“Fuck this game. Topper, didn’t you say something earlier about a beer pong tournament?” You prompted him, hoping desperately he’d see what you were trying to do and play along.

Topper looked confused at first, so you smiled tightly and flicked your eyes to Rafe and back as quickly as possible, urging him to understand.

Ever the king of subtlety, Topper’s eyes went wide as he mouthed “ohhhh!” 

Rafe saw the whole thing.

“Beer pong! Yes!” Topper said, excited to finally be in the loop. “Let’s do it!”

“I wanna play!” Sabrina stood quickly from her chair, immediately tripping over her own feet.

“Woah,” Carter caught her and held her up with some effort, Sabrina so far gone she couldn’t even use her legs. “I think you’ve had enough fun for tonight.”

Carter stabilized Sabrina and guided her towards the house. You knew she was pissed at Sabrina for picking on you, but Carter would never leave a drunk girl to stumble around a party by herself. She looked at you apologetically, but you nodded to let her know you were fine.

After they disappeared into the house, Topper and Kelce got to work clearing the long outdoor dining table for beer pong, filling cups and placing them with great attention to detail. You chuckled at the way they were arguing over correct cup spacing and fill levels as you reached down into the cooler for another drink. When you stood, Tom appeared by your side.

“I didn’t realize I was sharing a house with a criminal,” he drawled, mouth quirked with a crooked smile.

“Oh yeah,” you played along, popping the top of your drink. “I’m wanted in four states and Puerto Rico.”

“And Puerto Rico, wow,” he leaned his arm against the porch rail, his body angling towards yours in a way that made your skin prick with goosebumps. “I need to hear that story.”

“I’d tell you,” you lowered your voice and lifted your mouth towards his ear to whisper. “But then I’d have to kill you.”

“You’re in that deep, huh?” He placed his other hand on the railing on the other side of you, effectively caging you in, though he held himself back far enough to give you some space. You didn’t want space, though, the enticing scent of whiskey and the smoke from the fire drawing you to him.

“Mhm,” you leaned in so your chests were almost touching, a smile tugging his full lips when he noticed the way you intentionally closed the space between you. “If you thought the campus fountain story was bad…”

“I didn’t think it was bad,” he shook his head.

“No?” You grinned, eager to see where he was going with this.

“Not bad, kind of hot, but not bad,” he confessed.

“Only kind of?” You furrowed your brow in mock offense.

He broke into a smile and blushed, flustered as he said, “I mean, uh…”

You giggled. His bashful, dimpled smile was so painfully cute you were suddenly seeing the value to Carter’s matchmaking plan.

The alcohol in your system mixed with the warmth radiating off of him made your body go hot, tingles shooting up your spine as his eyes fell to your lips. He was so damn pretty. Warm brown eyes and messy hair you wanted to tangle your fingers in.

Rafe grabbed the fire poker and busied himself by tending to the flames, which didn’t really need it, considering Tom had built such a sturdy fire. The sound of your sweet giggles floating through the air as you flirted with Tom made him want to walk straight off the porch and into the ocean. He’d surely put his lifelong friendship with Sabrina on the line, not to mention his own pride, to keep you from running away in embarrassment, and now Tom was reaping the rewards of his chivalry. 

He remembered, though. Maybe you didn’t think he did, but he remembered. The nights you sat in the corner, lonely, pining, and the go-to butt of his friends’ stupid jokes. And he’d just sat by and let it happen, so many times. It’s no wonder you were leaned up against someone else, sharing stories about a whole chapter of your life he’d missed. He only had himself to blame.

Once the table was set up, Topper turned and frowned at the way the group had split, you and Tom cozy in the corner while Rafe stood by the fire alone, shoulders tense. He needed to step up his Cupid game, like, now.

He clapped his hands loudly, voice booming as he announced to the party that it was time to play. The startling sound forced Tom away from you just as you were about to ask him if he wanted to walk down to the water. Topper pointed right at you and pronounced you would be on his team. You were going to protest before you remembered beer pong was your idea in the first place, your ruse to protect Rafe. You couldn’t back out now.

Beer pong was another thing you’d added to your skill set in college. In high school, you were never asked to join when parties inevitably broke into a tournament. Instead you’d sit quietly and watch with hearts in your eyes as Rafe played with the competitiveness of an Olympian in a gold medal race.

He was known for his terrible sportsmanship, everyone expected a full tantrum if he didn’t win. The same went for school sports, you’d spent every night after a rare loss up on the phone with him listening intently while he ranted about all the ways the refs were wrong or the umps were blind. At the time, you took it as an honor that you were the one he wanted to find solace in. Now, grown and mature, you saw it for what it really was; no one else wanted to listen to him bitch and moan, so you were just his only option.

“Let’s go, Little Carter!” Topper raised his hand for a high five as you approached the table.

“If you call me that, I’m not playing,” you left him hanging.

“My bad, my bad,” he conceded.

You gave in and high fived him, stepping up to the table with your game face on. Kelce and Maddie stood across from you. They were both terrible shots, and you sunk every ball, but Topper was keeping them in the game with his many misses. 

Topper was great at beer pong in high school and you were sure he’d had plenty of practice at U of F, so there was no reason he should be playing so horribly.

“Dude, what the hell is up with you?” You scolded him after another throw that was way off.

“I dunno,” Topper said with an exaggerated drunken slur in his voice. “I think I’m just too wasted to play. You might need another partner.”

Before you could mock him for his dramatics, he had called over to Rafe, who was sitting back in a lounge chair looking at his phone, anything to keep his eyes off of you.

“What?” He grumbled, eyes lifting from his screen and avoiding yours.

“Need you to sub in for me,” Topper fake hiccupped and you rolled your eyes.

You were sure Rafe would see you were his proposed partner and pass on the opportunity, but then he and Topper had some kind of silent conversation with their eyes that you couldn’t interpret, and Rafe stood from his chair.

“You don’t have to,” you offered as he stepped up and took the ball from Topper.

You hated that your instinct was to apologize for inconveniencing him. He shrugged and lined up his first shot.

“Someone’s gotta show ‘em how it’s done,” he said with an easy grin that made your heart beat a little faster. 

If only your younger self could see how your night was progressing. Impressing everyone during never have I ever. Flirting with a gorgeous boy from another school. And now, Rafe smiling at you and acknowledging your presence in front of all these people, willingly agreeing to be your teammate. She’d have died and gone to heaven.

He had every right to be cocky; he was really good. And to his great surprise, so were you. You and Rafe made quick work of Kelce and Maddie, then Kelce and Jack, then Kelce and three more partners that tried to step up to the plate, Kelce’s aim worsening as he teetered on the edge of a blackout.

“When did you get so good at this?” Rafe asked you after a partcualrly skillful shot.

“I was always good at it,” you scoffed. “You just never let me play.”

After that comment, Rafe was suddenly an extra encouraging teammate. Before each shot he’d pull you back, leaning down to whisper in your ear conspiratorially about which cup you should call, like an NFL coach rallying his quarterback.

“I can’t hit the far corner, my aim isn’t that good,” you said when he proposed the risky shot. 

Self-doubt filled your face as you bit your lip, Rafe recognizing the nervous tick instantly.

“Nah you got it!” he grabbed you by the shoulder and shook you playfully. “You just gotta believe in yourself.” 

Despite yourself, you broke into a smile, making a feeble attempt to brush him away, though he could tell you didn’t mean it.

“Let’s go slugger,” Rafe placed the ball in your hand and guided you into position by your shoulders. He stood behind you and leaned in to bring his mouth close to your ear. “You got this.”

You loved it. You hated it. Your head swirled with conflicting thoughts, but when you sunk the ball with a flick of your wrist, they all faded.

“Let’s fucking gooo!” Rafe yelled.

He lifted his hand for a double high five and you stood on your tiptoes to reach. Your arms came down, but your hands were still in his.

“Told ‘ya,” he said tenderly, smiling down at you as his large hands enveloped yours. “You just gotta believe in yourself.”

Despite the alarms blaring in your head, telling you to run, you let it all linger. The deep sound of his voice in the air, his eyes on your lips, his rough hands folded in yours.

“Okay!” Carter chose that minute to emerge from the house after Sabrina finally fell asleep. “That’s enough wins for y’all, time for some real competition.”

The sound of her voice snapped you out of the moment, and you pulled your hands away from Rafe quickly, nervous about all the eyes on you for the first time since you’d started playing.

“I need a partner,” Carter said, surveying the group on the patio. “How about…”

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where she was going with this show and wishing she’d just fast forward to the end.

“Tom?” She raised her eyebrows in his direction, as if it was a crazy idea she had just come up with. “Do you play?”

“I may have taken part in a tourney or two,” Tom said humbly.

“Bullshit,” Kelce exclaimed, slumped in a chair as his head spun. “This guy was the Alpha Tau champion all four years. He’s got a plaque and everything.”

“Damn, I didn’t know we had Alpha Tau royalty in our midst!” Carter bantered.

“Jesus, enough with the fanfare, are you playing or not, dude?” Rafe snapped.

Carter eyed you, her lips twisted in a satisfied smirk. No one was surprised at Rafe’ gruffness, more than used to his competitive mean streak. It was not one of his more attractive qualities. The pull you’d just felt to him faltered a little at the reminder of this particular weakness. You were sure that’s exactly what Carter was hoping for.

“Alright I’m in,” Tom said, stepping up to the table and rolling up the sleeves of his sweater. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ‘ya.” He winked at you.

“Yeah, yeah, just call your shot, champ,” Rafe said.

The four of you reset the cups, not much work needing to be done on you and Rafe’s side of the table since almost no one had scored on you. As Tom lined up his first shot, he stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, adjusting and readjusting his stance to get comfortable.

Rafe crossed his arms over his chest mumbling something along the lines of “this fuckin’ guy” and you couldn’t help but smile, admittedly also kind of getting the ick from how seriously Tom was taking this. 

Then he sunk every ball. After a few particularly good rounds, he made his third shot in a row, and Carter called “fire.” She handed him balls one after another like he was taking free throws, wiggling her eyebrows at you to make sure you were paying attention to his triumph.

You drank each cup obediently, ever the rule follower. After your fourth, you were getting so sick of the stale beer, you and Rafe’s cups had been sitting untouched all night and the cheap hops had soured significantly. When Tom sunk another one you grabbed the cup hesitantly, queasy, nearly gagging.

“It’s okay, I got it,” Rafe volunteered, grabbing the cup from you.

“Y’all don’t have to drink those if they’re really that bad,” Tom offered, pausing his next shot when he noticed how disgusted you looked.

“I got it, man,” Rafe waved him off, holding his nose and shooting back the beer as quickly as possible. He dropped the empty cup with a grimace.

“We can just call it a game,” Tom suggested, clearly feeling bad.

“Do you want to forfeit?” You asked Rafe, dropping your voice so Carter and Tom couldn’t hear.

“What and just wave the white flag?” Rafe replied, eyebrows raised. “Do you?

Your lips spread in a slow smile, “not a fucking chance.”

“Atta girl,” he nodded, returning his gaze to Tom. “We’re no quitters, hit us again big guy.”

And he did, over and over, until there was only one cup left on your side of the table. As he prepped for his final shot, Rafe turned to you, a playful, tipsy smile on his face.

“We had a good run,” He said, reaching out shake your hand. You took it with a smile.

When Tom and Carter won, high fiving each other in a loud celebration, all eyes fell to Rafe, waiting to see how he’d react to losing. You tensed, hoping his chipper attitude when you were winning would carry over into a graceful loss. But then he rounded the table, striding towards Tom, and you cringed in anticipation of a classic Rafe Cameron Temper Tantrum.

“Oh boy,” Carter mumbled under her breath. “Here we go.”

But there was no blow up, just Rafe extending his hand to Tom, who took it with a friendly shake.

“Good game, man,” Rafe said. 

“Yeah, you too, dude,” Tom smiled, not realizing this show of sportsmanship was a historical first.

Rafe tilted his head in a friendly nod towards your sister, “Carter.”

“Rafael,” she returned his sarcastic tone, purposefully using his least favorite nickname.

With that, Rafe walked away from the table, one last glance towards you as he returned to his seat by the fire. You watched him go, feeling sad not that you had lost, but that your fun night with Rafe had seemingly come to an end.

It was dizzying, your ever-changing emotional state, and you suspected it had very little to do with the beer. Thinking over all the events of the day gave you whiplash. One second you were about ready to ask Tom if he wanted to come back to your room, the next it felt like you and Rafe were finally sharing the moment you’d dreamt of for years. All the while, you weren’t sure you actually wanted either of them, or if you even wanted to be here at all.

“Wanna play again?” Carter asked, noticing the distracted look on your face.

“I’m good,” you smiled at her appreciatively, deciding you’d had enough excitement for one day. “I think I’m probably just going to bed now.”

“Aww, but it’s so early grandma,” Topper called over to you from the firepit.

You walked over to his chair and peched on the armrest.

 “Ah yes, another one of my favorite nicknames,” you joked. “No one’s called me that in four years.”

“Another inside joke?” Tom inquired, joining the circle, he and Carter each grabbing a chair.

“In high school, she was always the first to leave parties. She’d rather be at home in bed with a book by 9pm,” Topper explained to him.

You rose from his chair, eager to ditch this little trip down memory lane before it got too embarrassing. You almost made a clean escape, but then a very drunk Kelce decided to chime in.

“Unless Rafe asked her to stay,” he laughed. “Then she’d be there allll night.”

Embarrassed doesn’t even begin to cover it. You’ve been embarrassed a thousand times in your life, but this was something different. You looked down at your feet, not sure what you were supposed to do. No quick, face saving remark was coming to mind.

Carter smacked Kelce on the arm, while Topper shook his head with a disapproving, “dude…” 

Your eyes drifted to Rafe, who was looking down at his hands uncomfortably. Whatever protective instinct that had inspired him to stand up for you earlier was clearly gone as he left you to drown in the painfully awkward silence.

“Oh, were you two…?” Tom asked, pointing between you and Rafe quizzically.

“Nope,” you told him with a stiff smile.

He looked like he was about to ask more, but caught on at the last second, reading in between the lines. There it was, the last person here who didn’t know about your pathetic past was now caught up to speed. Yeah, you’d definitely had enough.

“Kelce, you’re such an asshole,” Carter began reprimanding him.

“Just stop,” you urged her. “It’s fine, I’m just going to bed.”

“Wait!” She called after you, but you were already walking toward the house, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. She gave Kelce one last slap and rushed after you.

Kelce, barely conscious, still hadn’t caught up with his own party foul.

“Where’s she going?” He asked Topper.

Rafe stood from his chair suddenly. 

“Will you get him out of here please?” He spat at Topper, sidestepping the fire as he stormed off toward the house.

Rafe followed your path into the kitchen, not sure what he was going to say when he caught up to you, but suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to make it right. He should’ve said something as soon as Kelce put his foot in his mouth. He’d deal with that dumbass later.

He slid the kitchen door open, headed towards the stairs that lead to the second floor, but he stopped short when he heard your voice. He stayed back, out of sight but close enough to hear your conversation with Carter on the stairs.

“Carter, it’s fine,” you sighed.

“No it’s fucking not, he made you cry,” Carter practically growled.

Rafe’s heart dropped. You were crying? He was gonna kick Kelce’s ass as soon as he was sober enough to feel pain.

“I’m just tired,” you sniffled. “Please, just drop it for now. I just wanna go to sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” Carter said, her voice starting to crack. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to stay.”

“It’s not your fault,” you assured her. “I knew he was gonna be here.”

Rafe frowned. Was the ‘he’ you were referring to still Kelce, or was it him? Was his presence really so distressing to you that you were in tears?

Carter reluctantly bid you goodnight, and Rafe slipped into the pantry so she wouldn’t see him when she descended the stairs back into the kitchen, storming towards the backyard, surely on her way to give Kelce hell.

He stood in the walk-in pantry for a minute, collecting his thoughts. 

Maybe he should be the one to leave. If his presence really was such torment to you, it would be the right thing to do. But you didn’t seem tormented earlier when you were playing beer pong with him, cheering each other on and laughing like friends. Or before, at the fire, when you’d come to each other’s defense. Even his two best friends hadn’t seen that Sabrina’s words actually hurt him, but you did. You always knew him better than anyone.

While he stood in the pantry, illuminated only by the single light bulb above his head, his eyes grazed over the shelf. Between a stack of paper plates and some hamburger buns, sat the candy he had picked out for you at the store. He smiled at the memory of your many car rides as teenagers, fueled by the snacks you had brought when you picked him up. Maybe you regretted those times now, but something about the fact that this was still your favorite candy made him feel better.

His stomach twisted with worry that after what Kelce had said, you would decide to leave. The only worse thought was that he might let you go without finding the courage to say the words he’d been holding onto since he saw you on the beach. Maybe you’d slam the door in his face, but he couldn’t let you leave without trying.

Rafe grabbed your candy off the shelf and climbed the stairs two at a time, eager to knock on your bedroom door before he lost his nerve.

(Chapter 4)

a/n: I LOVED hearing all your Team Tom vs. Team Rafe opinions!! The competition is heating up!!!! (not my outline for this chapter starting with “note: google rules to beer pong” lol)

Ch 4 predictions? 👀

please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕